The Starlight Motel

Chapter Eight

Scratching an itch behind his ear, Dane watched Kada reach for cleaning supplies and avoided looking at the box of toiletries higher on the shelf. The label inventoried safety razors, feminine hygiene products, and condoms. To be sure, his view of her ass held his interest, but her response threw up a no-go signal so pronounced that even a dunce like him knew to back off. Yet, here he stood, admiring a pretty woman, eying a box of condoms on the top shelf, and wanting more than a flirtatious smile.

Piecing together what he knew about her life, he searched for another angle to hold her interest. She came to the valley to check on Hall and stayed past his funeral, but running the motel didn’t match her training. The half-finished casita murals seemed like an ode to desert life, but he suspected she was capable of more creativity. “Did you design the murals you’re painting?”

“Yep.”

Her single-word affirmative stalled his progress faster than a dry well. He cleared his throat. “Why did you pick plants? Most people would have gone with the sunset.”

She handed him the iron. “A solid choice.”

“But not yours.” He set the heavy, metal tool on the floor and leaned against the wall. “Why?”

“Pouring my free time into the murals gives me an outlet. When the guests act bonkers, the staff goes on the fritz, or the facilities need professional intervention”—she glanced at the washing machine—“I can take a deep breath and think about the plants. I can think about what I’ll paint next and how I’ll approach the design.”

“Have you heard of crossword puzzles?”

She laughed and moved items on the shelf. “Plus, most visitors don’t get to see the plants bloom. Pops showed me the hidden pockets of vegetation. He had a sixth sense for when they would reveal their glory.”

“Probably hard-earned experience.” He peeled his gaze off her backside and looked at his boots. “People who live their life in nature learn to appreciate it.”

“That’s the problem,” she said. “Not everyone has that luxury. Did you order dinner?”

He looked up and wondered why she was so taciturn about her art. “A salad.”

She shifted her weight and looked over her shoulder. “You ordered a salad?”

“With meat and cheese. The lettuce is more like a garnish. Maybe cilantro.” He rubbed his stomach. “Also, elote garlic bread.”

She climbed down the ladder. “Is that on the menu? Do we make elote garlic bread?”

“You do now.” He loved the charred, mayo-slathered corn too much to reserve it for grill night. Benito mentioned ancho chili powder and seared corn as if he could make the dish in his sleep. Dane felt his stomach rumble. A second later, he remembered how much he wanted to share the meal with Kada. “Benito brought me a taste, and I decided to propose.”

“To Benito? Maybe he’ll give you the recipe.” She grinned and set the iron on top of the washing machine. “Don’t count out Stephanie. She can get fierce over splitting tips. Imagine what she would do if you moved on her man.”

“Funny.” He wanted to pull Kada close. Instead, he checked a row of keys hanging on a piece of pegboard. Hall’s precise handwriting marked the color-coded labels. The blue ink, faded with time, looked like the speckled aluminum cups he used while camping. Had Kada ever been camping?

First, he wanted a dinner date, and now, he wanted the intimacy of a shared campfire. He shook off the thought and focused on her needs. Keeping track of her Palm Springs crew must keep life interesting. She’s as invested in the motel as I am in the farm. She might not know it yet, but she doesn’t want to leave this place. I want to give her a reason to stay.

She unfolded the drying rack. “Well, the elote garlic bread might break your keto salad, but it’s probably ready now. We can head back.”

He reached for the door handle.

“Unless you want to stay a minute.”

Her voice dropped to a slow, hesitant whisper, and he replayed the comment ten times before he turned.

She cleared her throat. “Unless you changed your mind. I know what I’m getting into.”

“Getting into?” Women usually came to him. This time, he stepped forward. “You sound like you’re going into battle.”

She rubbed together her fingers.

If she couldn’t tell whether she had silk or snakeskin within her grasp, then he would give her silk. Frankly, he would give her anything she wanted for a simple kiss. Afraid of scaring her, he stopped within arm’s reach, but she had room to bolt. He hoped she had other intentions.

“You ride into town like an old west cowboy.”

He stepped closer. “Kada, I rode into a motel courtyard on a horse.”

