Chasing a Dream by Beth Cornelison

I want another report tonight. You get anything promisin’ on her, I want to hear. Got it?”
    “Got it.”
    Dominic turned to leave, and Morelli sent Henry a silent signal.
    “Not so fast, Dom. Sinclair wanted you to know how disappointed he was that you let his wife get away.”
    Dominic stopped and cast a wary glance over his shoulder. Henry grabbed him in a wrestler’s hold, pinning the stocky man’s arms to his sides. Panic filled Dominic’s eyes, and Morelli snarled in disgust.
    Whipping a switchblade from under his jacket, Morelli seized Dominic’s right hand.
    “Noooo!”
    Dominic’s pinkie came off with a quick, clean swipe of the switchblade, and the man crumpled to the floor, howling in pain. “Don’t fail Randall Sinclair or me again, Dom. He’s not likely to give you a third chance.”
     
    ***
    Tess stood in the middle of the floor, rubbing the goose bumps on her arms and moving her gaze around the dark motel room. The dark green and blue patterned bedspreads had been chosen to hide dirt, she supposed, and not to dispel the gloomy ambience.
    Justin’s backpack bumped her fanny when he scooted past her, attesting to the narrow confines. She stepped out of his way, rubbing her bottom.
    As he dumped his possessions in the corner by one of the sagging beds, he grinned at her. “Sorry.”
    With a click, he snapped on the wall light, and a golden glow spilled from behind the scalloped, plastic lampshade. The soft light brightened the room some, but Tess remained uneasy.
    Eyeing Justin as he settled in, she acknowledged that her discomfort came from her circumstances and not her environment. The small motel room seemed even smaller because of the man hanging his cowboy hat on the top end of his guitar case.
    She also acknowledged that her discomfort could not be called fear. Although fear had been a living thing inside her for most of the day, she trusted Justin. Her uncertainty sprang from the way he’d thrust himself into her life, appointed himself her protector. Even after his first-hand taste of the danger she faced, he chose to stay with her, flatly refused to leave when she begged him to get himself out of harm’s way. But why? He was hiding something from her, and that missing piece of the puzzle gnawed at her.
    She intended to draw the truth from him. Somehow.
    Justin turned down the window unit air conditioner, which blew musty-smelling, damp air. The elimination of the cool draft eased the chill that prickled her arms, burrowed to her bones, and even made her nose run. She longed for a chance to change into warm, dry clothes after spending the afternoon wet and shivering.
    Apparently, her roommate had similar ideas, because he stripped his damp T-shirt over his head and began rummaging in his backpack. “Draw straws for first dibs on the shower?”
    Tess stared at his wide, taut chest and tan nipples with a nervous fluttering in her stomach. Why had she agreed to share a room with him? Surely there’d been a suitable compromise if she’d taken the time to think it through.
    “Tess?”
    Then again, he hadn’t given her much choice.
    His high-handedness nettled her, but she kept silent. Experience had taught her that the less she argued or provoked, the better. When he bent to dig in his pack again, she followed the bumpy path of his spine down his muscled back to the point it disappeared into his jeans.
    “I don’t mind waiting, if you want to go first,” he said. “Just save me a little hot water. Okay?”
    Sharing close quarters would be awkward at best. She knew next to nothing about this man. Except that he had a charm, a reassuring manner, a presence about him that managed to lull her despite the circumstances. His sense of fairness led him to pay for half of a motel room she’d guess he couldn’t afford. He had a stubborn streak that made reasoning with him an exercise in futility.
    And he was as handsome as the devil.
    The unbidden thought popped into her mind, rattling her