Authors: Erin Nicholas
A woman across the room dressed in a bright red T-shirt caught her eye. She was about Sabrina’s age and was using sign language to communicate with the man at the table with her. The man was signing back so Sabrina couldn’t tell who was deaf, or if they both were, but she felt her cheeks grow warm as she watched them. It was an intimate conversation. The kind that couldn’t be had in public out loud. One definite advantage to sign language. The man told her he hoped she wasn’t wearing panties. The woman confirmed that she wasn’t. Sabrina tried to look away. The woman asked if they should get a motel room. The man said that he couldn’t wait and told her to sneak into the men’s room with him.
As the woman nodded, the guy pushed his chair back and headed for the restroom. Sabrina caught the woman’s eye and blushed. The woman looked suspicious and Sabrina reluctantly signed “Sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” The woman looked startled, likely not used to finding strangers who could communicate with sign language. Then she smiled and signed back, “We haven’t seen each other in three weeks.” Sabrina smiled and signed again, “Make sure you lock the door.” The woman laughed.
Sabrina thought about if she would follow a guy into a public restroom for sex.
Then she thought about if she knew any guys who would suggest it.
Marc’s face appeared in her mind. Which was crazy. She didn’t know Marc well enough to know if he was the public sex kind of guy or not. And it was even crazier to think that he’d suggest it to her.
But the heat in his eyes in the motel room and the parking lot wouldn’t leave her alone. And they certainly had the lack of verbal communication going for them.
In the car, Marc’s satellite radio had been tuned to an all-80s channel and had thankfully filled the silence from Muddy Gap to Rawlins. Small talk seemed silly. She and Marc had never spent more than twenty minutes alone in their lives and hadn’t seen one another in four years. It wasn’t like there were ongoing story lines or memories to talk about. Besides, Marc was Luke’s best friend and he’d been there to see all the fallout after she left so he probably didn’t have a lot of nice things to say to her anyway. She was glad they’d opted not to talk.
Marc and Luke were more like brothers than friends. Marc had moved to Justice with his parents and younger brother in fifth grade. When his parents and brother were killed in a car accident in April of his seventh grade year, he was put into the foster care system. He’d been on his way to a foster home in Grand Island, almost three hours away.
But Luke had saved him.
He had begged his parents—who had been foster parents since before Luke was born—to take Marc in. Luke was an only child but he’d grown up with a constant parade of needy kids in his home and life. But Luke wanted more than another foster brother. He wanted them to adopt Marc. Three weeks after the accident, Marc moved in with the Hamiltons. To stay.
It had all made disliking him harder and easier for Sabrina. Harder because he’d lost his family and had turned into a pretty nice guy in general—as far as everyone else was concerned. Easier because after that he’d competed for Luke’s attention and time and he was living right there, in Luke’s house, in his life—in
her
backyard.
Marc returned before she could figure it all out.
“Did you tell Luke where you are?” She knew that he’d called back to Justice.
“Nope.”
“He didn’t ask?”
“I left a message on his cell.”
She glanced at the clock above the cash register. It was shortly after four p.m. in Rawlins, Wyoming which meant after five in Justice. Right in the middle of the dinner rush. “He never has his phone on during lunch or dinner,” she said.
“I know.”
He hadn’t wanted to talk to Luke in person. “You left a message but didn’t tell him where you are?”
“I said I was fine, taking care of something and I’d fill him in when I get back.”
“You didn’t tell him anything about me then either.” She didn’t have to phrase it as a question.
“Absolutely not.”
Got it. Marc was protecting Luke from her. She wondered how that was going to go once she was back in Justice for good. She shifted uncomfortably on the vinyl seat, her heat rash stinging.
The waitress arrived with their food. The aroma of Marc’s burger hit her as the waitress placed her order in front of her. Her mouth watered.
“What is
that
?” Marc demanded, pointing with his fork at her food.
“Cereal,” she answered.
“Cereal?” he repeated in disbelief. “That’s it?”
“Orange juice too.” She gestured toward the glass.
“You ordered cereal and orange juice?” he asked, staring at her as if she’d sprouted two heads.
She shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
She looked down at the bowl of corn flakes. “I like cereal.”
Marc sat back in the booth, his eyes narrowed. “Did you order that because it’s cheap?”
“I…”
“Sabrina,” he said warningly. “Don’t lie to me.”
“You don’t have to pay for the motel room, drive to get me
and
feed me. I’m used to eating cereal. I like it, it’s got lots of vitamins—”
“Son of a bitch,” he cursed and then lifted his arm to wave at the waitress.
“Is there a problem?” she asked, returning immediately to the table.
“I need a cheeseburger, fries, chocolate milkshake and a big slice of apple pie.”
The waitress looked at his plate, then shrugged.
Sabrina scowled at him and crossed her arms, her rash burning. “What was that?”
“
That
was how you should have ordered your dinner,” he retorted.
“I didn’t want a cheeseburger,” she protested, ignoring the way her stomach rumbled at the mention of her favorite food.
“You love cheeseburgers,” Marc told her as he lifted a fry to his mouth.
She had to swallow the saliva that erupted on her tongue before saying, “How do you know I’m not a vegetarian now?”
“Are you?”
She couldn’t lie about something serious like that. “No. But you don’t need to order my food for me.”
He looked at her bowl of cereal pointedly. “Really?”
She tipped the pitcher of milk over her cereal and then picked up her spoon, digging in with feigned eagerness. She crunched away for a few moments, shifting from one buttock to the other, seeking some relief while watching Marc bite into the thick cheeseburger and crispy fries. That looked good. She was tired, hungry, chapped and basically irritated from head to toe.
She emptied her glass of juice, sipped the last of the milk from her bowel and sat back, trying to look satisfied.
“Better save room for the burger.”
“I don’t know if that’s possible. Cornflakes are very filling.”
“You’re eating the damned burger, Sabrina. And the fries, the pie and the milkshake.” He looked serious.
“I haven’t eaten that much food at one time…ever,” she told him, unable to hold back the smile she felt threatening.
“That’s about to change.”
“You can’t force me to eat.”
He leaned forward and pinned her with a stare. “Dare me.”
The smile died. He
was
serious.
“I’m not that hungry,” she tried one more time.
“We have all night. We’ll sit right here and I’ll keep you company, even if it takes until tomorrow morning.”
Marc continued to eat and she tried to ignore him, focusing unsuccessfully on the view out the window. From the corner of her eye she saw him lick ketchup off his bottom lip then suck salt from the tip of his index finger.
She shifted on the seat again, but not so much from the rash now. “Knock it off,” she said irritably.
She could
not
find Marc sexy. Not standing in a parking lot, not even completely naked and
not
eating greasy diner food.
“Knock what off?” he asked, his lips still wrapped around the tip of his finger.
“The sucking and moaning.”
“I wasn’t moaning.”
Okay, that might have been in her mind. “But you were sucking. Stop it.”
“Why is it bothering you?”
He gave her a knowing little grin that she wanted to slap off his face.
“It’s annoying.”
“Noted.” He didn’t look sorry. Or concerned.
Shouldn’t he be concerned about this crazy heat between them too? They. Didn’t. Like. Each. Other.
“Here you go.” The waitress set a plate in front of Sabrina.
Marc slid the ketchup toward her and she tried to frown at him for being so bossy. She opened her mouth to tell him again that there was no way she was going to be able to eat everything, but the aroma of the cheeseburger and fries and the sight of the milkshake and pie hit her at that exact moment. She stopped with her mouth partway open and her stomach growled loudly. Apparently her body had forgotten the way it had insisted on throwing everything up that morning.
“It—” she swallowed, “—looks fine, I guess.”
He took a drag on his tea, then said firmly, “Eat.”
He didn’t have to twist her arm. She picked up the burger and prayed that she wouldn’t embarrass herself by eating it in two bites. She opened her mouth, anticipating the taste of the cheese and toasted bun blending with the sweet ketchup and tangy pickles and… She bit into it and sighed. It was even better than she’d imagined. She almost wanted to cry.
“How is it?”
