Chapter Thirty-Four
Thirty-Four
Josie
Axe pulls over to the side of the road. The storm has hit hard and fast, and it’s impossible to see more than one foot in front of the windshield.
“The rain can’t keep up like this. Let’s wait it out for a few minutes,” he says.
I appreciate that he’s not going all macho and putting us in a dangerous situation.
Bryan once drove us through a blizzard so he could grab a jalapeno double cheeseburger from a Carl’s Jr. drive-through.
He couldn’t even be convinced to stop at the closer KFC, because to him, my life was worth less than a Big Angus El Diablo.
The car smells like new leather and Axe’s cologne—it reminds me of woodsmoke and Christmas morning.
We are cocooned in here, rain pounding on the roof like background music, with the windows all fogged up.
Axe turns in his seat to face me, and I feel his look all down my body, especially between my legs.
“So now what?” he asks.
“You totally planned this, didn’t you? Getting trapped in a storm is like a perfect fantasy scenario.” I meet his gaze, but it’s intense—too intense. His blue eyes are burning holes right through me. I have to look away.
The moment feels electric. My heart’s racing and my stomach’s in knots in the worst best way.
“I do not control the weather, Josie Greene.” There’s something about him saying my full name that makes me go weak in the knees.
He reaches out his hand, and he traces my jaw with his fingertip until he reaches my chin.
He tilts my head the slightest bit up so I have no choice but to look at him again.
My chest burns, but I shiver. “Are you cold, lass?”
Is he wired already? Are we being live streamed for some corporate control room so that data crunchers can pore over and parse every charged moment between us?
I picture a white van not too far away, like something out of an FBI sting operation.
A mismatched pair of cops laughing at me for falling for this man’s every line.
I shake away the thought. This may be a job, but I was wrong about Axe.
He’d never make me the butt of the joke.
“I’m fine. It’s toasty.” Though the heat I’m feeling has nothing to do with the temperature.
“Thanks for coming with me. For doing all this,” he says, his voice low and sincere.
I shrug, trying to play it cool. “I needed a health insurance plan.”
“True, but this whole thing—the dates, the haptic suits, us using you as a model—isn’t easy. And you’ve been so open and game. I appreciate it.” Axe pauses and then seems to make a decision. “The whole team does.”
The team. Of course. Two steps forward and one step back.
“Well, it hasn’t all been torture. I bet Shimmy Beach will be cool.” I lean back, trying to sound breezy. “Even though it’s no Toygasm.”
Then Axe drops his gaze to my lips, and electricity zings between us again—oh God, I desperately want him to kiss me—but I see him change his mind. He turns to look out the windshield. “Rain’s letting up a little. We can still make up for some time.”
Carefully, he maneuvers us back onto the highway. The rhythmic sound of the windshield wipers slows, and I watch as patches of blue sky peek through the heavy clouds. Anticipation fizzes up inside me.
“You know, I’ve never been so far north,” I tell him, “although my mom drove me to Long Island once. But that was just because they had to run some diagnostic tests. I was only at the blood lab.”
Axe frowns, his hands tightening around the steering wheel as he returns his focus to the rain-slicked road. “Nobody can accuse you of having a carefree childhood, can they, lass?” he asks, but it’s not a question. Not really.
“Maybe not—but this morning I pulled a tarot card,” I tell him. “Got the Fool, so I knew today was gonna be a good one.”
Axe shoots me a look, intrigued. “All right. I’m listening.”
“Well, the Fool’s all about unexpected stuff—like crazy, funny adventures,” I explain. “Which is basically what we’re doing, right? Every day with you is a whole wild card situation. To be honest, I’m gonna miss these wacky fake dates.”
Axe smiles, but then suddenly seems to sink deep in thought.
I go quiet, too. I wonder if he’s thinking what I’m thinking—that, yes, soon this will all be over.
The She’s the One team will have their info, and my ongoing work will involve tweaks with the tech guys and some voice-over instead of these elaborate dates.
At least he’ll be left with an AI Josie. I’ll be left with nothing at all.
Scratch that. I’m getting health insurance, keeping my cute new apartment, and starting a whole new life thanks to this opportunity.
And right now, I’m sitting in a sexy sports car in the middle of a rainstorm next to the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.
Might as well soak it all up while I can.
And if I literally have to sit on my hands for the rest of this trip just to stop myself from grabbing Axe and kissing him…
welp, that’s just part of the job, I guess.
