He followed her sedately through town. The Jeep turned into a parking space at the gas station/fast-food joint/casino, while she pulled up to a pump.
Her jaw angled out. She decided to ignore him, as she went about the business of filling up her gas tank.
A full Greyhound bus pulled into the parking lot. She gritted her teeth and watched with resignation as the occupants disembarked and headed indoors. There were several small family units, a few retirees, a couple of Light Fae teenagers, and a young medusa wearing goth makeup, with her short, slim head snakes wrapped for travel.
So much for short lines and a quick getaway. Claudia wasn’t about to head into the desert without at least a couple bottles of water in the car, even if she was traveling on a major highway. After filling her tank, she sucked it up and went inside to the Food Mart.
Eventually she made her way outside again, having acquired half a dozen bottles of water and a shortened temper.
She found Luis lounging against the wall in the sunshine, a duffle bag at his feet. He wore scuffed boots, faded jeans, a gray t-shirt, his black leather jacket and a scowl. She looked at his strong, graceful neck, where his satin-brown skin disappeared under his shirt, and she wanted to bite him again, to claw at that perfection while she took him into her body. Surely the gods had not been fair when they’d made that man so damn beautiful.
She dragged her gaze away and squinted at the early morning sun. “What are you doing here, Precious?”
Luis said, “I’m not done having sex with you yet.”
It took a split second for that to sink in. She spun on her heel, spoiling for a fight.
He gave her a slow smile that was both remarkably sweet and naughty at the same time. His grandmother must have warned him that smile might land him in jail or at the wrong end of a shotgun at a wedding.
Her expression compressed. Then the edge of her mouth took on a slight, unwilling tilt. “I spent most of my adult life in the army. You think you can shock me with that kind of shit?”
His smile widened. He stepped close and ran the tip of his finger lightly down her cheek. “I got time off for good behavior, and injuries incurred on the job. I was coming back to the house to tell you, but you were already taking off. I’ve called someone to come pick up the Jeep. I don’t have to be back at work for at least another month, maybe even six weeks if I sound pathetic enough over the phone. I figure that means I get to hang out with you for a while.”
Doubts crowded in. She felt uncharacteristically torn between what she wanted so badly and what her mind told her was the right path to take. “This is a terrible idea.”
He gave her an exasperated look. “Did I ask you what you thought?”
She bit the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t make herself tell him to go away. It wasn’t right to tell him he could come. She turned and stalked back to her car. He had gotten her so rattled, she had forgotten to lock her doors, and she never forgot to lock her doors. As she threw the bottled water in the back and climbed into the car, he set his duffle bag in the back seat and angled his long body into the passenger’s side.
Claudia slapped her hands on the steering wheel. “Luis.”
He settled back, the picture of contentment. “Shut up and drive.”
All the passengers were back on board the Greyhound bus when it pulled onto the highway fifteen minutes later.
On the bus, the medusa opened up her new pack of gum and popped a piece of Bubble Yum into her mouth.
She had clocked the driver of the old car parked at the pump, a tall blonde woman who stepped into the Food Mart as she’d come out. As she’d sauntered past the island of gas pumps on her way back to the Greyhound, for a few, brief moments no one had been around except some hot guy by a dirty Jeep, and he had been busy talking on his cell phone.
One of the old car’s back doors was unlocked. She never wasted time questioning when opportunity or impulse struck. Neat and quick as a cat, she’d swiped what was on top of a canvas bag and stuffed it without looking into her own backpack.
Now she reached into her backpack to check out what she had scored.
She pulled out an old, painted wooden box. So far, so yawn.
The eight-year-old bratty boy who had been begging to pet her head snakes for the last ninety miles popped his head around the aisle seat. “Whaddaya doin’?”
“None of your business, kid,” she said. If he didn’t leave her alone, she might just let him pet her head snakes and get one of them to bite him. Blowing a bubble, she opened the box, pulled out the cards and looked through them.
Hey, maybe these weren’t so yawn after all.
Maybe these were actually pretty sweet.
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