“And you’re handsome, and handy, and attentive”—she frowned—“and the glasses.”

“Do you want me to put them back on?” He kept his hands pinned to his sides.

She wet her lips. “No, but I’ve seen plenty of cowboys in Wyoming. I didn’t have to move here for a glimpse of what I’ve seen and let go.”

“Just a cowboy, huh?” He cupped her elbow and pulled her closer.

“And your family keeps trying to buy the motel.”

He tilted his head. Her lips looked sweeter than anything he’d seen on-site. “Ambitious fools.”

“Don’t you run that farm?”

He smiled and wet his lips. “I run a lot of things, but the stress keeps me up late at night. Sometimes, I see you moving around the motel like a ghost, and I can’t quite get a grip on what you’re doing down here at all hours of the night.”

“Painting. When you’re wide awake up there,” she whispered, “at all hours of the night.”

“Exactly.” Pulling her close, he lowered his head, brushed his lips across hers, and waited for a hint of enthusiasm before he truly kissed her. She thought him handsome, but did she want more than laughter? He hoped he knew the answer.

Sharing the same breath, she tasted like sweet nectar and hard-earned sweat. He swore he would never forget the taste, but he gave her space to flee.

She closed the distance, draped her hands over his shoulders, and shifted her weight.

Her confidence kindled his senses. Forgetting the drab storeroom and the impatient dinner crowd, he smiled against her lips. “The next time I’m awake, I’ll remember this kiss.”

“Well, let’s make sure you have something to remember.”

He deepened the kiss and forgot about the tangle of weather, water, and weevils threatening his crops. A moment later, he forgot his name. The feisty, capable woman in his arms kissed away his worries, and she was certainly kissing him back.

Then she stopped.

He struggled to form a coherent thought.

“Wait!” She pushed against his chest. “I can’t do this. I have a motel to run.”

He could do this all night. Instead, he cleared his throat. “I’ll rent a room.”

“No vacancy.”

“Liar.” He held her gaze and challenged her to accept his proposition.

She blushed. “Where would you put Smoky?”

Responsibility nagged at his consciousness. He wanted to squash it like a bug, but he and Kada had one thing in common; they knew how to get a job done. Also, they knew how to kiss. Good grief, the woman had passion. If it flowed from her artistic training, then he would open a gallery and worship her work.

“Dane, I can’t…”

Hearing her hesitation, he reconsidered the merits of subtlety and respect. “Let Walter take her home. Tell Mariah your water pump failed, and I need to fix it.”

“Is that a euphemism?”

He smiled and pulled back. “Maybe.”

She slapped his chest.

He caught her hand and held it flush over his beating heart. His balance felt off-kilter, and indulging his need for her might be the only way to regain his equilibrium. “Kada, don’t hide behind the motel. Admit you want to spend time with me. Naked. In a bed.”

Leaning close, she pressed a kiss beneath his ear. “I want to spend time with you.”

He could feel the warmth of her breath against his neck. Instinctively, he tightened his grip.

She shifted her head.

Without missing a beat, he claimed her lips, and let the kiss unfold in slow motion. No longer content with the soft prize of her lips, he sank into her warmth and unleashed the hungry, lingering kiss he wanted. She met him, and his head swam. Someone tapped on the door, but he moaned and obscured the noise. They could find a bar of soap themselves. The woman in his arms was the only person who deserved his attention. As he deepened the kiss, he cupped her butt in both hands.

She leaned in, gave a little hop, and wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Closer,” he whispered against her lips.

Winding both arms around his neck, she complied.

Clasped close, he hardly noticed her weight. He needed to feel her body, but a man could only do so much standing in the middle of a laundry room. Telling himself he did it to keep her safe, he hitched her against him. The moment he felt her heat press against him, he nearly dropped her flat on her ass and took her on the concrete floor. Backing up two steps, he leaned against the washing machine and pulled away from the kiss. “Tell me to stop.” His voice came out ragged. “We can stop.”

She tugged the hair teasing his shirt collar. “I don’t want you to stop.”

