Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
The warmth of the room had flushed her cheeks. Loose strands escaped her ponytail, trailing down her back. Her lips were slightly parted in sleep, her breathing soft and even.
She looked perfect.
It was a damn shame to have to wake her.
I didn’t exactly have a great plan for what lay ahead. Taking the car and coming to this motel had all been incredibly impulsive. The whole ordeal probably wasn’t my brightest idea, but I didn’t regret getting Trace alone so we could finally clear the air.
Instead of waking Trace, I decided to jump in the shower and rinse off. It was difficult to tell if the tile was intentionally a soft yellow or if the coloring was a result of years of grime and buildup. I tried not to think too hard about it.
As the scalding water streamed over my body, I forced myself to think.
Now what the hell did we do? I’d already called my buddy from the hotel phone and told him where his jeep was, so that he could pick it up.
Unfortunately, I knew that we had to go back. Our time on the run had to end sometime. I’d already forced Trace to break her contract, and now we’d have to face the consequences.
I toweled off and returned to the room. Trace had gotten up and wrapped my shirt around herself.
“Shower is all yours, although I’m not sure I feel cleaner after using it.” My chest tugged a little seeing how gorgeous she looked in the morning. Her content smile and the knowledge that I was the reason behind it was the best thing in the world to wake up to.
She groaned with laughter. “I’m going to brave it. Anything is better than how I feel now.”
“Trying to wash me off you.” I ensnared her waist as she tried to slip by me.
Giggling, she put her hands on my chest. “Not at all.”
I kissed her long and slow, pretending for a minute that we didn’t have to face reality.
After Trace got cleaned up, she put back on her dress from the night before and tied my dress shirt around her waist. We took the steps back down to the office.
“What’s the plan?” she asked with a frown after we dropped off the key.
“I have no idea.”
A commotion across the street caught my attention. There were several vans and cars at the bar we’d been at last night. People ran around frantically in the parking lot.
“There they are!” Someone shouted, pointing right at us.
“Shit,” I muttered.
The damned show had found us somehow. How the hell had they tracked us down? We weren’t too far from the restaurant where we’d filmed last night, but still. There were dozens of shitty motels and bars along the road. How had they possibly managed to find the one we were holed up at?
Trace sighed. “The jig is up.”
As they got into the cars and rushed toward us, I turned toward Trace and squeezed her hands. In case they ripped us apart, which they probably would, I couldn’t have her doubting anything.
“Don’t forget anything we talked about, okay?” I kissed her hands. “I meant every word. And we’re leaving here together in just a couple of days. Whatever fine or threats they throw at you, we’ll handle them together.”
That was all I got to say before we were surrounded. It felt like the ending of a bad heist movie, except the only thing I was trying to heist was my girl’s heart. My pulse pounded as yet another van joined the crowd in the parking lot. I half-felt the need to put my hands in the air.
Brady stormed out of one of the cars, looking beyond pissed. He swung the door shut so hard, it was like he was trying to leave a dent. He didn’t even yell at first, just aggressively shook his head as he stalked toward the two of us.
“What the actual hell!?”
“Uh. Sorry?” Trace offered with a small shrug. Pride swelled in my chest that she didn’t sound apologetic in the slightest.
“You can’t just run off like that! We’re filming a show. Do you even know how many contract stipulations you broke?”
She winced at that, and I tugged her closer to me.
“You.” He pointed. “Off of her.”
Anger tore through me, and I made no move to step away from her. The death glare I gave him must have been a good one because his eyes widened and he cleared his throat.
“How did you find us?” I asked.
“Oh, what? Were you planning to evade us? Be the next Bonnie and Clyde?”
I shrugged. I hadn’t actually planned out anything past this morning.
He let out a dramatic sigh. “Someone posted a video from the bar last night, along with a few pictures of you and Trace snuggled up together. They went viral.”
Did he seem a little excited underneath his pissed-off demeanor?
I frowned, stealing a glance at Trace. “And you’re…fine with that?” I guessed.
“Oh.” He held up his hand. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m still fuming about yesterday. But this whole thing has resulted in a lot of talk about the two of you. Which, in turn, has resulted in a whole lot of talk about the show.”
“Soooo…we’re off the hook?” Trace blinked at him innocently.
Brady narrowed his eyes. “Not quite. Let’s just get back to the house and talk about wrapping this up.”
Trace and I followed him to a van. She got in first, before someone stepped between us.
“Other car,” Brady snapped. “Right now. Don’t test me, Danny.”
I briefly thought about fighting them off, but Trace just smiled and gave me a reassuring nod. “It’s alright. I’ll see you later.”
My chest tightened as they closed the door on her. Separation wasn’t something I wanted to deal with, especially after all the time we’d already spent apart. Even now, after I was confident in where we stood, I still hated it.
Brady steered me toward another van. He opened his mouth, but I interrupted him before he could get anything out.
“If you’re going to come at me about all the violations, save your breath.” I waved him off dismissively. “Just send me a bill. Trace’s, too, for that matter.”
Brady rolled his eyes as he gestured for me to get inside the van. “I wasn’t going to say that.”
“Then what?” I demanded, my patience already wafer-thin with this man.
A PA climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car. Brady held up a hand, motioning for him to wait a minute before he turned back to me. He leaned his slim body against the doorframe, otherwise I might have just closed the door in his face.
“So, you and Trace. Back together, eh?”
“Yes,” I said simply. This man would not get any ammunition out of me.
“And the big finale is coming up.” He tapped his chin. “You know what always makes for a great finale?”
I stayed silent, glaring at him.
“A proposal.” He winked at me, and I fought back an eye roll.
When I didn’t respond, he continued. “We can take you to a jeweler, pick out a nice ring…”
“No,” I said forcefully. Not because I had no interest in marrying Trace. The opposite, actually. I’d love to bind her to me. Even if we had only just gotten back together, I had no doubt in my mind that she was the one.
“Oh, come on.” Brady pouted. “The show will pay for the ring. Within reason, of course.”
“No.”
Brady exhaled sharply, any faux-niceness dropping from his face as irritation set in. “Fine,” he hissed. “You’re so damn stubborn.”
With that, he slammed the door on me and stalked over to the van they’d put Trace into.
There was no way in hell he’d convince me to do this.
When I proposed to Trace, I wanted it to be special.
I wanted it to be all about her, with no stench of this phony-ass show attached to it.
To think, they had been pressuring her to get engaged to Tripp just the other day.
They were slimy and only cared about what storyline they could edit and air.
No. When I did ask her to officially spend the rest of our lives together, it would be perfect. And most importantly, it would be real.