Sitting ducks.
But it was a tow truck. “Got a call,” the driver said, hopping out. “Bad battery?”
“Yeah, if you can just give me a jump, I should be able to get it home and replace it.”
The guy nodded and they went to work.
“Hopefully you get all the way through,” the tow truck driver said when they had Max’s truck running again. “I heard they’re going to close the road five miles up. There’s a wreck that they might not get cleared until morning.”
Hell. “Thanks.” He got back into his truck and looked at Rory. And Carl too, since he was once again in her lap, the big baby. Max didn’t feel like smiling but that’s exactly what he did since his dog was bigger than she was. “Shouldn’t you be in his lap?”
She had her arms wrapped around Carl in a hug and they looked pretty comfy. “He wanted a snuggle.”
No shit. Any male in his right mind would want a snuggle from Rory. The thought surprised him. But it was the utter truth. “We can go back,” he said, “or we can forge forward with no guarantee. What’s your vote?”
She looked surprised. “You’re giving me a say?”
“Yes,” he said. “Merry Christmas.”
She rolled her eyes but stared at him some more, her expression going solemn and serious. Whatever her thoughts, they were deep and troubled, and he knew it was related to why she was in such a desperate hurry to get home.
“I vote forge forward,” she finally said.
He nodded. “Forward it is then.”
But three minutes later he was second--guessing their decision. The snow had gotten worse and so had the driving conditions.
“I get why you’re mad at me,” Rory said quietly. “And I know it won’t help anything, but . . . ”
“I don’t need an apology from you,” he said. He felt her gaze on him but kept his on the road. “Shit.”
“What?”
He pointed to the flashing sign ahead: Highway closed three miles ahead.
Take next exit to turn around.
She didn’t speak, but her sucked in gasp spoke volumes. They were silent as he got off at the exit. They were in a very small mountain town. Actually town might be a bit overstated. There was a gas station, a convenience store, and a tiny motel. Emphasis on tiny.
Max pulled into the lot. “I’m going to ask you one more time—-go back or stay and get rooms?”
She bit her lower lip.
“It’s one in the morning,” he said. “I’m exhausted. You look exhausted.”
Carl let out a low huff.
“And Carl’s exhausted,” he added and got a ghost of a smile from Rory. “If we get rooms, we would get some sleep and hopefully the roads will open up at daylight.”
“Daylight,” she repeated softly, staring out the window. “So we won’t make it home by dawn.”
There was something in her voice. Emotion. Deep emotion. “Better than going back to San Francisco though, right?” he asked.
She didn’t answer.
“Rory? Stay or go?”
She closed her eyes. “Stay.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “Do you want to call home? I’m sure there’s a phone in there we can use.”
“It’s too late,” she said softly. “They go to bed early. It’s okay, I’ll call them in the morning. I don’t want to walk up the whole house.”
“Okay. Wait here with Carl for a sec, I’ve gotta go try to bribe them into letting him stay as well, otherwise I’m stuck in the truck.”
“We’re stuck in the truck,” she said, reaching to pet Carl.
We. Shit. He hoped to God he had enough cash on him to bribe whoever was in that motel, because the close quarters inside the truck would kill him long before dawn.
Chapter Seven
MAX DIDN’T WAIT for an answer; he just slid out of the truck and strode purposefully toward the small motel. Rory watched him go, his gait confident, those broad shoulders squared against the wind.
“He never second--guesses himself, does he?” she murmured to Carl, her own shoulders slumping.
Carl, who’d climbed into the driver’s seat the second Max had vacated it, licked her chin.
“He’s also still not thrilled with me, kiss or no,” she said.
Carl whined and sniffed at her bag, probably hungry for another PB&J.
“At least it finally makes sense now, given what I cost him.” She sighed. “I really blew it, Carl.”
He whined again and bumped his face to hers. She hugged him tight, burying her face in the short but soft fur at his neck. “I knew you’d forgive me.”
Back then she’d really believed turning in the video had been a victory. Her first. She’d actually won at something, gotten the upper hand.
But she’d been wrong. It’d been a terribly selfish thing to do, leaving Max to pay the price, and what was worse, she hadn’t even realized it because she’d been blinded by her need for revenge.
She really hated that.
She startled when Max opened the door and wind and snow blew in. “Let’s go,” he said.
“They’ll take Carl?”