“Vaughn,” Sage said in a tone that left no room for argument. “You’re hurt, and I’m freezing. We’re taking the ride. Get in.”
With that, she turned on her heel and walked around the RV, leaving him no choice but to follow or lose her. He stalked after her and reached the door just as the woman pushed it open and waved them inside.
“Come in! I’m Edna. You already met Arnold.” Her husband grumbled from the front seat as he shifted the vehicle into drive, but she waved him off. “Oh, ignore him. He’s all growl and no bite.”
“Huh,” Sage said and cast a too-sweet smile in Vaughn’s direction. “Sounds like someone I know.”
He desperately wanted to flip her off but settled for a scowl since they were in mixed company. He had plenty of bite, and if she didn’t know that by now…well, he’d just have to prove it to her the first chance he got. He’d start with her earlobe and nibble his way down her neck, sink his teeth into the sensitive tendon at the base—
Sage was staring at him, a knowing smirk on her lips.
What, she could read minds now? Or maybe he was just that transparent around her.
He refocused on Edna, who was chattering away. If she’d noticed the silent byplay, she pretended not to.
“We’ve been wanting to do this for years,” she was saying. “We never had children, so when Arnie retired from the military, I convinced him to sell the house and buy this RV.”
“It’s lovely,” Sage said.
It was a nice one. Vaughn imagined it had cost almost as much as a house. Leather seats, granite countertops, a huge TV on the wall—in fact, it was nicer than some of the apartments he’d lived in over the years.
All the more reason this couple shouldn’t be picking up strangers on the side of the road.
“You should be careful picking up hitchhikers,” he said.
From the front seat, Arnold snorted. “I know how to handle myself, son. I spent thirty years as a Marine.” He glanced back. “You’re military. I can see it on you. Marines?”
“No, my brother is, but I went the Navy route.”
“Ah, a squid.”
“Nope. A frog.”
Arnold gave him a quick onceover, then nodded. “Yeah, I should’ve figured that. You have the look.”
“Besides,” Edna added cheerfully, “we don’t usually pick up hitchhikers. You’re our first.”
“And last,” Arnold said.
Edna shook her head at him before returning her attention to them. “We saw your car a ways back. We stopped to help, but nobody was there. Oh, here, sit down! You must both be exhausted.”
“We are. Thank you.” Sage sat the on the couch-like seat across from the TV. “We thought the town was closer and we’d be able to walk, but we ended up sleeping on the ground last night.”
“You poor dears! Here.” She bustled over to the kitchen area, and moments later the smell of coffee filled the motorhome. Vaughn could have kissed the woman when she handed him a mug.
“All right, Edna,” Arnold said. “Leave them alone now. They had a long night. Give them some space.”
Edna fussed a bit more, making sure Sage had a coffee and a blanket before returning to her seat next to her husband. “If you two need anything, you just ask. We should be to town in fifteen minutes or so. Unless there’s somewhere else you want to go…?”
“The next town’s fine,” Vaughn said. If they could get to civilization, he’d be able to charge his phone and call his brothers. Though, admittedly, the thought of asking them for help chafed his hide. Maybe if the town was big enough, he’d find another rental place, get another car, and they could continue on to DC without his brothers ever knowing about the heaping pile of trouble he’d stepped in.
Sage bumped her shoulder against his. “You’re scowling again.”
“I’m not scowling,” he said, even though, okay, he probably was. He took a drink of the coffee to hide it. “I’m thinking.”
“Uh-huh. And you always scowl when you think.” She wrapped her fingers around her mug and sank into the comfort of the leather seat. “You’ve been a bear since you woke up. What gives?”
He remembered the jolt of disbelief followed by the flood of anger he’d experienced when he thought she’d run away from him again. “Nothing.”
“Oh, of course. Which explains why you’re getting all grumbly again.” She said nothing more for a long moment, then finally released a breath and shifted in the seat to face him. “You thought I was trying to escape you again.” A statement, not a question. “I told you I was done running. The engine woke me up, and I didn’t want to risk missing them”—she tilted her head, indicating their good Samaritan saviors—“because I was looking for you.”
“You heard the RV, but you didn’t hear me get up?” he said doubtfully.