Page 6 of Stone Deep
My heart was racing. It could have been because I’d chugged the heavily caffeinated drinks or because a complete stranger, albeit an extremely hot and ridiculously confident stranger, was racing my car along the winding coastal highway. Or it could have been that I was still pumped up about what I’d done. It hadn’t gotten me any closer to Damon, but it had felt good to scare the crap out of his creepy brother, Kyle, for a few seconds.
Kyle and his thickheaded lackeys were still tailing us. I looked at the guy behind the steering wheel of the car. Oddly enough, he seemed to be enjoying himself. “Sorry I got you involved in this. I’m Britton, by the way.”
“Slade.” His very green eyes kept shifting from the rearview to the side view. “And, technically, I got myself involved.” He put his hand on the shifter. “We’re about to hit the one straight stretch of highway. If the other side is clear, I’m going for it.”
“Going for what?” I asked just as his foot pressed down on the clutch. My body was tossed back against the seat as the car shot forward. My fingers grabbed the edge of myseat as he swerved into the opposite lane and passed a truck and two cars before slicing back into the lane. The motorcycles were left behind.
“Ha!” He smacked the steering wheel. “I really need to get one of these. Where did you get this one?”
I turned and glanced out the window. The sea looked rough and impatient as white, foamy crests rolled in toward the rocks. “It’s my sister’s car.”
“She’s got good taste in cars.”
“She’s dead.”
He grew quiet. “Sorry.”
“That’s all right. You didn’t know. There’s the motel across the highway.” I looked back over the seat. “I don’t see them anymore. Guess it’s good I handed my keys over toBolt, the race car driver.”
His smile added two thin lines next to his mouth. “See?Bolt, it works, right?”
“My god, is there anyone more cocky on this whole planet?”
“Actually, yes. I have two brothers.”
I pointed to the parking lot entrance. The ‘no vacancy’ light was flashing, but there were only three other cars parked in front of the shabby, pale pink motel.
“Let’s see if there’s any place to park behind the building.” He drove the car to the end and maneuvered between the trash bin and the last room. A small open space covered by weeds and trash that had blown from the dumpster was just big enough for my car. He parked.
I looked around. We were hidden from the road. “Verysmart. Hopefully, the manager won’t have it towed. I looked over at him. He filled up the front of the small car with his broad shoulders and big arms. He had a lot of tattoos and looked like a guy who’d done plenty of sketchy things in his short life. There was no way to deny that he was incredible to look at. “I’m guessing from the way you handled all three guys at the bar, and the way you managed to out maneuver them on the road, that you’ve done something like this before.”
“What? You mean carry a hotheaded, gun-wielding girl from a crowded bar? Every other night.” He turned off the engine and handed me the keys. “Sweet ride. I’ll walk you to your door and make sure you get inside.”
“Do you live nearby? How are you getting home?”
“I live about six miles south. I’ll figure a way home.”
We stepped out of the car. A lacy fog was beginning to drift onshore. Even though Slade looked like the kind of guy who could handle just about any hazard standing in his way, a walk along the highway in fog made anyone, even a tall, hunky man, completely mortal.
“I feel bad leaving you stranded.” Everything in my life had been peeling off in crazy ass directions, and tonight, I’d pulled something completely bonkers. It hadn’t gotten me very far but it’d felt damn good, almost therapeutic. Now I was amped up on caffeine and being walked to my sleazy motel room door by what had to be one of the hottest men I’d ever met, and suddenly, it seemed completely appropriate to continue on the same, absolutely wild, totally careless path.
I fished for the key in my pocket and turned back toward Slade. A layer of coastal mist floated past his face. With hisdeep green eyes, he looked a little out of this world, like the devil himself had sent one of his men down to walk me to my room.
“So, I was thinking—” I looked back at the pink door with the number six on it. “I believe that when you’re staying in a cheap motel on the interstate, you’re required to have tawdry, uninhibited sex with some secret lover or a stranger or”—I waved my arm in front of him—“or your partner in crime.”
His brow lifted. “I like where this is going.”
“And since I’m completely hyped up on caffeine or whatever the hell rocket fuel they put in those damn energy drinks, and since I probably won’t be able to sleep for hours, and since the room is just a little too small for pacing properly and since I’m standing here withthis—” Again, I waved my arm in front of him.
“This?” he asked.
“You know, really hot guy with the muscles and the ink and the cocky confidence, and, damn—you took on three guys at once with the ease that a mortal man takes on swatting a fly.” I was rambling and I knew it, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. It had been that kind of a night. Hell, it had been that kind of a year. “Anyhow, you look like you might be—how should I put it?—?”
“Skilled with the ladies?” he added.
“Yes. Eloquently put, by the way, because I was going to say a fun fuck.”
He gazed down at me looking a little baffled.