Until he spoke, she hadn’t even realized that she’d closed her eyes. She took a long draw on the straw. Cool, creamy ice cream with real chocolate syrup blended to perfection and garnished with whipped cream… She closed her eyes again. “Fine.”
Marc chuckled. “Remember, we’ll sit here all night if we have to.”
It was going to take her about three minutes to finish everything and she’d probably want more. “I’ll eat it all.” She tried to sound annoyed. “You’re so stubborn.”
Marc settled back in his seat. “I’m glad you understand that there’s no point in arguing.”
That would have normally been enough to get her going. But well, he’d driven six hours one way to pick her up. And frankly it was pretty tough to argue when her mouth was full.
Chapter Three
Marc watched with pleasure as Sabrina devoured her meal.
He loved women who ate and ate real food. He was a chef. It went with the territory to enjoy watching people enjoy good food. But this was more than that. He hadn’t even made this food, but being able to help satisfy her in some way…
His smile died. He didn’t care one bit about Sabrina or satisfying her in
any
way. In fact, he liked when she was miserable.
Supposedly.
He did, however, like that she was distracted by him sucking salt off his finger.
Stupid.
“I’m going for a walk,” he announced. He slid from the booth and stood.
Her mouth was still full, so she didn’t reply for a moment. But she stood quickly and reached for him, grabbing his hand. “Marc.”
He froze under her touch. Strange since all he felt was heat. “Yeah?”
“Thank you,” she said softly. “For trying to save me. For buying me the best meal I’ve had in a long time. For coming to get me.”
“I—”
She rose up on tiptoe and pressed a quick kiss against his lips before he could say whatever it was that he thought he actually had to say. It was a simple, second-long meeting of lip to lip. He barely got a good taste of her. But his whole body reacted.
She was smiling up at him when the lust finally settled full and hot and complete in his gut…and lower.
“Sabrina,” he said gruffly, “I…”
“Yeah?”
“I’m…glad you’re okay.”
She looked up at him and he had to blink. She looked like…she wanted to kiss him…
really
kiss him.
And he really wanted her to. Which was so stupid and so surprising and so the opposite of what he thought he felt about her that he quickly shoved her back. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He stomped out of the diner without looking back.
Sabrina finished her meal, mentally chastising herself. What the
hell
had that been about? Okay, so they’d been teasing some over the past few hours. Okay, so she’d let him see her in her underwear. Okay, so there had been some innuendos and some not-so-bright moments when she’d felt sparks between them.
But that did
not
make kissing Marc a good idea. Or a forgivable idea. Yeah, it had been a peck on the lips. Nothing more than she’d given many of her friends over the years. But she’d wanted it to be more. And she knew that Marc knew that.
That
was the particularly bad part. He didn’t like her, he didn’t trust her, she had broken his best friend’s heart and he loved to rattle her and infuriate her and fight with her. It was not a good idea to give him any more ammunition. Ammunition like knowing that she was attracted to him.
God only knew what he might do with that knowledge.
“Let’s go already.” He was suddenly beside the table, looking as irritated as when he left.
“I’m ready. Geez.” Her exasperation was apparent, she was sure, as she slid out of the booth and stood.
“Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
“I’m not a child. If I need to go to the bathroom I’ll let you know.”
“I’m extremely aware that you’re not a child, Sabrina, regardless of how you act sometimes.”
“What is your problem?” she asked, hands on her hips.
“We need to get on the road. The longer we spend together…”
She raised her eyebrows. “Yes?” She really wanted to hear this.
“The longer we spend together, the more time you have to drive me nuts.”
Oh, really? She seemed unable to resist pushing Marc’s buttons. It probably was childish, but she took her time pulling one last drink from her straw, wiping her hands on the napkin, reaching for her purse…
“Sabrina,” he said warningly.
“Come to think of it, maybe I should go to the bathroom.”
“Get in the fucking car.”
“I see you didn’t find any extra charm while you were gone.”
“How’s this for charming—get in the car or I’ll carry you out there and throw you in.”
“Yeah, sure. You’ll pick me up in front of all these people—”
He turned back with a large sigh. Then he leaned over and scooped her up into his arms.