He grunted. “You’re just full of surprises.” He dropped the keys into her hand. “She’s all yours.”
Tory climbed in behind the wheel and adjusted the seat while Josh climbed in on the passenger side, and they strapped themselves in.
From the Bird’s Nest, Tory drove to a nearby Holiday Inn where Josh had made a reservation, getting the directions from Siri on his iPhone. As the truck cruised along the street, she shot him a sideways glance. He was leaning back in the seat watching her, amusement touching his lips.
“What?”
“I never thought a woman could look cute driving a truck.”
She laughed. “I don’t look cute. I look competent. Behave yourself.”
His smile broadened into a grin. “You know you don’t mean that.” He was flirting. He didn’t do it often. She really liked it.
She parked the pickup. They grabbed their overnight bags and went into the motel lobby, walked up to a young man in a white shirt and skinny black tie.
“May I help you?”
“Reservation for Joshua Cain.”
The clerk pulled it up on his computer. “Here it is. I’ll need a credit card.”
Josh fished his Visa out of his wallet and tossed it on the counter.
The clerk ran it and frowned. “I’m sorry, sir, the card was denied. Would you like to try another one?”
“There’s nothing wrong with the card. Try it again.”
The clerk tried it, looked embarrassed this time. “I’m sorry.”
Josh grumbled, took out his American Express. “No limit on this one.”
The clerk smiled and ran the card. The hand that held on to the credit card trembled. “Apparently, there’s a . . . umm . . . problem with this one, too. They’re instructing me to hold on to the card. I’m very sorry, sir. I don’t have any choice.”
“They’re telling you to keep my credit card? That’s crazy. It must be your machine.”
“I don’t think so.”
Tory opened her wallet and took out her Mastercard. “Let’s see if this one works.” She had paid it off months ago, been afraid to use it since. The billing address was a mailbox in Carlsbad and she’d kept it that way.
Josh snatched the card out of her hand. “No way.” He handed it back to her. “You’re not paying for the goddamn motel room.”
He returned his attention to the clerk, opened his wallet to take out a handful of bills. “It’s only for tonight. How much is it?”
“I’m afraid for security reasons, we don’t take cash.”
Tory could see Josh’s rising temper in the lines digging into his forehead. “Get your manager out here,” he said.
As if someone had pulled his string, the manager, a heavyset man with a mustache and double chins, appeared behind the counter. “Is there a problem?”
“Something’s wrong with your credit card machine. How much for a room?”
The manager turned to the computer screen. “A king-size, non-smoking is one hundred thirty-five dollars, plus taxes and fees. Comes to one fifty-seven and thirty-seven cents. We have a strict rule against taking cash, but—”
He looked Josh over, took in his clean-shaven face and short dark hair, the prime physical condition he was in and the way he carried himself. “Military?” the manager asked.
“Marines.”
“In your case, we can make an exception, and I thank you for your service.”
