door as quietly as she could, trying to step lightly on the stairs. At the bottom, she took off at a run, barely pausing to check for traffic before tearing across the road. There were only three cars left in the gravel parking lot: hers, a beaten-up pickup truck and a glossy black Camaro. His, of course, she thought bitterly.
Gasping for breath, Lina unlocked the driver’s door of her car and jumped in. She could see the motel in her rearview mirror. The door to their room remained closed. Either he was still in the bathroom, or he was relieved she was gone.
He was likely relieved.
When she pulled onto the road, gravel spit out from beneath her tires.
* * *
BRAN SAW THAT the room was empty the instant he opened the bathroom door. His first reaction was shock. Then he swore viciously. How could he be so freaking stupid as to leave his wallet and car keys out here?
Both were still there, at least, his badge beside them. Man, that would have been embarrassing if she’d taken it. Losing his driver’s license would be a royal pain, too. He flipped open the wallet, relieved at the sight of not only the driver’s license, but also his debit and two credit cards. A little cash was a small price to pay...
But it was there, too. He flipped through the bills, counted. Seemed about right. Had she not even picked up his wallet?
No, of course she hadn’t. She wasn’t that kind of woman. Of course she wasn’t.
Shit, he thought, she did regret the night. The best sex of his life, and she’d run from him, ashamed. And it was his own damn fault. He’d known she didn’t do things like this, that she was drunk and not thinking straight. What had he expected? That she’d be hanging around, wanting to flirt and talk about when they’d see each other again?
He’d find her...
Yeah, and how was he going to do that? Blonde woman, twenty-five to thirty-five years old, approximately five foot six. The tiny mole he’d seen on her shoulder? Only helpful for identification if she was found dead. For all he knew, she wasn’t even from around here. If she was? Alina wasn’t a common name...but he had no idea what her last name was, or what she drove. Where she worked, or what she did for a living.
He swore and leaped for the door, but wasn’t surprised to discover he was too late. His Camaro sat out in front of the tavern, alone except for a rusting pickup he couldn’t in a million years imagine her driving.
While he’d stood here counting bills, she’d made her getaway. Bran groaned and rubbed a hand over his face.
Maybe...she’d find him. If she’d even looked at his badge or opened his wallet, she had one up on him. She knew his last name and where he worked.
That was followed by the cold realization that if she didn’t come looking, it meant she didn’t want to be found, either.
And he had to honor that.
Pocketing the badge and wallet, he glanced down and saw the corner of a piece of paper sticking out from beneath the dresser. The maid could pick it up. Bran dropped a ten-dollar bill on the dresser, then walked out, feeling a couple decades older than he had a few days ago.
WITH ONLY A week to go until Christmas, Lina Jurick felt exceptionally unfestive. Her parents weren’t very happy that she wasn’t flying home for the holidays, but pretending to be joyous was beyond her.
It wasn’t like she was hiding anything from them. Well, not hiding very much anyway. Once she’d made the decision to carry the baby to term, she’d told them she was pregnant. The only part she’d refused to talk about was the identity of the father. She didn’t want to think about Bran “short for Brandon” Murphy, who might or might not be married.
After she’d fled, it had occurred to her that he could have gone to the tavern for the same reason she had: he was bummed. Say, because his wedding had been canceled.
That idea was slightly more palatable than the alternative, that she was a last hurrah. But not a whole lot. If his bride-to-be had stood him up right before the wedding, what did that make her, Lina? Some kind of hey-she’s-available fill-in? All cats were gray in the dark, right? And in the morning, when it wasn’t dark anymore, he’d had her from behind and never had to look at her face. If he hadn’t gotten any sex on what should have been his wedding night, he’d certainly had plenty the night before.
Occasionally she let herself wonder if it had occurred to him he hadn’t used a condom that last time. But, really, what difference did it make whether he’d just forgotten or made the decision to wake up the way he liked even though he couldn’t protect her? The result was the same.
At least the morning sickness phase was long past. These days, all she had to combat was exhaustion. She needed to go to bed way earlier than normal if she was going to feel anything close to human when her alarm clock went off in the mornings. And, just her luck, middle school kids rode the same buses as high school kids, tying them to a similar schedule. No, worse: her first class was at the obscene hour of seven thirty. High school teachers were able to sleep in ten minutes later.
Today, she should count her blessings. With two weeks off for the holidays, she could sleep as much as she wanted. Catch up on sleep. Store it. If she could think of anything fun to do, she was free for that, too. Wild and crazy? Not a chance. She’d used up her quota the night she got pregnant.
She could take a nap after lunch, then go for a swim later.
A nap and exercise. As a way to spend her first day of vacation, it was such a thriller, even she was depressed. Maybe Maya could get away to have lunch with her.
Maya answered her call, muted the phone for a minute and came back to say, “Yes, please.” She lowered her voice. “Mr. Floyd is driving me nuts. Must get out of here.”
Lina changed from her sweats into maternity jeans and a warm sweater with enough stretch to cover her burgeoning belly and put on boots because they zipped and were less work than bending over to tie laces.
Her mood lifted during the short drive to the bank branch where Maya worked as a loan officer. Once she reached it, she idled briefly out front. Mr. Floyd, the branch manager, discouraged the use of the parking lot for friends and family. If she’d been absolutely determined, she could have squeezed her Kia into a minuscule spot behind a van, but she made a face and decided to skip it. Parking on the cross street made sense anyway; she could pick up a couple of things at the Walgreens on the other corner once she and Maya were back from lunch.
She locked up and walked past the drive-through and the ATM to the front doors, but when she tried to open one, she couldn’t. They were locked. What on earth—
Belatedly, she focused on the printed sign plastered to the glass: “Temporarily Closed—Computer Network Issues. We Regret the Inconvenience.”
How strange. Maya hadn’t said anything, so whatever it was must have just happened. Lina peered in and couldn’t see a soul, teller or customer, which wasn’t a big shock since this bank had a conference room to the right just inside and restrooms to the left. The only other windows looked in at the currently empty conference room. Past the short hallway, a second set of doors led into the bank proper, and what view she would otherwise have had