He grinned. She didn’t sound very put together herself. Turning, he settled her on top of the machine, braced his arms on either side, and dropped his head to her chest. She had a beautiful ass, but he wanted to spend the evening savoring her breasts. He looked up. “How many appliances do you have on the property? I can fix all of them.”

“Is that so?” Leaning forward, she pushed him back, unbuttoned his shirt, splayed her fingers on his chest, and ran her thumb’s edge between his pecs and toward his waistband. “Let’s see what you can do with this machine.”

Her exploration stopped short of giving him what he wanted, but watching her investigate his body was almost as much fun as kissing her. If she wanted to use all her senses, he would find the patience to indulge her.

A car raced down the highway. Its meaty, throaty rumble echoed in the valley.

He doubted they had all night to play games. “Or we could drop the pretenses.”

Looking up, she faltered and dropped her hands.

The sweet hint of vulnerability unnerved him. He grabbed her hips. “Ignore me. I’ll fix everything.”

She smiled. “I tried to ignore you, but I don’t need you to fix me.”

Before he said anything else stupid, he slipped his hands under her pretty shirt, massaged her back, and kissed her. Every inch of her skin felt like an erotic prize. Unsnapping her bra, he lifted her shirt over her head, pulled off the bra, and set the clothes beside her. “Working for you?” He rolled a beautiful, peaked nipple between his fingers. “Feel good?”

She leaned close and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Should I turn on the spin cycle?”

“Maybe? This isn’t my normal venue.”

Laughing, she scooted to the edge of the machine and reached toward him. “Good.”

He shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it on the floor. She pressed her beautiful, naked beasts against his overheated skin and kissed him like a woman who found messing around in a laundry room perfectly exciting. He straight-up moaned. If she wanted to get her kicks living on the edge, then he would help her fall.

She pulled back and chewed her bottom lip. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

He slowly kicked off his boots, unbuckled his belt, slid down the zipper of his jeans, and pushed the denim to the floor. Left wearing his underwear, he crossed his arms, raised an eyebrow, and nodded toward her attire. “So are you.”

Lifting her hips, she slid off her jeans, scrambled to her knees, and matched his stance.

A man didn’t need an engraved invitation. He hooked a forefinger in her panties, pulled them from her hips, raised his head, and waited for her kiss. Balanced on the machine, she had the advantage of height, and her hair flowed over her shoulders in a silken wave.

She dropped her head and kissed him.

He let himself go wild. His hands went everywhere he could reach, touching her skin, as his mouth tasted her lips. The combination of her soft skin, clever lips, and growing heat stoked his desire. He wondered if he would explode before they even got close to having sex. “Kada…”

She slipped a hand beneath his briefs and stroked his erection.

“That, um”—he cleared his throat—“touch will get you in trouble.”

“I only have time for trouble.” She gripped him harder and made eye contact.

He closed his eyes and struggled to form words. Giving up subtleties, he took a deep breath and enjoyed every minute of her touch. If life wanted to test his resolve with a beautiful woman, he would weather the storm. The moment she released him, he stepped back.

“Dane?” She frowned.

Two could play this game. Pulling her hips forward, he spread her legs and dropped his mouth to her heat. She tasted better than anything his fields could produce. As he licked and sucked, he felt her hands gripping his shoulders. Her quick breaths urged him to continue. He might just try the spin cycle…

Gripping his hair, she pulled him back.

He looked at her glistening folds like a kid yanked from a candy store.

“You planning to tease me all night?”

Looking up, he met her gaze and savored her warm, easy smile. She could play it cool, but a flush stained her cheeks, she held her lips slightly open, and the pulse he felt in her thigh beat much faster than a woman tolerating his attention. “Maybe.”

She narrowed her gaze.

“Maybe not.” He would bend her over the washing machine and make love until the entire valley heard her release, but he retained some restraint. Barely. Turning, he found the box of condoms he saw stashed in the supply closet and tossed them next to her.

“Ambitious.”

He laughed and hoped the latex wasn’t so expired it cracked in his hands. Tearing open a packet, he then sheathed himself, pulled her off the washing machine, and dropped his ass into the cold, metal chair sitting by the laundry sink. The slap stung, but not as much as losing his momentum would. “You’re my only ambition.”

