Chapter Eleven
The Seven Roads Motel wasn’t actually out of business. Instead, it was waiting in a limbo between the former owner and the one who was taking it over—his ex-wife. Her name was Brandy Lane, and she was the disowned granddaughter of the Lanes whom the hospital was named after.
She was also close friends with Detective Darius Williams, one of the few people in the sheriff’s department who knew about what had happened at James’s home.
“Brandy’s no-good ex is living in Texas now, so he won’t barge in here asking questions or anything,” Darius explained. “Not that he cares about the property. He just wanted to tie Brandy up in legal fees and paperwork before she could open it back up.”
He helped them into the room and, along with James, was inspecting every inch. Rose stood in the corner, throat hurting and head throbbing. The smell of lavender was unavoidable. She suspected there was still soap in her hair.
Someone sidled into the patch of old carpet next to her. Rose could make out the braids in her peripheral. That and the very pregnant belly.
Blake might not have been a sheriff anymore, but her presence was no less intimidating. Thankfully, Rose had known Blake since they were kids, and that intimidation had never put her off the woman. She found it instead to be more of a comfort.
“Are we going to gloss over the fact that our dear Detective Williams seems to be closer to Brandy Lane than we originally thought or are we going to talk about it at length and with a lot of imagined details?”
Blake was smiling. She was trying to lighten the mood.
Rose appreciated it.
“You think there’s something there just because our stern, closed-off, very blunt Darius suddenly has this trust in someone we’ve never even known he was on speaking terms with?
” She snorted. “Of course we’re going to talk about this.
Just let me see if I can survive this Brandy Lane’s kindness first and then I’m all in for gossip. ”
Blake stiffened next to her. The little lightness she had tried to bring in was gone. She lowered her voice even though James and Darius were in the bathroom.
“This time, we made sure that only a handful of us know you two are staying here. In fact, only a few of us even know about what happened right now. Liam and Price are dealing with that man with a firm grip. We’re keeping a lid on the whole attack as much as possible.
” She thumbed over her shoulder to the motel room’s door.
“We have different cars now, we all made sure no one followed us from James’s house, and all communication between you and us have gone to personal phones and computers. ”
“You think someone at the department leaked that I was staying at James’s instead of my apartment? Even after we tried to be careful about it?”
It had been a question dogging all of them already—how anyone could even know she was at James’s house in the first place—but Rose had a hard time believing someone at the department had been the one to spill the beans. At least, not on purpose. A sentiment Blake seemed to agree with.
“Not intentionally, but we can’t ignore the fact that we’re all human and live in a small, usually boring, town.
If even one person mentioned it to their friends or family, that would be all it took to get the town’s gossip mill up and turning.
So this time, we’re locking the knowledge up as tightly as possible.
” Blake, who had switched out with her husband at James’s house once it was time to leave, looked thoughtful for the first time since then.
“What about James, though?” she continued.
“Do we need to worry about him talking to anyone? Anyone close to him?”
“He’s single.”
The words popped out of Rose’s mouth before she could stop them.
Blake cast her a sidelong glance. It burned Rose to see that the woman also seemed to be clamping down on a smile.
“Oh, is he, now?” Blake lowered her voice even more. It sounded suspiciously mischievous. “Did our little Little gain that knowledge naturally or did she go fishing for it?”
If Blake hadn’t been pregnant—and honestly, so much taller than Rose—she would have shoulder-checked her. As it was, she gave Blake a hefty eye roll.
“It came up in a conversation about our lives while we were hiding out. You know, from people trying to kill me.”
Blake met her with an answering eye roll.
“Don’t you try and guilt me just because I’m asking a reasonable personal question,” she said. “Darius isn’t the only one acting out of pocket.”
As if on cue, James exited the bathroom in deep conversation with the detective.
Blake didn’t point to him or nod his way, but Rose knew they were both all eyes on the man.
“You don’t seem to mind him sticking to you.”
Rose didn’t know what to say to that—mostly because it was true—and was instead saved by the man himself. He walked over to them and put his hands on his hips, his brow knitted together in what felt like a subordinate giving a slightly off-putting report to a superior.
With them, though, it turned into James dropping his chin so he could stare down into the much smaller Rose.
“Despite no one using it for a bit, this place is pretty good, other than needing a bit of quick dusting,” he started.
“It was good on Brandy Lane to keep the power and water running too, or else this wouldn’t be ideal.
I’m going to start cleaning and get these sheets and blankets switched out while y’all finish up your conversation.
” He looked to Blake. “Unless there’s something else you need from me? ”
Darius and Blake answered in unison that there wasn’t.
The two men went to get the supplies James had thought to bring from his house out of the car while Blake tapped the suitcase she had rolled into the room earlier.
“With the help of our FBI agent friend, we got you some more things from your apartment. Clothes, toiletries and some snacks he found in the pantry he thought you might like.”
