It’s a big city. The odds that he’s from the same place my quarry was last seen are small. Still…
I run my fingertips through the condensation on my glass of tea and glance away, trying to hide what the mention of the city is doing to my insides. The food I just ate is making a slow roll within my stomach and threatening to come back up altogether.
Lifting the glass, I take a sip to swallow down the lump in my throat.
“New Orleans. That’s actually where I’m headed.” My voice comes out scratchy, and I curse myself when Shiloh sends me a curious look.
“Oh, yeah? Sightseeing?”
“No. It was just… time for a change. So, what do you do for a living?”
“This and that. What do you do?”
“This and that,” I shoot back. He stares and after a few seconds and three French fries, I relent. “I’m an EMT.”
His eyes narrow, like he can’t quite figure me out. “Huh. What are you doing down in these parts?”
My phone rings, saving me from coming up with an excuse. “Hello?”
“Miz McEntire? This here’s Murray with Murray’s Garage and Tow. I’ve got your Explorer and wanted to call and give you an update.”
“Oh, thank you. How bad is it?”
“Not too terrible, actually. You have a belt that needs replacing, and since it’s American I’m able to get one pretty quick. I can have her up and running for you by midday, tomorrow.”
“That would be amazing. What’s the damage going to be?”
“As long as I don’t stumble on anything else, I can keep it to four-seventy.”
I close my eyes briefly, then open them.
Ugh. My money is going to run out fast at this rate.
Shiloh watches me closely. The man rarely takes his eyes off me, I’ve noticed.
“All right,” I say. “Thank you very much. Just call me when it’s ready, and I’ll figure out my way to you.”
“Yes, ma’am. You have a good night, you hear.”
We hang up and I raise my arms above my head in a stretch, rolling my neck. Shiloh follows the movement,his eyes tracking the lift of my breasts in my tank. He runs a fingertip along the fleshy lower line of his full bottom lip, saying nothing.
“Good news, bad news,” I offer as I lower my arms and set them back on the table, my voice husky.
“I gathered,” he says.
“I guess I should go check in at that hotel across the street. Get a shower. Maybe take a nap or something.”
I should.
But I don’t want to.
I’m choosy about who I sleep with—at the ripe old age of twenty-two I’ve had exactly three lovers—but there’s something about Shiloh…something in his laid-back confidence and his intent, hooded gaze, that tells me he’s not one I’m likely to forget any time soon.
I need that. Something to make me forget, just for a little while.
Picking up a discarded straw paper, I shred it into tiny pieces, wondering if I should just say what I want.
He leans forward on the table, the gesture making his biceps pop intriguingly. “Why don’t you do that? And then, if you like, later I’ll come pick you up and we can head out for dinner…maybe some dancing and a drink or two.” Reaching across the table, he draws patterns on the skin of my hand, making it go still on the straw paper. “And then…”