She cocked a hip. “Is that so?”

Crooking a finger, he beckoned her.

She eased toward him.

Watching her move, he said a quick prayer that she could accommodate his girth in such rough conditions. He had nothing else to offer, and she was as skittish as woman torn between two desires. If he pulled off this feat, then she would only think of him.

She straddled him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and inched forward.

The wet smack of skin beckoned, but he had to do more than claim her. He nudged the head of his cock in first.

She perched over him, her muscles shaking as her heartbeat pulsed along her neck.

Leaning forward, he kissed the soft skin. “Second thoughts?” His harsh tone betrayed his straining control.

“No.” Adjusting her seat, she made eye contact and sank down on his girth without breaking the connection.

He inhaled and watched her expressions. Every inch of acceptance claimed his loyalty, and every soft, amazed sigh left an imprint on his body. Seating himself deep in her heat, he groaned and gripped her waist. “Oh yeah, Kada. Damn, you feel good.”

Arching sharply, her hair spilling down her back, she rode his thrusts.

Skimming his palms up her back, he crushed her down, pinned her hips before he blew his load, and kissed her wildly. Holding her close, he rocked her forward as their bodies slid in sync, and his muscles tensed. Gasping for breath and endurance, he loosened his hold and drew a deep, ragged breath.

She shimmied up the girth of his cock with slow undulations of her hips. Making eye contact, she slammed back down and bit her bottom lip.

“Damn me.” Holding tight to her ass, he pumped up and down faster. Her heat and wetness eased his concerns, and he pistoned into her as shouts shredded his throat. “Kada…” Her groans urged him toward satisfaction, but opening his eyes, he found her back bowed and her hand spread flat against his chest. Worrying he’d taken too many liberties, he stilled her hips and buried his face in her neck. “Tell me what feels good, Kada. Tell me how fast. Tell me how slow.” The effort about killed him, but he wanted more than a fair ride. Whether she stayed in the valley or returned to LA, this moment mattered, and he doubted he would ever forget her honeyed taste.

“This feels good.” She guided him inside her and rocked forward. “Make it feel better.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Gripping her hips, he pulled her against him, set a heady rhythm, and lost himself in her heat, her sweat-slicked breasts, and the wild tangle of hair curtaining her moans. Her hands braced against his shoulders, and she let him set the pace.

Frantic to find his release, he felt it building, but he didn’t want the encounter to end. How often did Kada let herself go like this? Her moans, and the slick slap of skin, were a moment in time. He envied her ability to capture memories and recreate them on paper. Given a thousand years, he could try to describe this moment, and nothing he could say would describe the feel of being with her.

“Now.” She gasped and raised her head. “Don’t stop now.”

“I know.” His mouth covered hers, and she shuddered in his arms. They could have been in a five-star hotel or a king-sized bed. His release had nothing to do with location and everything to do with her, but he couldn’t hold back any longer. He groaned at the same time she tore away from his lips and bit his shoulder.

Pulling her arms to her chest, she dropped her head where her teeth left a mark and leaned against him.

Maybe he would get the love bite tattooed. He smiled. His body had no bones, but he held it together while his breath came in measured exhalations and his muscles knitted themselves back together. Had he lost his mind making love to a woman in a laundry room? Dropping back his head, he stared at the ceiling tiles and grinned. He would gladly lose it again in her arms.

She braced a hand against his shoulder, stood, and slipped off him.

Seeing her turn, he caught her hand and tugged. “Kada?”

She paused and looked over her shoulder.

“This isn’t my normal thing.”

“Oh yeah?”

Nearly sprawled in a metal chair, spent, and smelling worse for wear, he didn’t have a lot to recommend him, but she had ponied up for the ride. He released her hand and smiled. “Thanks for being extraordinary.”

“You’re…”

“Ridiculous?” His ego could stand a few letdowns. “An asshole?”

She smiled. “Cute.”

