Page 40 of Watch Me Burn
Anna looked confused for a second, then her face lit up. “Yes! We could rent an RV and take it to Florida! We’d be able to pack all of our supplies, skip out on hotels, and be under the radar, almost invisible, if we stay at campsites.”
I bobbed my head eagerly. This was an amazing idea—I wasn’t the type of guy who needed much and could easily travel on just a backpack and water bottle.
“Can you take a few days off?” I asked, my enthusiasm slightly fading.
“I just will. I told you this has priority now. I have plenty of unused vacation and sick leave. Let’s do it. End of story.”
God, I wanted to kiss this woman!
But there was only one drawback: renting an RV might be cheaper than some bed and breakfast that wasn’t situated in the middle of nowhere with zero cellular signal, but it was still far from cheap. Each day of renting for just the travel to Florida would add up immensely.
I ran my hand though my hair. “Are you sure you can cover the cost? I will pay you back over time once I started working. It might take a few months. Nobody has been willing to hire me yet, and I wouldn’t be able to chip in more than a few hundred.”
Anna regarded me with determination. “It won’t be a fancy one with TV and AC, that’s for sure, but I’m ready to bite the bullet. This lead is all we got, Ethan—we can’t just let it sit and wither! I know I’ve been dragging down the investigation. Deep down, I was so scared of what I’d find. But that’s over with. I need to know what happened, and more so, clear your name. I owe it to you and my dad.”
A smirk crept onto my face. This was the Anna I knew and . . . cherished.
“My Iron Man . . .” I mumbled. Anna looked at me in a serious manner as she wet her lips.
Fuck.
“Well, let’s fucking do it!” I said, turning away.
“I’m on it, Mother Teresa,” she joked back.
Chapter 18
Ethan
With a light tap-tap-tap, I drummed my fingers against the worn steering wheel of our RV. The New York traffic was a drag, and we were just skimming the edges of our Boston-to-Miami trip. It was a bit daunting when you considered that we had nearly 1500 miles yet to cover.
But the road was hardly my biggest problem.
I was sharing this tiny space with a woman who had long been the star of my dreams. A woman whose whispers and moans had not too long ago echoed against my pounding heart and quickened pulse. The upcoming nights were both a thrill and torture, leaving me with deliciously wicked fantasies.
Fuck.
I ran my hand through my hair and watched the sun’s evening severity cast a glare against the rear-view mirror. I could see Anna lightly swaying beside me.
“Feeling tired?” I teased as I nudged her arm. She blinked rapidly, shooting up straight once she realized what’d happened.
“No, no. Did I miss anything?” she slurred sleepily. A lopsided grin spread across my face.
Sun rays perfectly highlighted her thick lashes and plump cheeks. Driving down an off-ramp, I couldn’t stop stealing glances at her parted lips.
I spotted a mall across the highway. “How about we make a stop? We’ve been driving all day.”
Anna yawned, climbing out of her front seat in the car toward the back. I narrowly dodged her perfectly shaped butt getting into my face as she squeezed herself between our two seats. She was wearing yoga pants to stay comfortable on the trip, so her rear was extra prominent.
Damn it.
When I pulled the RV into the mall’s parking lot, I wandered around the inside. It was outdated and had no AC, but it was equipped with a small bathroom and mini kitchen that had a steamer and a portable hot plate. We divided the back “bedroom” bed by creating a wall of pillows on the queen-sized mattress.
I cranked the sink knob and splashed my face with water. After hours of fighting first Boston and then New York traffic in an RV, my body was completely wiped out. Anna offered to drive the first few hours of our trip, but I raised the brilliantly stupid idea of a man behind an RV wheel. Which felt amazing at first—until bumper-to-bumper traffic hit.
My mind drifted off to Anna as I finished my brushing routine. The wall of pillows was a joke, and we were both only inches away from each other.
I wondered if Anna would still be awake when I got back. My mind was racing with a lot of things: Anna, the mysterious Florida hotel, whether we’d be able to find anything. The fact that her dad’s “closest friend” didn’t know John at all gave me a bad feeling. Had John gotten involved with the wrong people? It wasn’t impossible that a suburban father who provided for his family struggling with medical bills would run into some pretty bad hurdles while he was trying to hold up their foundation. Maybe he needed to start looking to under-the-table borrowers, buried himself in debt with the wrong lender and needed to work for them to pay it off.
