“Yeah. It scares me, too.” Her fingers played with the edge of her seatbelt. Like she needed to occupy them to avoid reaching for me. “I don’t know what I’d do if the roles were reversed and I’d been asked to choose my career over you. That principal spotis all I’ve ever wanted.” She paused for a beat, and then her tone filled with resignation. “But we don’t know how much time we have, and I don’t want to waste it being mad at you. That’s why I’ve spent the last hour rationalizing a way to kiss you again.”
Well, fuck me.
I placed my hand on top of hers, and air left her in a slow, appreciative sweep. Like she’d been as desperate for my touch as I was for hers.
This time, the silence that fell over us wasn’t uncomfortable. It was full of warmth and connection. But with the tension gone and the gentle rock of the car as we drove along, her eyes grew heavy with exhaustion.
“You should get some sleep,” I said.
“What about you?”
“I’m fine.” It wasn’t a lie. I was tired as shit, but I could make it to the cabin first.
Well, probably.
She shook her head. “I stay awake as long as you are. It’d be rude for me to sleep when you can’t.”
“Rude? After everything you’ve been through, you’re worried about manners?”
She ignored my question. “Why was Bill suddenly okay with you getting on the helicopter with me?”
I gave her the details he’d shared with me, explaining how serious the situation was. What my boss had done, letting me disappear with a witness, was so against the rules it only reinforced my belief there’d been no other way.
“What he probably did,” I said, “was tell everyone you’ve refused protective services and that I’ve been put on leave. Some will buy the story, and some won’t, but it might help expose the mole.”
I didn’t tell her what Bill had said about her sister. There wasn’t enough information, and nothing could be done right now, so I’d save that conversation for later.
At least until she’d gotten a decent night’s sleep and was better equipped to handle it.
Fuck me. Thinking about sleep was a mistake.
I only made it another twenty minutes before I eased the car behind a run-down commercial building that looked like it had been for sale for the last decade. I’d kept us on rural roads, and this place was in the middle of nowhere, so it wasn’t surprising the owners hadn’t been able to find a buyer.
I drove around to the back of the building and parked in its shadow.
“What are we doing?” she asked.
“I’ve got to get some sleep, an hour or so. You should, too.”
I reclined my seat as far as it would go, but Laurel stayed upright. She glanced out the windows like she felt exposed.
“We’ll be safe here,” I said.
She finally followed my lead, pulled the lever on her seat, and reclined. She seemed tense as she stared up at the ceiling liner which was starting to sag in spots.
“What’s wrong?”
She turned to lie on her side and look at me. “My mind won’t let me sleep. Do you want me to drive?”
We were both running on fumes. “You don’t know where to go, and you’ll fall asleep at the wheel.” I didn’t mean for it to sound like an order, but it came out that way. “I want you to sleep.”
“I’m not trying to be difficult, but I’m telling you, that’s not going to happen.”
I softened, understanding. “What do you need?”
“For my brain to shut up,” she said. “I don’t know, tell me it isn’t my fault again.”
Her request hit me hard, and my voice turned serious. “It’s not. Laurel, none of this is your fault.”