He lunged forward and tugged her back onto his lap. She landed with a soft, satisfying smack. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “I can work with cute. Give me ten minutes.”

“Absolutely not.” She danced out of his arms and gathered her clothes. “I was about ready to skip town and do great things, but you showed up looking like a muscled muse. Where have you been for the last several months?”

He ran a hand through his hair, stood, and put himself back together. Two could play at this game. “Where have you been?”

“Managing laundry services, paying taxes, and settling staff disputes!” She planted her hands on her hips. “I run a business!”

He laughed, but he had a feeling the conversation would have been a lot easier if he could forget what she felt like when she came apart in his arms. He kept his hands pinned to his sides to avoid reaching toward her. She probably wanted to scratch an itch. “Trust me, I know the feeling.”

The washing machine lurched across the floor and started a spin cycle.

A car horn honked.

Laughter floated on the wind.

She looked out the window and frowned. “Who else laughs like Mom?”

A stolen moment of pleasure held the world at bay, but reality rushed in. He ran a hand through his hair. “More guests? I should probably go.”

“The reservation system said all guests had checked in.” She turned an ear toward the laughter and shook her head. “Dad’s too predictable. Maybe someone drove by and needed a place to stay.”

“Right after the holidays? Also, I did a number on your hair.” The next time he stole a kiss, he would have a multipart plan and a better setup. Doing his best to pat down her hair, he realized his efforts were making things worse and hoped the new guests spent more time admiring the décor than her hair.

She batted away his hands. “I run a motor motel.”

He shoved them in his pockets. “This is not the 1950s. People have cell phones and GPS systems.”

“You’re right. They should have called.” Scooting past him, she shoved the condoms back into the box and tossed it into the toiletry bin. “Geez I hope I’m wrong.”

“Wrong? You don’t like guests?” he asked.

She spun away from the window and blinked. “Of course, I like guests. They need a place to lay their heads, and I need to make a profit. During the holidays, nobody’s a stranger.”

Fixing his shirt, he cleared his throat. “Right. And the innkeeper never sleeps.”

She stilled his hand.

He doubted he was about to get another kiss.

“Love, goodwill, and brotherhood are the true meaning of the holidays. Without them, we’re all lost. And if you ever want to see me naked again, you’ll stop dumping on the holidays.”

He barked out a laugh. “Not even a little…”

She zipped her lips. “I know you don’t like the holidays, but give the season another chance. Humans aren’t meant to weather darkness alone. We paint. We sing songs. We…”

“Erect things.” He raised an eyebrow.

She glared. “Don’t fall back on sex to avoid intimacy.”

Pissing off a beautiful woman was the last thing he wanted to do. He nabbed her hand. “I face life head-on. You can’t run this place without recognizing the mechanics behind the curtains. You want intimacy? Let me take you out for a real date.”

She opened her mouth and stared.

“In the meantime, I’m holding my ground. The holidays are nothing but commercial ruses to shake people out of their winter doldrums, empty their wallets, and round up every family’s black sheep.”

She gathered her hair into a messy bun and shoved a branded pencil through the tresses. “Is that how they captured you?”

He rolled his eyes. “I mean, look, I still think people behave badly during most of the year, but they try to behave for Christmas. They’re good people. I get it. But your motel guests?”

“Are lovely.” She crossed her arms and raised her chin.

He jerked his head toward the brightly lit buildings. “They bring you all their complaints. The food’s too bland, the laundry doesn’t work, and the family squatting in the parking lot wants to delouse their traveling caravan.”

“Wait, Mack and Sue’s kids have lice?” She widened her gaze.

“I was speaking metaphorically!” He rubbed a hand over his face. “The kids look fine. Not a scratching finger in sight.”

“Whew.” She shivered. “It happens, but at this stage in the game, I don’t need that level of deep cleaning.”

“I know. You need fewer problems, not more of them.” Looking past her shoulder, he focused on the bare bulbs surrounding the pink neon sign. If every driver for twenty miles could see the signs, why couldn’t he? He turned. “Can we go back to the kissing and the fondling?”

“Hilarious!” She ran a hand over her face. “Just”—she exhaled—“ha.”

