Roarke huffs out a laugh and his face morphs into a genuine smile. “I will, Mom. Bye.”
He clicks her off the line before she can finish saying goodbye.
“You don’t have to,” I say.
He turns to me with a questioning look.
“You don’t have to sleep at your mom’s,” I say, hardly believing the words that are coming out of my mouth myself.
“I promised you a hotel room to yourself and I don’t go back on my promises.”
His thumb presses the volume button on the steering wheel and the music volume raises. I guess that concludes our conversation. I sit there, staring at the tall trees and green landscape out the window wondering why I don’t want Roarke to be inconvenienced.
“Why don’t you want to spend the night at your mom’s?” I ask.
His jaw clenches. “She has a new boyfriend.”
From the dark mask that falls over his face, I decide to not ask anymore probing questions on that topic. Not like it’s my business anyway. After these last few favors are done, I’ll probably never speak to him again.
Funny thing is, even I don’t believe the lies I tell myself about the man beside me anymore.
Chapter Fourteen
It’s another hour before Roarke pulls off the highway. Other than me asking him if I could pick a song to mix up the rap and hip-hop we don’t talk about anything else. He obviously listens to this music a lot because he mouths the words to every damn song.
We pull up to a gas station and he unbuckles his seat belt. “I’ll make it quick.” His phone is gripped in his hands. “If you want to go to the bathroom or get a snack or anything, I’ll just be a minute.”
I nod, pulling my purse out from by my feet and exiting the Range Rover. “Anything you want?”
He shakes his head, his mind a million miles away. “No, thank you.”
I leave polite Roarke in the SUV and head inside following the sign to the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, I have a white plastic bag full of drinks, sanitizing wipes in case I have to venture into another gas station bathroom on our travels, and a few snacks for us before it dawns on me that Roarke might not want us to eat in his car.
I push open the door from the small gas station store and am met by a loud voice coming from inside Roarke’s SUV, only it’s not his. The phone is synced through the speakers of the car and I’m not sure he’s aware of how loud it is. I can hear every word his sister is saying and I’m not sure if I should interrupt or not.
“Roarke, you don’t understand. I know they were hers,” she says.
I can see that his forehead is pressed against the steering wheel like this conversation is taking all his energy to get through.
“Since when do you believe in happily ever afters?”
Another pause.
“Yes, I love him.”
“Trust? You and I both know there are few people you can trust in this world.”
“Who is this girl you’re bringing anyway?”
Only hearing the sister’s side of the conversation sucks. I really want to hear what his answer to that question was.
“You’re sleeping at Mom’s? What, is she a prude?” The disgust in her voice is obvious.
“Gentleman? I’d like to see what Olivia would say to you being a gentleman.”
I pretend I don’t care who Olivia is, but of course I log the name in the recesses of my mind for further examination later.
“You’re not my father.”
Roarke picks up his head and our eyes meet before I do anything other than stand there.
“You gotta go? What the hell?” his sister snips.
The line dies and he opens the SUV door and climbs out.
“Did you get what you need?” he asks, the keys twirling around his finger, stuffing his cell phone into his pocket.
“Yeah. Are you a licorice guy?” I hold up the bag nonplussed, pretending like I didn’t just overhear everything his sister said.
A smile tugs at his lips and maybe because I know what family shit is like to deal with, it pulls a smile from me.
“You thought of me?” he asks, approaching.
“I’m not rude.”
“I like it.” He takes my free hand, uncurling my fingers from my palm and places the keys into it. “I’ll be right back.”
He heads into the shop and I glance around at the few people filling their cars with gas. Since it’s nine o’clock at night, it’s pure darkness except for the gas station which is lit up like an alien UFO in the middle of the desert.
Bringing my gaze upward to the dark sky, my jaw slackens at the million or so bright, white stars on display. Other than the highway noise, it’s the crickets instead of horns honking and hustle and bustle of the city.
I’m not sure how long I stare in awe, taking in the pure serenity this small gas station parking lot has granted me, but when a hand touches mine, I jerk back.
“Relax.” Roarke’s voice calms my fight or flight response. “First time out of the city?” His tone is teasing and I let my gaze fall to him.
“It’s gorgeous. Do you miss it?” I ask.
His Adam’s apple bounces down and up. “No.”
He takes the keys from my hands and rounds the front of the Range Rover.
Once I’m back in the comfy leather seat next to him, he opens the sunroof screen so the sky is visible above us, puts the key in the ignition, and before I can think to ask a follow-up question we’re back on the highway.
I can’t help but wonder why he would bring me here, if he doesn’t want to be here himself.
Two hours later, we pull off the highway, right into a motel parking lot. Twenty white vans with the same landscaping business name are parked in the far side of the lot.
“This is where we’re staying?” I ask, eyeing the peeling paint on the doors and the grass growing up between cracks in the concrete.
He parks the SUV under the awning beside the sliding glass doors.
“I know it’s not The Drake but trust me when I say this is the best there is around here.”
“It’s fine.” I was brought up better than to make someone feel bad even if the circumstances are less than ideal. “Are the doors to the rooms on the outside?” I look across the parking lot to a line of doors on the first and second floor of the building.
“They are, but Woods Parlor doesn’t have a lot of crime unless you count domestic violence and public intoxication.”
I tighten my lips at his mention of two very different offenses. “So, I’m safe you mean?”
“I’ll get you settled and then go track down my sister. I’ll only be about twenty minutes away if you need me.”
Twenty minutes? He can’t save me if he’s twenty minutes away. I’ll already be raped, murdered or whatever by then.
“Okay.” I straighten my back, reminding myself, I’m a Crowley and I don’t need any type of savior. Thank goodness I have pepper spray though.
“I love when you act like you can take on the world.” He exits the car before I can reply.
It’s not usually an act, but it is right now.
I follow Roarke into the small lobby where he presses a little bell and we hear someone grumble from the room behind the front desk, and then a loud boom echoes in the small space.