His body was still pulsing with need, his blood still running hot and electric with the memory of her lips on his. It was all he could do to stay focused on the endless ribbon of roadway when everything male in him was laser-trained on the woman seated just barely out of reach behind him.
“Can’t say we see a lot of your kind up this way,” the trucker said, one of few attempts at smalltalk he’d made since they got into the cab. “You got somewhere in particular you’re headed?”
“No.” Razor grunted the reply without elaborating.
As innocuous as the old man seemed, the less anyone knew about their movements, the better. Either way, the trucker would be getting a quick mind-scrub as a bonus as soon as he dropped them off.
Razor did have someplace particular in mind, in fact. He wasn’t sure he’d be welcomed with open arms, especially considering he’d be arriving with a Breedmate female in tow and an apparent target on both their backs. Hell, he shouldn’t even consider dragging his problems to someone else’s door, but it wasn’t as if he had a lot of other options.
If was only his neck on the line he’d take his chances elsewhere, but not when it came to Willow.
Hopefully, his brother would understand.
Razor stared out the windshield with his jaw set. If Knox wouldn’t give them shelter, there might not be any other choice than to reach out to the Order for help he wasn’t sure he’d get after the mess he left for them at St. Anne’s.
Up ahead about a half mile a wooden sign came into view, its hand painted lettering illuminated by the truck’s headlights:Welcome to Parrish Falls.
“You can drop us at the corner up there,” Razor instructed the old man.
The trucker nodded, slowing his rig on the empty road as they neared the center of what purported itself to be a town but seemed like little more than a quiet crossroad and a tiny diner.
Despite the late hour, the lights were on inside the small eatery. The golden glow pierced the darkness like a cheery little beacon amid the vastness of the wooded landscape that crowded in from all directions.
Razor glanced behind him at Willow. “You hungry?”
Although she looked wary of the abrupt pit stop in the middle of nowhere, she nodded without asking all the questions that lurked in her eyes. She trusted him completely; that much was clear. He just hoped to hell her faith wasn’t misplaced.
The trucker braked to a smooth stop and put the vehicle in park. “You’re not gonna find another ride out of here until tomorrow,” the old man advised while Razor helped Willow climb out of the passenger side of the cab. “For the right price, I’d be willing to take you folks clear on to Millinocket where you can catch the Interstate.”
“Here is good enough,” Razor said. Once Willow was outside, he stepped back up into the truck. “Almost forgot something.”
The trucker frowned. “What’s tha—?”
Razor placed his hand on the human’s furrowed brow, trancing him. “You never saw us. In a minute you’re going to drive on to wherever you’re heading and forget tonight ever happened.”
He would have preferred to mind scrub the border station attendant too, but at least that loose end didn’t know where he and Willow had ended up. He jumped back down to the road beside Willow.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s cross the road before he comes out of his trance. He’ll assume he just pulled over for a quick doze before continuing on his way.”
Taking her hand in his, he led her across the gravel two-lane. “What are we doing here, Razor?”
“With any luck, getting you a warm meal.”
The sign on the entrance had been flipped toClosedbut the door was still unlocked. Razor pushed it open, the bell overhead jingling as he and Willow stepped inside.
“We closed ten minutes ago,” an amicable female voice called out from somewhere inside. “If you want coffee for the road, go ahead and have a seat. I’ll brew a fresh pot.”
Razor motioned Willow to sit down at the counter but he remained standing as the woman who invited them in came back through the swinging doors from the kitchen.
She held an empty ceramic coffee cup in one hand and a glass coffee carafe in the other. Her pretty face and warm hazel eyes matched the welcoming tone of her voice. Her dark hair was swept up into a messy bun at her nape and she wore a loose, thick-knit sweater over a girly floral skirt that fell just shy of her shearling-lined ankle boots.
Most notably, her belly was round and very heavy with child.
“You must be Leni,” Razor said, offering her a fond smile.
He’d never met his brother’s Breedmate in person, but they’d spoken on the phone once, more than six months ago now when Knox and Leni had run into trouble of their own. Razor had been in touch on and off with Knox in the time since, but nothing recent.
Lenora Calhoun stared at him for a moment. “Um . . . Razor? Where did you—”
