eyes immediately fell on his sidekick. “This is the motel manager. He saw me carry you in last night and was afraid I’d brought you here against your will.”
“What?” She looked from Liam to the manager. “Oh, well…thank you for your concern,” she said, “but I’m not with him against my will. In fact, I can’t think of any other place I’d rather be right now.” Olivia’s eyes locked on Liam’s. Unspoken words passed between them that he heard loud and clear.
“All right then,” the old man grumbled as he turned to walk away. “Just makin’ sure everything’s on the up and up.”
Liam stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Sorry about that. I just figured it’d be easier to appease him than deal with the police.”
“Oh, I understand. I think it’s kinda sweet the old guy cares.”
“Yeah, he cares enough to pack a .38 Special,” he grumbled. “If he isn’t more careful about winging that thing around, the old fool’s gonna get himself killed. Are you ready for some breakfast? There’s a diner a few miles from here on the way to the freeway.”
“Sure, I’m starved.”
He turned to leave. His hand was on the door when she called his name.
Stopping, he glanced back at her and saw her bottom lip caught nervously between her teeth. He knew she wanted to say something by the flicker of her apprehension fluttering in his chest.
“I meant what I said.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” he asked.
Her small hand grabbed ahold of his wrist, sending a jolt of heat racing up his arm. His gaze locked on hers, measuring her reaction. Did she feel it, too?
“About not wanting to be any other place but here—with you.”
Aw hell... If he didn’t walk away right now, there was a pretty good chance he’d do something they’d both regret. “We’d better go,” he replied more gruffly than intended. Pulling out of her grasp, he grabbed her bags and walked away.
***
As Mitch rolled onto his back, he let out a miserable groan. His head throbbed, and the room spun as waves of nausea hit him like a surging tide. Leaning over the edge of his bed, he grabbed the waste basket and emptied his stomach. “Oh God…” he groaned, flopping back onto his pillow once the dry heaves passed.
The soft tapping on his bedroom door resonated like a battering ram in his brain. He groaned again, pressing his hands against his temples to keep his head from exploding. “Go away…”
“Mitch?” Ashley’s soft voice boomed in his liquor-sodden mind. “Are you okay?” She opened the door a crack and poked her head inside.
“I’m anything but okay. What are you doing here?” He lifted his head and squinted at the alarm clock. “It’s like…9 a.m.”
“I know what time it is.” She marched into his bedroom and yanked the blinds open, bathing him in torturous rays of sunshine. She hiked the window up, complaining, “Geeze, Mitch, it reeks like rotten whiskey in here.”
“I know,” he moaned, lying flat on his back, arms stretched out beside him. “Hence the puke bucket,” he said, pointing toward the trash can beside his bed.
“Come on, Mitch. Olivia would be so pissed off if she saw you right now. Does she know you drink like this?”
Ignoring her question, he squinted up at her and grumbled, “Have you been here all night?”
Ashley nodded. “Nate left a couple hours ago. He had to get to work. I’d already taken the day off, ‘cause I figured I’d be the one puking my guts out this morning.”
When Ashley walked past his bed, he caught her wrist. “Ash?”
She visibly tensed, her beautiful face pinched into a scowl. Softening his grip, he gently pulled her toward him. She took a reluctant step back and plopped down beside him on the edge of the bed.
“I’m really sorry about last night. I was profoundly drunk, but not so drunk that I don’t remember being a total ass to you. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m really, truly sorry. You know I’d never
“What?” She looked from Liam to the manager. “Oh, well…thank you for your concern,” she said, “but I’m not with him against my will. In fact, I can’t think of any other place I’d rather be right now.” Olivia’s eyes locked on Liam’s. Unspoken words passed between them that he heard loud and clear.
“All right then,” the old man grumbled as he turned to walk away. “Just makin’ sure everything’s on the up and up.”
Liam stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Sorry about that. I just figured it’d be easier to appease him than deal with the police.”
“Oh, I understand. I think it’s kinda sweet the old guy cares.”
“Yeah, he cares enough to pack a .38 Special,” he grumbled. “If he isn’t more careful about winging that thing around, the old fool’s gonna get himself killed. Are you ready for some breakfast? There’s a diner a few miles from here on the way to the freeway.”
“Sure, I’m starved.”
He turned to leave. His hand was on the door when she called his name.
Stopping, he glanced back at her and saw her bottom lip caught nervously between her teeth. He knew she wanted to say something by the flicker of her apprehension fluttering in his chest.
“I meant what I said.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” he asked.
Her small hand grabbed ahold of his wrist, sending a jolt of heat racing up his arm. His gaze locked on hers, measuring her reaction. Did she feel it, too?
“About not wanting to be any other place but here—with you.”
Aw hell... If he didn’t walk away right now, there was a pretty good chance he’d do something they’d both regret. “We’d better go,” he replied more gruffly than intended. Pulling out of her grasp, he grabbed her bags and walked away.
***
As Mitch rolled onto his back, he let out a miserable groan. His head throbbed, and the room spun as waves of nausea hit him like a surging tide. Leaning over the edge of his bed, he grabbed the waste basket and emptied his stomach. “Oh God…” he groaned, flopping back onto his pillow once the dry heaves passed.
The soft tapping on his bedroom door resonated like a battering ram in his brain. He groaned again, pressing his hands against his temples to keep his head from exploding. “Go away…”
“Mitch?” Ashley’s soft voice boomed in his liquor-sodden mind. “Are you okay?” She opened the door a crack and poked her head inside.
“I’m anything but okay. What are you doing here?” He lifted his head and squinted at the alarm clock. “It’s like…9 a.m.”
“I know what time it is.” She marched into his bedroom and yanked the blinds open, bathing him in torturous rays of sunshine. She hiked the window up, complaining, “Geeze, Mitch, it reeks like rotten whiskey in here.”
“I know,” he moaned, lying flat on his back, arms stretched out beside him. “Hence the puke bucket,” he said, pointing toward the trash can beside his bed.
“Come on, Mitch. Olivia would be so pissed off if she saw you right now. Does she know you drink like this?”
Ignoring her question, he squinted up at her and grumbled, “Have you been here all night?”
Ashley nodded. “Nate left a couple hours ago. He had to get to work. I’d already taken the day off, ‘cause I figured I’d be the one puking my guts out this morning.”
When Ashley walked past his bed, he caught her wrist. “Ash?”
She visibly tensed, her beautiful face pinched into a scowl. Softening his grip, he gently pulled her toward him. She took a reluctant step back and plopped down beside him on the edge of the bed.
“I’m really sorry about last night. I was profoundly drunk, but not so drunk that I don’t remember being a total ass to you. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m really, truly sorry. You know I’d never
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