They drove without talking as the lights of Houston rushed by. Her stomach clenched as she thought of Lauren being loaded onto the gurney and whisked away in the ambulance. She’d felt so helpless, so utterly useless, staying behind to answer questions. She’d felt even more useless pacing the hospital waiting room.
She rested her forehead against the window and let the truck’s vibrations numb her as she closed her eyes. Her eyelids burned. She combed through the events in her mind. She went through them systematically, looking for any detail she’d missed, anything she’d omitted when she gave her report.
The truck slowed, and she opened her eyes as Derek pulled into the familiar parking lot.
Elizabeth zeroed in on her room. She pictured Lauren sitting cross-legged on her floor, surrounded by case files and cartons of Thai food. Derek whipped into a space, and she felt a wave of nausea.
“I can’t go in there.”
He looked at her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just can’t. I—”
“No problem.” He thrust the truck back into gear.
“I’m sorry.”
“I get it. Stop apologizing.”
He pulled out of the parking lot, then headed back toward the freeway.
She eyed his phone in the cup holder and felt sick again. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t rest tonight. She should go straight back to the hospital and wait for news.
“There’s nothing you can do there,” Derek said, clearly reading her mind. “Your boss is right. You need a break.”
She turned to look out the window as he got back onto the freeway. “So where are we going?”
“You trust me?”
She hesitated. “Yes.”
“Then relax.” He glanced at her. “Close your eyes, clear your head. I’ll let you know when we get there.”
* * *
Luke stepped away from the throng of people surrounding the bar and pressed his phone to his ear.
“What’s that?”
“I said, it’s Hailey.”
Holy shit. He looked at his phone again. He hadn’t recognized the Boston area code.
“Hang on.” He squeezed through the crowd to the hallway outside the men’s head. It smelled like beer and puke, but at least it was quieter.
“Sorry to call so late.”
“No, it’s fine.” He checked his watch. He hadn’t expected her to call at all, and definitely not at 2200 on a Monday night.
“Are you in Boston?” he asked.
“I’m still in town. I leave tomorrow.” She paused. “Where are you? It sounds really loud.”
“O’Malley’s.” He pushed open the back door and stepped into the alley off the parking lot, where it reeked even worse.
“Guess that means you’re with friends, huh? I was going to see if you wanted to come over.”
He blinked out at the parking lot. “To your hotel room?”
“I was thinking the bar downstairs. I can’t sleep again, and I thought we could get a drink and talk or whatever.”
His mind whirled. He’d had a few too many beers for this conversation. She wanted to get a drink and talk or whatever—which in his experience was girl-speak for sex. He shook his head, trying to shake off the beer buzz and the crazy-ass idea that Hailey Gardner wanted to sleep with him.
“What, you mean now?” he asked.
Silence.
“Sorry,” he said. “My bad. I’m—”
“Sounds like you’re busy.”
“I’m not, I just—” Shit, now what was he doing? He couldn’t actually go over there. He definitely wanted to see her, but he was half loaded. If he got anywhere near her right now, his dick would take over, and he’d waste no time talking her upstairs.
“Luke?”
“I’m here.”
“I can tell I’m freaking you out, and I don’t mean to. It’s not what you’re thinking.” She was talking fast, like she was nervous. “It’s just that I can’t sleep, and it really sucks. And I thought maybe we could, you know, just hang out and talk.”
He tipped his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. “That’s probably not a good idea.”
Was he really turning her down? Hailey Gardner, who couldn’t sleep and wanted to just hang out and talk? And then it was back—the image of her cowering in the corner of that rathole back in A-bad, her face dirty and her hair tangled and her eyes . . . God damn it, of course she had trouble sleeping. But he couldn’t be around her.
“Listen, Hailey—”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“I wish I could come, but—”
“Forget it.”
“Hailey, wait. Hailey?”
She’d already hung up.
He stared down at his phone, feeling like crap. He’d made the right call, though. He knew it. He had no business going anywhere near her or her hotel room in his current state of semi-inebriation.
“Fuck.”
He turned and looked at the door behind him. The thought of going back inside suddenly had zero appeal. What he should do was go find one of his buddies who’d had less to drink than he had and catch a ride home. But he didn’t want to do that, either.
I can’t sleep, and it really sucks.
God damn it. Luke shoved his phone into his pocket and headed for the beach.
Chapter Twenty
Derek drove west, leaving the skyscrapers and the hospitals and the shopping malls behind. He drove through the suburbs until he reached the fringes of the city, and then he exited the freeway and drove some more. Finally, he turned off the highway onto a narrow asphalt road that not so long ago had been nothing but caliche.
Elizabeth stared out the window, not talking. But her body language said a lot. She was clutching the door handle in a white-knuckle grip and glancing at his phone in the cup holder every ten seconds.
Pine trees rose on either side of them. The road curved, and his headlights swept over the sign for the trailhead. The landscape looked different from what he remembered, and he nearly missed his turn.
He rolled to a stop and looked at Elizabeth across the console.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Sugarberry Dam Park.” He pushed his door open and went around back, where he unlocked the toolbox and rummaged around until he found what he was looking for.
Elizabeth slid out and glanced around. She climbed the steep incline to the ridge and stopped cold when she reached the top.
“Whoa.” She stood there, staring out over the reservoir. They were in a dry spell, and what was often a full-blown lake in springtime was now an empty field surrounded by trees. A full moon cast a silver glow over everything.
“Here.” He tossed his jacket onto the ground. “Don’t dirty up your clothes.”
“These clothes are history.” But she sat down on the edge of his jacket, looking out over the view.
He sank down beside her, and she glanced back at the truck.
“You left the radio on.”
“I know.” He unscrewed the top of his flask and offered it to her. She eyed it suspiciously before taking it.
“This is quite the setup.” She sniffed, then took a sip. “How come I feel like I’m not the first woman you’ve taken out here?”
The whiskey made her voice hoarse, and he smiled. “Woman? Yes. Girl? No.” He looked out over the meadow. “I brought Ashley Ferrell out here on her first car date.” She passed the flask back, and he took a swig.
“Do I want to know more?”
“Nah, the rest is top secret.”
She slipped her shoes off and tucked them beside her, then rested her arms on her knees. She leaned her head back and looked up at the sky.
“We don’t get stars like this in San Antonio.”
“Light pollution.” He glanced up. The stars looked nice, but it was nothing compared with the dead of night on the open ocean. Or in the Hindu Kush. On top of the world like that, the sky looked like a big dome of glitter directly over his head.
“I would have figured you for country,” she said.
He glanced over his shoulder, straining to hear the soft, soulful music drifting from his pickup.
“Yeah, well, I like a lot of stuff. Country, blues, jazz.”
“You’re full of surprises.”
He looked at her. “Maybe you need to get to know me better.”
She knew some of his preferences but not nearly enough. And he was learning hers—including the mind-blowing fact that she liked to take control during sex.
And maybe she could read his mind, because she looked away.