Rose’s eyes widened. Blake read her thoughts.
“Don’t worry. I’ve known the agent for a long time. He was respectful with it and even had his wife on the phone while he packed to make sure he got what you might need.” Blake rubbed a hand over her stomach. “I would have done it myself, but it was decided that was a risk not worth taking.”
Just in case there was another attacker lying in wait for Rose.
She didn’t spell that out, though, and Blake didn’t either. Instead, they said their goodbyes after James finished bringing in the rest of their things.
Then, after one last warning to be safe, it was just Rose and James alone again.
It was an odd feeling to watch him. She had settled into one of the two worn wooden chairs by the air-conditioning unit and, like fireflies during a summer night, her attention seemed to flicker and float around him alone.
He hummed. She couldn’t make out the tune, but it was upbeat. Slow in some parts, fast in others. He bobbed his head to match the beat sometimes, but no matter what, he focused on the chore he was currently attending to without missing a step.
He dusted every surface in the room with careful dedication.
The nightstands, the table next to her, the chest of drawers opposite the bed, and even the curtains.
From there he wiped them down with cleaner spray and wipes before going into the bathroom to presumably do the same.
He came back and set to the flannel bundle he’d brought in earlier.
True to word, it was a new set of sheets, pillowcases and quilt top.
Rose watched in absolute awe while he redid the bed as if it was the most normal situation there was.
When he was done, he took both of their bags and situated them on top of the chest of drawers.
Then he placed his hands on his hips, did a slow turnaround to survey their space, and then, seemingly pleased with himself, nodded.
“This place isn’t that bad now,” he said. “Honestly, the paint job here is probably better than my place.”
Rose wanted to smile, she really did, but it was like sitting down had drained whatever she had left fueling her everything-is-fine guise. It was disappointing to realize that she couldn’t fake it anymore, especially after getting her gusto back once she had finished crying earlier.
James filled the silence after a moment.
“I’m going to test out the shower really quick.” He went to double-check the locks on the door, the clamp, and peeked out of the window. He drew back and nodded, once again to himself. Rose was starting to like the habit. As if he was constantly in a conversation with himself, and winning.
“Here, come keep me company,” he added.
Rose felt her eyes widen but he merely explained by picking up the other chair. He walked it over to the bathroom and set it down just inside of the doorway.
James came back for a change of clothes, a towel he had also had the mind to pack, and then he came for her.
“I know you’re strong and fearless and can handle anything thrown your way, but what we went through tonight got to me, and I’d feel a whole lot more comfortable if we could stick together for the rest of it.
” He outstretched his free hand. “You don’t have to do anything but sit and listen to me chatter. ”
If it had been anyone else, she would have laughed at how ridiculous the request was. Yet, Rose took his hand. A moment later, she was sitting in another old wooden chair, facing the bed, the rest of the bathroom behind her.
True to his word, he started up the chatter quickly.
Rose listened enough to know she wasn’t needed for it. He talked about Mr. Donahue and another client. Then he was talking about his trip he’d taken once to the mountains.
Rose floated in and out of the conversation long enough to catch a few points.
He liked the mountains and snow.
He liked hiking too but preferred to bike.
There was a breakfast shop he’d been to and it was nice.
He liked breakfast, especially omelets.
He’d never made an omelet for anyone other than his parents before.
He thought it might rain in the next few days.
When the shower cut off, she wasn’t sure if she had missed anything else. If she did, James didn’t fault her for it.
He dressed in silence behind her. When he was done with that, he reached around and patted her shoulder. She turned and looked up, up and up at him.
Gold with green and brown, all dancing around together in his eyes.
He asked a question, and she nodded in answer.
It wasn’t until she was bent over, her head against the lip of the sink, and warm water running in tandem with his fingers over her hair, that she realized what he had offered.
James Keller, the giant who had broken a man’s nose like it was nothing, gently washed out the last of her earlier bath’s soap from her hair. And when the job was done, he kept on going.
Without one word between them he brushed her hair out and patted it dry.
A new change of clothes came next. They weren’t hers but Rose couldn’t find time to care.
When that was done, the distance between the bathroom and the bed blurred.
Warm hands led her along it and then she blinked, and that warmth had turned into a sea of flannel around her.
Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Rose knew she had finally broken down. Just as she knew that, during the entire conversation in the shower, she had been staring at the lone bed in their room.
She shouldn’t be this close to James, a stranger. She shouldn’t accept his help or pity. She shouldn’t endanger him or the things he loved all for her mistake. She shouldn’t have let him get close. She shouldn’t let him get closer.
Yet, when the time finally came for the lights to go out, Rose couldn’t be bothered to care when the space next to her in bed was filled with by a man she’d just met a little over a week ago.
Because there was one thing Rose knew to be true more than all the rest.
James was warm.
And, to her, that was enough.