“Ha?” He mimicked her empty, breathy exhalation, but the gesture sounded as empty as the metal chair scraping along the concrete floor. Tonight wasn’t the night to get to know Kada Ritchie. Sure, he whetted his thirst with her stellar kiss, but if he hung around too long, he would turn into a nuisance…or an unwanted guest. Shaking off the possibilities, he looked away from the window and inclined his head toward the beautiful, competent woman who had a job to do. “You’d better go and attend to your guests.”

“Yeah,” she said. “The motel won’t run itself.”

He stole a quick kiss, turned her, and tapped her butt into gear. “Scat so I can go home and tell my mother how much I love the smell of stewed cabbage.”

Laughing and letting her hips swing, she sauntered out the door.

The washer rattled.

Scooting it back into position, he glared at it and closed the storeroom door. Sleep would evade him for weeks while he thought of Kada, and he had nobody to blame but himself. Delivering a date cake was one thing. If Smoky hadn’t gone lame…

“Mom! You weren’t due until tomorrow!”

Kada’s cry of delight bounced off the casita walls. Looking up from the desert pavers, he watched her launch herself into an older woman’s arms. The pair grinned, and their smiles shone brighter than the swaying patio lights. Staying back, he leaned against an adobe wall and watched Kada and Mrs. Ritchie greet each other. The pair did the hug-shake mother-daughter thing he never understood. In twenty years, Kada would be just as beautiful as her mother. She soaked up her mother’s presence like a drought-stricken plant. He envied their connection. His mother gripped him hard, examined him, and spun him back into the world to do good work.

“Just look at you, runnin’ around the desert like Pops.” Ms. Ritchie gripped Kada’s long, black hair and rubbed it between her fingers. “If I hadn’t seen you for myself, I wouldn’t have believed it. I thought you would stay in Los Angeles, but here you are, the queen of the desert!”

He cocked his head and imagined Kada tearing into a sourdough loaf over drip coffee. She would look at home on the winding streets wearing a wrap-tie dress, but he preferred her stained jeans.

“I thought I would stay in Los Angeles, too, but you needed me.” Reaching to the side, Kada shifted into her father’s arms.

Lean by most standards, he sported the small belly that developed from a desk-bound lifestyle.

“Hi, Daddy.”

He kissed her forehead. “Princess. Good to see you.”

Easing off the wall, Dane figured he could slip back into the cantina, take his salad to go, and sink into one of Walter’s tales. The old cowboy had plenty of stories about what went wrong when a man took his gaze off the land.

“Mom, meet my friend, Dane Palmer,” Kada said.

He looked up and blinked away his surprise. Unless his father had ambled down the hill and presented himself on cue, he was the only Dane Palmer within a quarter mile of the Starlight Motel. Her friend, huh? What other rights do I have? Straightening his shoulders, he forced a smile, walked forward, and extended a hand toward Kada’s parents. “Pleasure to meet you. Dane Palmer.”

Mr. Ritchie took his hand. “Are you a guest?”

Swatting her husband’s chest, Mrs. Ritchie shook her head. “No, Bobby, that’s Mariah’s oldest boy.”

Dane nodded. “I live next door. My family runs Palmer Farms.” Business taglines bubbled to his lips, but he suppressed the urge. “Mom seems to have adopted Kada. She sent me down here with a belated Christmas present”—he smiled—“and a few Medjool dates.”

“Bobby Ritchie,” he said. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Larissa.” Kada’s mother nudged her husband out of the way and gripped Dane’s hand with both of her hands. “How sweet of you to stick around.”

He met Kada’s gaze and worked his jaw. He had no idea how much information she wanted to share. As far as Larissa and Bobby Ritchie were concerned, life at the Starlight Motel was going swimmingly. As long as nobody mentioned Smoky drinking from the pool, Lucky’s impending delivery, or the bevy of guests with issues only Kada could resolve, life at the motel looked perfect. Understanding a person’s desire to impress their parents, he grinned. “I do what I can.”

“Oh, Dane’s being modest. He”—Kada covered a yawn—“what are you still doing here?”

