Page 29 of Heart & Hope

I have to concentrate on my job.

My reason for being here.

Not Reed.

Or the way my entire body responds to him simply being in the same room as me.

But when I finish unpacking and head to the bathroom to shower the four days’ worth of gas station grime from my skin and travel weariness from my bones, all I can think of as I stand bare under the falling, steaming water is Reed fucking Rawlins.

Rules, Ruby, remember your rules.

For the love of god.

Rules.

Wi-Fi at the inn is patchy at best. I hold my phone up to the air, hoping that will solve my internet problems. It doesn’t. Outside in the café area of the inn’s restaurant, I tap out another email, double-check the vendors for tomorrow night, and recalculate my orders, to make certain I haven’t under-catered.

People mill about, cutlery clinks, and the smell of coffee, even this late in the afternoon, is a comfort. When a figure drops into the chair opposite me at the table, I peer up from my numbers and overflowing inbox to green eyes.

“Do you ever quit workin’?” Reed drawls.

“Some of us need to be on top of things, Rawlins.” I drop my eyes back to the screen and hit reply to a query from a guest. And I tap out a message, fingers flying over the keyboard.

“Do you ever take a break, Rubes?”

I snap my focus up. Reed’s face is scrunched under a frown and his arms are crossed over his chest. I sit back in the woven café chair and sigh. “I have to make sure everything’s as planned. It’s my job.”

“Yeah, but you just drove four days to make it back here, and you haven’t seen your husband for ages. Can’t leave a man hanging like that, baby.”

The waitress who also works the front desk at night walks by with a tray full of dirty cups and plates. She smiles at me and then glances at Reed before wandering inside.

Nice one, Rawlins.

“I guess I could have the rest of the day off. I mean, everything appears to be in order. At this point, I’m triple-checking.”

“Good, now let’s ditch this joint.”

He pushes up from the chair and helps me pack up my stuff. As a good husband would. When he shoulders my tote and holds out his hand, I stare at it. We haven’t talked about PDA and what we will and won’t do for this facade.

“It’s okay, we’re just going for a walk.”

I slide my hand into his. It’s warm and snug, like it belongs there. And when he rubs a thumb over the back of my hand and tugs me closer, I force my gaze on anything else but his face. This closeness, the way he is with me, it’s so foreign.

Like he actually enjoys spending time with me, not hanging out purely for whatever he can glean from me. Money. Sex.

Like the guys before him.

“You should ditch those shoes, walkin’ around Great Falls in those is gonna have you in a hospital bunk with a broken ankle. So impractical, Rubes.”

“I like them.”

“I never said I didn’t like them on you. But where we’re goin’, they won’t be sufficient.”

“Okay, let’s go up and change. You always surprise me, Reedsy.”

“That’smyjob, beautiful.”

Huh.

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