Page 7 of Mistletoe Omega
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. If you knew me, you’d know that.”
“Once a cop, always a cop?” He smirked.
“I guess so.”
He glanced toward his stuff. “What about my clothes?”
“We can take it with us.”
He exhaled, giving a dirty look toward the motel office. “Fine. I guess I have no choice.”
“Then let’s go. I can barely feel my toes.” I marched over and grabbed one of the boxes. Then I tossed it into the back of the truck and went back and got the bag of clothes.
He jerked himself out of his stupor and moved to get the last box, giving me a wary look. He set it in the back of my vehicle, and then he climbed in the cab. He shivered and hugged his body, looking a little lost. I got behind the wheel and turned the heater on full blast. “It’s going to be okay.” My voice was firm. I knew he didn’t really know me, but I felt like he needed someone to say that to him.
“I can’t believe Tim didn’t pay the bill. He fucking lied to my face.”
“Well, when he gets back, give him hell.” I pulled onto the main road and headed in the direction of my home. The snow was falling even faster now, and I just wanted to make it to my place before it got too bad.
“He’s not coming back.” His voice was emotionless.
I glanced at him, studying his handsome features in the orange glow of the dashboard. “He’s not?”
“Nope.”
“So he’s not visiting his mother?” I wasn’t exactly sure why the idea of Tim never coming back pleased me. Maybe it was just that he’d seemed like a jerk and I felt like Sam deserved better.
“Nope.” He leaned his head back and groaned. “I can’t fucking believe my life.”
After ten minutes or so, I turned into my driveway, and we bumped down the dirt road, eventually pulling up in front of my home. I got out and grabbed a box from the back, and he slowly followed. He took the last box and slung the bag over his shoulder.
“Watch these steps. They tend to get icy in the cold weather,” I warned him.
“Okay.” He followed me up the porch stairs.
I wiggled the key in the lock and we entered my house. I’d left a light on, and I headed straight for the guest room. Once there, I flicked on the light with my elbow, and dropped the box next to the dresser, moving aside so he could do the same. He put his box and bag down with a grunt, and then he stood with his hands on his hips. “This is nicer than the Wagon Train Motel any day.”
That was the first positive comment I’d gotten out of him since the motel. “Thanks. I just changed the sheets a few days ago, so you should be set. I’m afraid we have to share a bathroom. My other one is being remodeled. Well, I’m doing the work myself and it’s slow going.”
“I don’t mind sharing. I’m just happy to have any bathroom.”
“I’ll leave some clean towels on the counter in there. Feel free to shower and use anything you need.”
He sighed. “You’ve been very kind. I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I’m sure if I needed your help you’d lend a hand.”
“I’d like to think I would.” He sat on the edge of the mattress with his shoulders slumped, looking demoralized.
The sight of him tugged at my heart. “Listen, I’m sure you’ll bite my head off for even offering, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you need. I’m not saying that out of pity either. I wouldn’t mind the company, and you need a place to stay until you can make a plan.”
He lifted his head. “I don’t know that I’d feel right about taking advantage of you like that.”
I shrugged. “Buy some groceries now and then and I’d consider us even.”
He laughed gruffly. “Doesn’t seem even to me.”
