They’d taken what they called their Escape from the Kids Night—a once in a blue moon event. The intention had been a quiet dinner—something dimly recalled from before the advent of three kids under six—and a movie that didn’t have any sort of animation or talking animals.
Along the way, Jolene realized what she really wanted to do with the four precious hours they’d roped in a babysitter. She directed Vance to get on and off Interstate 90, and check into a Quality Inn.
He didn’t put up a fight.
For the first time in more than a year they had energetic, wide-awake, uninterrupted sex. Twice.
Then a third time after Vance ran out to get food from the eatery next door.
While they couldn’t quite pull off a fourth, they indulged in a long, hot shower where no one called out for Mommy or Daddy.
They drove home again in the dreamy afterglow, vowing to make Motel Sex Night a regular event.
“We’ll make more of an effort.” So relaxed she wondered she didn’t slide out of the seat, Jolene smiled at the father of her children, remembering why she’d married him in the first place.
“Next time, we add a bottle of wine.” Vance kissed her hand.
“And some sexy lingerie.”
“Oh, baby!”
She laughed, sighed. “I love our babies, Vance. I couldn’t imagine life without them. But oh my God, having a few hours not being Mommy first? Once a month. We can do once a month.”
“It’s a date.”
He kissed her hand again, absolutely and blindingly in love with his wife. He saw the gray lump on the side of the road, took it as roadkill. Had already passed it when his brain registered what his eyes told him.
“Vance!”
“I know, I know. Hold on.” He hit the brakes, backed up.
“It’s a woman. I swear it’s a woman.”
“I see her. I see.” He edged the car to the shoulder. “You stay here.”
“I will not!” Jolene pushed out even as he hit the flashers. “God, Vance, she’s half-frozen. Get the blanket out of the truck.”
“I’m calling nine-one-one.”
“Get the blanket first. She’s got a pulse. She’s alive, honey, but she’s freezing out here. I can’t tell if she’s hurt anywhere. She’s got some scrapes, some nasty scrapes, and she’s hit her head or someone hit it for her.”
He tossed his wife the blanket, pulled out the flares.
“I’m calling for an ambulance.”
Jolene tried to warm the cold hands with her own, looked at her husband in the red light of a flare. “Tell them to send the police, too.”
A little after midnight the Lubbocks gave their statement to the responding officer while EMTs loaded the unconscious woman into an ambulance.
*
Chase drove Jessica home. Rory’s idea, she thought, not because he wanted to link up the two of them, but because—clearly—he’d wanted the chance to linger with Chelsea.
“I imagine they’ll shut the place down. Your brother and Chelsea.”
“Rory’s not one for leaving a party until he’s dragged out.”
“I appreciate you taking me home. I couldn’t keep up with them.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble.” He shot her a glance. “Seems like you had a good time.”
“I had a great time. I learned two line dances, danced with a man named Spunky, and ate Screaming Nachos.”
“A lot different from back East.”
“Worlds.”
“What would you do on a night out like this back home?”
“You mean in New York?” Closing her eyes, she thought it out. “I’d probably have dinner—probably Asian—with some work friends, then go to a club—probably techno—where a martini cost as much as two full rounds tonight. I’d dance with complete strangers, pretend I was interested in what they did for a living or their issues with their exes, then I’d take a cab home.”
“What’s techno?”
Absolutely charmed, just charmed down to her now-aching toes, she smiled at him. “Electronic music. What do you do on a night out if it’s not the Roundup?”
“Oh, I don’t go out a lot, I guess. I like the movies though.”
“Westerns.”
“Not just Westerns. I just like movies. I went out to visit with Cal once a couple years back, and got to go on a set. A location sort of thing. Not a Western, but this period piece about this woman trying to keep her farm going after her husband dies. Fourteen Acres, it was called.”
“I saw that movie. That was a good movie.”
“You like the movies?” he asked as he pulled up in front of her building in the Village.
“Despite the dearth of Westerns on my list, I love movies.”
“You ought to see Tombstone.”
“I’ll do that.”
He charmed her again by getting out, rounding to her side of his truck, opening the door for her. She considered telling him he didn’t have to walk her to her door, but she wanted him to.
They’d spent the evening dancing, talking, and, unless she read him wrong, flirting.
She might have been a woman with a hard-and-fast rule about cabbing home from a club night alone. But the Roundup was no club. And Chase Longbow was no stranger.
“Have you settled into your place here?”
“Chase, I’ve been here for over six months. I’ve been settled in.”
She unlocked the door, turned back to him. Decided. “Why don’t you come in and see for yourself?”
“Oh, I don’t want to bother you.”
She rose on those aching toes, brushed her lips over his. Sometimes a woman has to take charge, she thought. And grabbing the front of his shirt, she yanked him forward.
It only took him about ten seconds to stop being shy.
*
On the drive home, Bodine stretched her arms, rolled her shoulders. “You had a fine idea, Skinner. Dinner and dancing was just right.”
“I’ve got other ideas.”
“I bet they’re fine, too. I need you to turn up here, into the resort.”
“That’s the long way around.”
“Depends on where you’re going.”
He knew where he wanted to go. Onto those nice, fresh sheets with her under him, but he made the turn.
“There’s something so pretty about the dark and the quiet. Take the left road here. I don’t know how people sleep in the city, with all that light and noise.”
“It has its moments.”
Curious, she glanced toward him. “Would you ever go back to it?”
“I hate saying never, but there’s no pull for me. I guess I missed the dark and the quiet.”
“We got plenty of it. Slow down, make this next left right there.”
“That’s not a road, Bo.”
“No, it’s not a road. But it’s a cabin. And look here.” She drew out a key, held it up. “What I just happen to have.”
He looked at the key, looked at her. “You are a smart and interesting woman.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
He might have come around to get her door, but she didn’t give him the chance. So he took her hand as they walked across the gravel and up the steps to the porch. “I was smart enough to get some food and beverages in case we want some, and coffee for the morning if we stay awhile.”
“More interesting by the minute.”
She unlocked the door, turned on the light in the living area. “Why don’t I give you a tour?” She tossed the key aside, then her coat. “We can start with the bedroom.”