Positive she saw more hands and feet than one person should sport, she stopped at the bedroom Tara crashed in when trying to avoid bringing fuck toys to her parents’ place.
“T.” Predictably, the whispered consonant elicited no response from the human waste pile. Gray cleared the gravel from her throat and tried again a little louder. “T.” Still nothing. “Tara.”
The smaller of the two lumps on the bed groaned. “What?”
“I’m heading out.”
“You havegotto be kidding me. Going where?”
“Don’t know.”
“Back?”
“Don’t know.”
“Fucking Jackson.” Tara sat up and flipped the sheets down, exposing the hunky upper torso of a man Gray vaguely remembered. “Ishegoing?”
“No.”
“Good.” Arms stretching over her head and flashing a little too much boob, Tara grinned. “Tell him if he doesn’t give you a break soon, I’ll be hunting him down and kicking his ass.”
“Right.” Gray grinned back. All of five foot nothing, Tara threatened to kick Jackson’s six-foot ass on the regular. She wasn’t his biggest fan, mostly because he was the cheating bastard who broke Gray’s heart days after her mother’s diagnosis.
“Do you need a ride to the airport?” Tara asked, yawning wide enough to crack her jaw. Always the first to put other people’s needs ahead of her own, she had to be the sweetest damn person on the planet. Gray didn’t deserve her, but man, was she grateful to have her.
“Nah, I’m good. Uber will be here any second.” She hitched her chin in the direction of the man on the bed. “So? Did Trevor rock your world?”
Without missing a beat, the drummer mumbled, “Name’s Travis, and yes, I did.”
Happy for Tara but forever cautious about her health, Gray arched a brow and offered her unsolicited wisdom. “Hope you used a condom.”
As if they planned it, Tara held up three fingers while Travis grunted, “Three.”
“Ew. Do me a favor, T.” Gray waved her finger in the general vicinity of where the nasty had happened. “Burn the sheets before you go.”
Her best friend’s satisfied smile was proof positive she wasn’t the least bit put off by Gray’s aversion to crusty linens. “Um, if you don’t mind, I was thinking of hanging here for a few days and…” Tara made an obscene gesture, hooked her thumb toward the hottie mcnaughty, and wagged her brows.
“I can hear you,” Travis growled, grabbing her around the waist and dragging her under the covers.
“I’ll be out by Monday,” Tara squealed. “Tuesday at the latest. Love you!”
“Love you more.” Gray scrunched her nose and nodded once. “But feel free to burn the mattress too.”
With a bump and a rattle,the 1964 Cessna Skyhawk held together as Chase landed the single-prop plane in Utah’s Glen Canyon National Recreation Area. A strip of asphalt in the middle of nowhere, the Bullfrog Basin Airport was isolated and unattended.
Perfect for staying off the radar.
Taxiing to the end of the short runway, he turned the plane into the empty parking area and initiated engine shutdown. The first of two stops to refuel before he reached a private landing strip near Seattle, he still had a long day of flying ahead of him.
Right on time, the small tanker truck he’d arranged for pulled in, and Chase signaled to the driver to come ahead as he exited the plane.
“Mr. Smith?” The driver hung his arm out the window, greeting Chase by his pseudonym.
“Yes, sir.” He reached up and clasped the older man’s palm. “Thanks for coming out, Mr. Gordon.”
“Call me Ron.” He hitched his thumb at the Cessna. “You need the full forty-two gallons?”
Chase nodded. “Yeah, I pretty much brought her down on fumes.”
