Page 23 of Heartbeats & Highways

“All right.”

I licked my lips, my gaze dropping to his mouth.

“Kiss me goodbye,” he rasped.

A half smile pulled at my lips, and I angled my head back.

His mouth covered mine. Warm, sensual, unhurried.

Long dormant desire fluttered through my belly.

Savage pulled back too soon. Far too soon.

“Open your eyes, Evie,” he commanded.

I opened my eyes.

His smile was slow. “Lock up after I’m gone.”

My eyes flew open, and I quickly clamped my mouth shut to silence the scream threatening to burst from me. As my heart thudded in my chest, I waited for my terror to mellow. I wondered what had startled me awake. Then I heard them . . .

Soft footsteps in the hallway.

I waited.

There was the sound of a closing door and then there was nothing. I realized I was safe, and there was no danger as my heartbeat began to return to normal.

I swung my legs off the couch, my brain still full of cobwebs from my nap. I looked at the clock on the microwave. After Savage had left, I’d immediately curled up on the couch and conked out. I’d slept a few hours, and it was now the middle of the afternoon.

Swallowing past the dryness in my throat, I got up and padded my way to the kitchen. I opened the stainless-steel door of the refrigerator and peered inside. The shelves were full of necessities. I opened the drawers, delighting at their fullness, too.

The bottle of orange juice called my name, and I felt my mouth pool with saliva.

I searched for a glass and poured juice nearly to the brim.

It was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted. As I stood in the kitchen drinking orange juice to satiate my thirst, my stomach rumbled.

There was a carton of eggs in the fridge.

As I scrambled a few into a mixing bowl, I heard the distant opening of a door, followed by hesitant footsteps. They seemed to be pacing.

Frowning, my curiosity overrode my trepidation. I quietly trekked to the front door and looked through the peephole. A young woman who looked to be about my age with jet black hair stood in front of my door, holding a plate covered in tinfoil. She raised her fist to knock but decided against it. She set the plate down onto the mat outside my door and quickly scurried into the apartment across the hall from me.

Seems I’m not the only one who wants to keep to themselves.

I waited a moment to see if she came back out, but when she didn’t, I opened my door. I crouched down to pick up the plate and peered underneath the tinfoil and smiled.

The woman had made me chocolate-chip cookies.

I wanted to call out my thanks, but something stopped me. I took the cookies and retreated.

I wasn’t ready to introduce myself either.

Chapter 7

My interviewat Three Kings was in two hours, and for the life of me I couldn’t decide what to wear. I didn’t have a lot of clothes; just some underwear, undershirts, a nightgown, a pair of jeans, and three oversized, faded flannel shirts.

My clothes didn’t even take up one drawer of the dresser.

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