Page 24 of Truth or More Truth
“Stupid cancelled flight,” she says.
“Isn’t this road trip more fun than that flight would’ve been?”
“It’s more something.” The tone of her voice reveals she agrees with my assessment, though.
“If that flight had happened, you would’ve never learned how charming I can be,” I tease.
“You’re not charming.”
I chuckle. “You told me I was last night. And you can’t deny I’m warm.”
She snuggles in even closer to me, if that’s possible. “You are.” After a few seconds, she says, “We’re not telling anyone about this, right?”
“What? You don’t want anyone to know we slept together? I’m offended.” I keep my tone light so she’ll know I’m kidding.
“We didn’t sleep together!”
“I beg to differ. We’re together in the same bed, with you clinging to me for dear life, and we slept. We literally slept together.”
“I’m not clinging!” Ironically, she grips me tighter.
“Totally clinging.”
“Okay, fine. I’m clinging. I need your body heat in this frozen tundra of a trucker hotel bed.”
“Well,” I say reluctantly, “you’re going to have to get used to surviving without me, because I’m about to get up.”
nine
. . .
Why does it feel so right to be curled up against Bobby Jacobs? I’m not supposed to like this man, much less enjoy being held by him—in a bed, no less. But somehow I do. And I don’t want him to get up and break the spell that began even before the lights went out last night. I want to stay here in this seedy motel with him. I want him to go back to sleep so I can trace his abs with my fingers like I was tempted to do before he woke up. The man might be thirty-six years old, but he has a body of steel. It was all I could do to not slip my hand up under his multiple shirts and explore his torso skin-on-skin.
What is wrong with me? Bobby’s a player. I’m ninety-nine percent sure of it, though I’m now also eighty percent sure he’s not a cheater. And yeah, maybe he’s not as much of a jerk as I thought, but that doesn’t mean I want to be his next conquest. Even so, it takes more strength than it ought to for me to scoot away from him in the bed.
As he slides out from under the covers, he says, “Stay there until I get back. No reason for you to get cold until I know what we’re doing.”
“Try the phone first,” I say as I shift over into the warmth he left behind in the bed. “If it’s working, you can call the front desk.”
“Great idea.” He flings the curtains open, flooding the roomwith blinding light, before picking up the phone from the table between the beds. “No dial tone.”
He heads into the bathroom for a minute, and when he comes back out, I watch as he pulls a pair of tennis shoes out of his bag and puts them on.
“Does your suitcase double as a clown car?” I ask. “How is there so much stuff in such a tiny space?”
“When you’re on the road half the time, you learn how to pack efficiently,” he says.
“I guess so.”
He stands and slips on his coat. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck.” I smile at him.
Bobby shoots me a grin before heading out the door, sending a gust of cold air into the room as he does. I’d figured it was as cold in here as it was outside, but I was wrong.
While I wait for him to come back, I give myself a stern talking to. While it’s important for me to be able to get along with Bobby, I can’t let myself fall for him. Much as it pains me, I force myself to remember what it was like when I discovered my ex-fiancé in bed with another woman. Jeremy’s betrayal nearly crushed me, regardless of the part I played in the whole situation. While I do believe Bobby’s claim that he doesn’t have a girlfriend, there’s something about women he’s hiding. I didn’t imagine him calling someone “baby” on the phone yesterday. Maybe he’s dating her but they’re not exclusive and don’t put a label on it? Whatever it is, I want no part in it.
Instead, I shift my thoughts to Shannon Beckett, Leslie’s twin brother. Now there’s a man I could date with no reservations, and fortunately for me, he and his girlfriend broke up recently. I spent a little time with him when he was in Chicago for Ash’s bachelor party a few weeks ago, and we flirted shamelessly with each other. I’ve been looking forward to spending more time with him at the wedding and seeing where things might go. Of course, he lives in Little Rock and I live in Chicago, but if he’s interested in doing more than flirting with me, I’m not going to let a little distance stop me. And surely it wouldn’t take much persuading toget him to visit and potentially move to Chicago, since his sister lives there.