—
By the time we pull up to the Nautical Nook, the rain has calmed down to a gentle mist. The air feels clean and cool, and I’m feeling oddly good, despite the fact that I’ve been snacking on Sour Patch Kids and Bugles for the last forty miles.
No sugar crash, no headache, and miraculously, no asthma attack from the humidity—Mom would be stunned.
Axe, on the other hand, is out of the car like a shot.
“What the fuck?” he snaps, looking hugely pissed, though clearly not at me.
I have no clue why he’s mad. The storm cleared. We made good time.
Presumably, we’re back on track, even if I don’t know what that track entails.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. He looks around, wide-eyed.
“What’s wrong? Look at the place! It’s a shithole!
The team told me it had five stars. Josie, I’m so sorry.
” I glance at the hotel, then back at Axe, then back at the hotel.
Honestly, I think it looks pretty adorable.
The building is wrapped in a fishing net, there is a giant anchor statue out front, and a hand-painted sign reads Ahoy Mateys.
“Maybe it went overboard on theme, but I’m kind of into it,” I say truthfully as I get out of the car and join him. “Check out that anchor. It’s a pirate’s dream vacation—I should have brought my waders. Hey, and I bet we find some buried treasure in the minibar.”
“We’ll be lucky if we find clean sheets.” Axe rolls his eyes, but I can tell my treasure joke has landed. “Unbelievable.”
“I literally do not get why you’re so stressed.”
He drags his hands through his rain-dampened hair. “I was expecting something with a touch more class and a bit less…Jack Sparrow,” he mutters.
“As long as we don’t have to swab decks, I’m all in.”
Axe is still unconvinced. “Look, I can call the team now, and we’ll reroute. I’m sure I can get a suite at the Ritz or the Four Seasons in Philly. I think they’ve booked us dinner at some local French bistro—but it’s cancellable.”
“Nope. We’re in this together. Come on,” I say, slipping my hand through his, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine.
A little thrill shoots up my arm as I tug him toward the door, which is designed to look like the entrance to an old ship, complete with a fake wooden wheel affixed to one side as a doorknob.
“Remember the tarot? Embrace the unpredictable. This is supposed to be authentic, so we’ll roll with it.
Besides, pirates never stay at the Ritz. ”
He hesitates, but the heat between our clasped hands seems to sway him.
I lead him up the steps, and it’s only after we step inside and approach the check-in desk, which is in the shape of a ship’s bow and manned by a sixteen-year-old in an oversized pirate hat, that I reluctantly drop his hand—just as one of those plastic singing-bass wall plaques starts bellowing “What Shall We Do with a Drunken Sailor?” “See?” I laugh.
“You can’t get that kind of entertainment at the Four Seasons. ”
“No,” Axe says, and he starts to turn around. “Not happening.”
“You’re a wuss,” I say.
“Ginger Snap, I spent years in private security. I am not a wuss. I refuse.”
“You can’t refuse. The ship has already sailed.”
He levels me with a look. “You did not just say that.”
“Oh, but I did.” I gesture at the lavish decor. “You need to embrace the theme. Let go, be free.”
Axe closes his eyes. “This is my nightmare.”
“And follow orders or I’ll make you walk the plank.” I bump my hip against his and grin up at him. “No joke, I truly love this place and am psyched to be here with you.”
“You’re a menace, you know that?” But he’s smiling a little.
“And you’re my first mate. So let’s do this.”
I turn my attention to the teenager behind the desk. He’s dressed in a striped shirt, wears an eye patch, and is clearly deeply embarrassed by this whole setup.
As we approach, he mutters an unenthusiastic “Um, ahoy…mateys,” his voice barely above a whisper, as if he’s hoping we don’t hear him. “Checking in?”
“Yup. MacKenzie. Two rooms,” Axe says. He’s polite but carrying an edge of authority that, along with the half a foot of height he’s got over this poor kid, only seems to make the clerk shrink even smaller.
“Yes, sir.” The boy, whose on-brand name tag reads Skip, fumbles with his one eye to type on an ancient computer that’s draped in fishing net with a starfish dangling precariously off the side.
“Umm, your first name is Axe? Like, for real?”
“For real,” Axe says.
“Cool name, bro,” he says.
“Is your name for real?” I ask with a smile.
Skip blushes as he grins back. “When I’m on the clock, it is. Ma likes a nautical theme.”
Now that’s an understatement. The corner of Axe’s mouth quirks up, and I have to hold in my laughter.