“Kim’s out of commission right now. He’ll do it in the morning.”
“We can pay him to do it sooner,” Jia chimed in. “We’d really like to head back home tonight.”
The local stuck a toothpick in his mouth. “Impossible. Kim’s my dad. He’s the firefighter and the mechanic and the auto club around here, and he’s already had a few too many to be safely operating the tow truck.”
This man’s father was the jack-of-all-trades of this teeny town? This good Samaritan looked almost seventy. How old was his parent? “We weren’t really planning on staying the night. Can you get us out?” Dev asked.
The man looked offended. “And take business from my own father? No, no one in this town’s going to do that.” He nodded at the opera house. “You guys look like you have stuff to do. It’ll take you at least an hour or two to take photos of all the art. You’ll be fine.”
“But we need to—”
“Why don’t you take a walk down to the bar and see if Jenny has any rooms for you for the night? I’ll get my dad up early tomorrow, and he’ll have the car waiting for you at the inn first thing.” The man rolled up his window before Dev could keep talking, and he drove away.
“This might sound like a conspiracy theory,” Jia remarked. “But what if there’s no big warning sign on the beach because stranded tourists is kind of how these folks make some of their money in the off-season?”
“Is there an on-season?”
“When the artists are here. There’s a festival in April.”
“I bet that’s a sight to see,” he murmured. His brain was clicking along too fast, pondering what it would mean, he and Jia spending the night here. In this town. With perhaps nothing more than a thin wall separating them.
Luna would be fine. She wasn’t going to be home until at least one tomorrow, maybe later if he knew how much his niece loved to sleep in. The problem wasn’t logistics; it was an overnight trip with a woman he was interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with.
He attempted to think of how to fix this. “I can try to get a private car.”
“For a rescue mission? And what will happen to your rental, who’s going to come back for that?” She chuckled. “The guy’s right, Dev. It’s not that big a deal.”
“Are you okay with this?”
“Sure.” She hesitated. “Are you?”
He scratched his head. “We’re not married or engaged. It’s improper for us to spend the night together.”
Her cheeks flushed red, and he played back his words. Oh yikes. What had he just said? “I mean, in such a remote place. People will think this is some kind of—” He cut himself off.
Jia gave him a wary look. “Some kind of what?”
“Something . . . improper,” he repeated, because some kind of romantic rendezvous was stressful.
“Uh-huh. Except . . .” She glanced left, then right. “No one knows we’re here together. I don’t see any tabloid reporters, and I doubt there’s going to be any lurking in a town where there’s only one firefighter and one mechanic and they’re the same person.”
“I suppose that’s true.” These were abnormal circumstances. She was right. No one knew about this and no one needed to know. As soon as they found service, he’d text Adil Uncle that he’d gone for a drive and had car trouble and that he’d be back as soon as possible, on the very slim chance that something came up with Luna at her sleepover. “I mean, it is true.”
“Good. Now let’s check out this hotel, and get a couple rooms for the night.”
Chapter Fifteen
“SORRY, WE only have one room left.”
Jia should have expected that one. One room left at the inn in a ghost town, why . . . that was exactly how her luck was shaping up.
The bar was on the first floor of the hotel. The place was only two stories, a half-dozen rooms max. It was completely empty, save for her, Dev, and the bartender slash hotel clerk. Who on earth was occupying these rooms? “One room,” Dev repeated.
The woman snapped her gum. Her skin was as weathered as the mechanic’s son they’d met a mile away. Jia hoped they were wearing sunscreen in this desert sun. “Pest control guy is doing routine treatments in our other rooms. We only got the one free.”
Jia rubbed the bridge of her nose. Dev had gone ramrod straight next to her. His brain was probably breaking at the impropriety of them sharing a room.
But this wasn’t the worst thing ever. She trusted Dev in a way she’d never trusted any other guy. He wouldn’t so much as touch her. He’d accepted her body against his on the beach while he’d been having his attack, but as soon as he’d come back to himself, he’d gently rebuffed her.
It’s because he doesn’t want to touch you. You’re fine to pal around with, but he has no romantic interest in you. You’re too much.
She’d tried not to take it too personally. She’d never had a panic attack herself, but between Sadia and Katrina, she’d been around for a few of them. She understood anxiety and the pressure it could place on the human brain. Or in Dev’s case, what appeared to be hugely unresolved grief.
She’d wanted to crawl into his lap and wrap herself around him like a vine until it passed. And then after, too, when he’d looked so embarrassed. Only the fact that she knew it would horrify him had kept her touch somewhat platonic.
“Are there two beds?” she said, taking initiative since Dev seemed to have lost his ability to speak.
“It’s a suite. There’s a queen-size bed and a foldout couch.” The woman snapped her gum again. Her name tag said Jenny. Jenny seemed remarkably unbothered over whether they took a room or not, though Jia imagined it must be hard to get business out here. “It’s cozy,” Jenny added.
That was code for small. Jia glanced around. That would track with the rest of this place. It was dark, from the dim lighting to the dark wood. Signed dollar bills were tacked all over the walls and ceiling.
“Say, do I know you?” Jenny suddenly asked. She leaned closer, scrutinizing Dev.
Oops. Jia may have been wrong. There might be some foreign film fans in this place after all. That would teach her not to stereotype.
“I don’t think so,” Dev said politely.
“Oh, you’re British,” Jenny said, and about twenty years seemed to melt off her as she leaned against the counter and batted her lashes. “We don’t get many British people here.”
“I’m not—”
There was little need for Dev to clarify, not when clarification might lead to Jenny remembering where she’d seen him. “We’ll take the room.” Jia rummaged in her purse to get her license and credit card, but Dev chose that second to launch into action.
He gently nudged her aside, and took out two crisp fifty-dollar bills from his wallet. Smart, not to give their names. “Will this suffice?”
“Yup.” The mystery of Dev’s nationality forgotten, Jenny snatched up the money. “Breakfast is served down here in the morning until ten. I recommend the patty melt.”
“For breakfast?” Jia asked.