“It’s not stupid.” And I mean it. “We’re doing all of it.” Staring down at her, I frown. “Except maybe the murder motels. What the hell is a murder motel?”
She gasps, clutching her snow globe to her chest. “A murder motel is a place where you know a murder has or could take place and no one would question it. But what do you mean, we’re doing all of it?”
“No to the murder motel. That’s never going to happen. Everything else on your list, though? We’ve got two days of driving, then two days back. We’re checking shit off that list of yours.”
“Valen.” She’s panicking, but not out of fear for her safety. This is awhat have I gotten myself into?kind of panic. “We have a plan. We don’t have time for?—”
“We have nothing but time. Roman’s securing the property, and we’re not expected until the day after tomorrow. And you—” I touch her chin. I shouldn’t, but I do, tilting her face up until her gaze is locked on mine. “I may not remember who you were, but I like who you are, and you deserve to actually live for once.”
When she blinks, her lashes come away wet. “Valen, I—I don’t know if I can do this. My lists, they’re like little girl daydreams. Going on this road trip is anxiety-inducing enough.”
Wrecks, sensing distress, drops the boulder he’s attempting to swallow and presses his big body into her side.
“What if we simply try?”
Movement over her shoulder catches my attention, but it’s not a threat—it’s Chief with his hands full of junk food.
But when I look at Clover again, she’s gone pale. “Clover? What is it?”
“Th-that guy.” She’s gasping for breath. “He’s staring at me. What if he’s my stalker?”
I tug her into my chest while I scan for the threat. I make eye contact with Chief, who’s read the situation correctly and is alsoon alert, but the only person I can see is a twenty-year-old with too much confidence and not enough self-preservation.
“Sweetheart, the only threat is to his junk if he doesn’t stop staring at you like you’re his next conquest. He isn’t looking to hurt you, Honeybee. He’s looking to fuck you.”
She gasps and buries her face deeper into my chest.
“That punk?” Chief chuckles. “Yeah, the only threat he carries is having crabs.”
Chief’s inappropriate observation makes Clover laugh, so I let it go.
“You’re sure?” she whispers.
“Positive, Honeybee. You’re safe with me, always. Not everyone is out to hurt you. Mostly, people are good.”
“Sorry, I’m…paranoid.”
“It’s understandable.” I glare at the prick at pump number five.
“I’m good,” she says while detangling her fingers from my shirt.
I miss the pressure of her palms on me.
“Good,” I say. “Now, get in the RV. We have a karaoke bar to find.”
Happiness bursts from her like rays of pure sunshine, and as she climbs the steps into the RV, I get another message from Chase.
Chase: Dude! Sterling hasn’t slept in days. He’s been running facial recognition software since he arrived in Happiness on anyone who has come within 100 feet of Clover’s house in the last thirty days.
Chase: Grant had to physically remove his laptop at three a.m., and he lost his shit because he hasn’t found anything.
Chase: We’re all worried, V. Not just about her. About you too. Remember that.
These men—my family—have spent their adult lives trying to protect me from a past I can’t remember. And now, they’re extending that same fierce love to a woman they barely know, simply because she’s someone who matters to me.
By evening,we’ve seen the world’s largest rocking chair, a giant peach shaped like butt cheeks, and more sombreros than I know what to do with due to a souvenir run at South of the Border just before we crossed into North Carolina. But it’s the small independent bookstore in the town we stop in for dinner that lights her up from the inside out.
Before we go in, I do a sweep of the street. A man sits in a parked car across the road, his face buried in his phone. I track him until he gets out and walks into the barbershop next door. Since Sterling has promised he’s seen no evidence of anyone following us on the CTV cameras, I turn back to Clover.