If she wanted to give him an out, she couldn’t look cuter. He laughed at how wildly their interactions swung. He could act like a friendly neighbor, but he wanted her to remember their kiss. “I’m picking up my dinner and heading home with Walter.” He glanced at her lips. “Kiss me good-bye?”

She blushed.

If a few knowing looks from Mom kept him in Kada’s mind, then he would take the risk. Instead of forcing her hand, he dropped his head, skimmed his rough cheek along her jawline, and pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek. “I’ll call you.”

She gripped his shirt and released it within a heartbeat.

He wondered if he imagined the impulse.

“Not so fast,” Bobby said.

He turned and raised an eyebrow.

“We haven’t eaten yet, either. Why don’t you join us?” Bobby gestured toward the main building. “I’d love to hear about life in the Coachella Valley. After Hall’s funeral, I wanted to stay, but Larissa couldn’t wait to get away.”

“When have you liked the desert?” Larissa asked.

Bobby scrunched his nose. “It has its charms.”

“Apparently, it does.” Larissa glanced at Dane, elbowed her husband, and linked arms with Kada. “Let’s find a table.”

Left standing next to Bobby, he cocked his head and watched the pair depart. They had the same gait and skirted lush shrubs like they knew every rock and planter by heart. He wondered whether the palm trees overheard the details of his laundry room tryst.

“You dating my daughter?” Bobby asked.

“Not technically.” He cleared his throat. “I met her earlier this evening.”

“Yeah. I met Larissa at a gas station, and we eloped the next day.”

Bobby’s comment landed like a gut punch. He pivoted and held up his hand. “Whoa, not so fast.”

Bobby laughed and slapped his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Kada has more sense than her mother. Also, I’m much more handsome. Larissa said I looked like Sylvester Stallone, but that was decades ago. My students barely know the name. Larissa promises I’m quite the silver fox.” He winked. “And I don’t think she’s talking about an endangered species.”

“Wait, they say that to your face?”

“God, no!” Bobby rolled his eyes. “You have to read the class reviews to know if you’re staying relevant. If hip shoes help the kids feel more confident in my classroom, I’m fine with geezer chic.” He jerked his head toward the cantina. “You want to stand here all night?”

He walked a step behind Bobby and picked out the strong features Kada inherited from her father. She had his nose. A strong widow’s peak shaped both their foreheads, but Kada’s long, dark hair came straight from Larissa and Hall’s lineage. “Did Kada know you were arriving tonight?”

“Oh, no way. We thought we would surprise her. Ever since Los Angeles, she’s been tight-lipped and reclusive. ‘Everything’s fine. The motel’s fine. I’m fine.’ ” He looked over his shoulder and pantomimed Kada’s bright smile. “She inherits her stubbornness from her mother.”

Larissa stopped in her tracks. “We can hear you!”

Bobby walked straight into her, shook off the collision, and kissed her cheek. “Yes, mi amor .”

Larissa gently pushed him away. “How is your Spanish accent still so terrible?”

Laughing, Bobby linked hands with his wife. “I’m open to more lessons.”

She smiled. “You’re impossible.”

Dane glanced at Kada. She watched her parents with the indulgent smile that children reserved for well-behaved parents. Her ease might fool him, but Bobby’s offhand comment made him wonder what happened in Los Angeles. Without an explanation for her tight-lipped restraint, he was liable to ruin his future dinner plans by putting his foot in his mouth or saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. She wouldn’t let his mistakes slide, either. She faced conflict head-on, and her fearlessness fascinated him.

She caught him staring and raised her eyebrows.

Before he claimed her time, he needed intelligence. Smoky had food and water in the trailer, and he was old enough to have a bit of patience. Before he left the motel, he would do his best to find out what happened in Los Angeles and left Kada so tight-lipped about her art. “Dinner sounds good. I seem to have worked up an appetite.”

She blushed.

Walking past Bobby and Larissa, he dropped his head. “Admittedly, you did most of the work, but your secret’s safe with me.”

She touched her cheek where he kissed her. “Is it?”

Dropping every pretense, he nodded. “Yes.”