“Now that I’m inside, I love it more, especially since I know he worked to renovate it himself.”
Axel closed and locked the front door, threw the deadbolt and put the chain in place right before testing the door handle as if to confirm it was secure.
“Should I be afraid that you just bolted us in here?”
“Um. No,” he said unconvincingly, adding quickly, “Do you want something to drink? Or better yet, something to eat? I could probably rustle something up that’s edible.” He started down the hallway to the kitchen.
“No. I’m okay. I’ll just wait for Diesel.”
He motioned for her to follow him. “Well, I’ll at least brew some coffee for us.”
“You’re staying?”
Axel stopped in his tracks. “I can’t leave you alone.”
“Why? Because of some fruit threat? Maybe I shouldn’t have told you about that.”
He opened his mouth to answer, but just then someone tried to open the front door, rattling the handle rather violently. Axel took a step toward the noise, but a buzzing sound stopped him. He plucked a small device off his belt. Before he even looked at it, whoever was at the door started rattling the handle again even harder. A large thump hit the door, like someone had thrown their shoulder against the outside surface trying to break it down. The heavy door practically shook in the doorframe from the abuse.
Axel ignored the buzzing and then subsequent ringing on his belt, marching toward the door. Juliana hoped it wasn’t the fruit-wasting menace, chewing on the single bite they’d just taken out of an apple ready to hurl it at her once the door opened.
Axel put his hand on the door and then removed it. The pounding increased. He backed away another step, turned and glanced over his shoulder at her, a worried expression etched in his features.
“Are you going to answer it?” she asked, hoping he wasn’t going to.
“I don’t think I should.”
Chapter Fourteen
Diesel was fast losing his patience with this pretentious man from the Royal Caldera Cruise Line. “You already asked me that question, sir, and I answered. Twice.” The quick fifteen-minute inspection tour he’d hoped for had already stretched to almost twice that time. Time he’d rather be spending with Juliana.
“Oh, yes. Indeed. Quite right, quite right.” Inspector Centauri studied his electronic clipboard once more as if searching for more foolish questions to ask. The man had started repeating some of his questions a second and third time as if trying to see if Diesel was paying attention.
Diesel checked his watch about every ten seconds as the inspector asked him a rash of inane questions. Each and every one—while relevant to the business he wanted to engage in with this man—made his teeth ache because he wanted to be with Juliana, on their date, in his house, kissing.
“We’ve looked at every part of the truck stop that your guests would see unless they have special permission to tour outside the truck stop area and require a guide, which will be set up in advance or they won’t go.”
“Yes, yes. Understood. We might have an eccentric client every so often. However, the majority of our clientele would never consider this backwater planet for anything more than a quaint way station stop during their holiday. You don’t have to worry about any exploration.”
Diesel wasn’t about to go out of his way to regale this pompous, arrogant man with information about how lovely Arkansas was or that this backwater planet had the tallest trees he’d ever seen. He also failed to share that each season had different temperatures and weather patterns that many Alphas who came here found charming and interesting. The inspector could suck it.
“Is that all, then? Do you have everything you need to complete your surprise inspection of our truck stop for future business here?”
They were in the northern basement section outside the area designated for travelers. It featured a variety of places to eat and lounge and rest as visitors watched human television, which many found fascinating as a pastime. There was also a wing filled with small rooms where clientele could sleep or rest in a quiet, private place away from the noise of the eating establishments.
“How many can you accommodate again?”
“Five hundred,” Diesel said for the fourth time. “Maybe you should write it down this time.”
“Yes, yes. How long could we count on the services below stairs in cases of a scheduling delay or engine issues?”
Diesel opened his mouth to answer for the third time, but stopped. He crossed his arms and stared at the man. “Are you purposely trying to make this take longer than it needs to?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You’ve seen everything. Some places twice. And your questions are starting to get repetitious. Meanwhile, I have somewhere else to be.”
Inspector Centauri straightened and cleared his throat loudly. “Are you abandoning me?”
