by Nina Lane
“Camera, computer, and my packed suitcase.”
“Cheating.”
“That’s how I travel. I take those three things everywhere.”
“Ever had something stolen?”
“My wallet and camera, but that was years ago. I know how to be more careful now. So what would you take to a space station?”
“A loaded e-book reader and a girlfriend.”
Hannah laughed. “Three months with a girlfriend in space, and you think you’d even open an e-reader?”
“Not if the girlfriend is the insatiable Lockhart.” He shot her a grin.
“If I’m insatiable, it’s because of you.”
“I know. I get you going.”
“I mean you’re kind of dirty.”
“Kind of? Sahnehäubchen, you wound me.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, ‘kind of dirty’ gets me going. So does your sexy use of untranslatable words.”
“I’ve noticed.” He gave her a knowing glance. “Komorebi. Mokita. Sillage.”
“Oh, baby, don’t stop,” Hannah murmured.
They exchanged smiles. He liked her sitting beside him, her hair loose around her shoulders, her bare arm resting on the console as they headed off on the road together. It was good. A moment of hygge.
“I have to stop now or we’ll be stranded.” Evan eyed the fuel gauge before he pulled off the highway on to a narrow two-lane road leading to a gas station.
As he refilled the tank, Hannah went into the convenience store to stock up on water and snacks.
Evan caught a whiff of grilled burgers. His stomach rumbled. He glanced at a ramshackle bar on the other side of the street.
Their trip into the desert had taken longer than expected since Hannah had wanted to stop and see a bunny museum, giant dinosaur sculptures, and the Sriracha Hot Sauce factory. He’d have gladly taken her to a thousand other roadside attractions, except that he was getting hungry. He replaced the gas pump and took out his phone to check the map.
“Let’s get dinner there.” He nodded toward the bar when Hannah returned. “The motel doesn’t have a restaurant, and it looks like it’s in the middle of nowhere. We might have a hard time finding a place to eat.”
“Okay. I told the motel guy we’d be there by eight, so that will give us plenty of time.”
Evan paid for the gas and drove across the street to the bar. Music pounded against the walls, and neon beer signs flashed in the windows. People crowded around the bar at one side of the room. A dance floor was at the other side, a few pool tables arranged near the wall. He took Hannah’s hand and shouldered his way to an empty high-top table with paper menus stuck in the napkin holder.
They sat on the stools, their knees bumping beneath the table. The waitress came by to take their drink orders. As they waited, Evan admired Hannah because he could.
In a blue tank top that revealed her smooth, tanned arms and a hint of tempting cleavage, just the sight of her made him hot. Especially since he was so well acquainted with the taste of her skin—cinnamon and honey—and the spicy scent of her. He knew all the curves and hollows of her body too, from the soft undersides of her breasts to the flare of her hips.
She was different out here on the road. Freer. No tension lined her slender frame the way it did in Rainsville.
She caught him looking at her and smiled. She swayed a little to the music, shifting her gorgeous body. Her hair hung in a loose curtain straight down her back, framing the elegant arch of her neck and shoulders.
Mine.
She’s mine.
He’d never felt this way about a woman before, never been willing to let his heart control him to this extent. He no longer gave a damn about the dictates of their affair. She was going to leave one day? He’d find a way to go with her. Or he’d convince her to stay. Either way, he’d keep her with him.
The woman he loved had bid fifty thousand dollars for a date with him. He sure as hell wouldn’t let her go. Ever.
He grabbed his beer, ignoring the stab of unease in his chest. He loved her. He loved Hannah Lockhart with her restlessness, her ambition, her talent, her uninhibited nature that fueled his lust like nothing else ever had. She hadn’t treated him any differently after learning about his heart defect, and she didn’t have a caretaker complex like some other women he’d been with. In fact, she liked it when he took care of her. He intended to keep doing just that.
She was saying something, her voice rising above the din of conversation and music. He leaned closer. Her breath brushed his ear.
“Dance a little after dinner?” she asked.
“Sure.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d danced. Hadn’t expected to until Luke and Polly’s wedding.
Luke had fallen for a girl who was the complete opposite of “his type.” That eased the discomfort in Evan’s chest. Not only had they made it work, they were blissfully in love and happy together. Yeah, Luke had had to unbend, to loosen his rigid hold on Sugar Rush, but he’d done it because he’d wanted to be with his girl. He’d figured it the hell out.
Evan wouldn’t let his older brother one-up him again.
His phone buzzed with a call from Adam. Under other circumstances he would have ignored the call, but this was likely related to the proposal he’d sent his brother.
“I’m sorry, I’ve gotta take this,” he said to Hannah. “It’s Adam.”
“Go ahead.” She waved him away, still bopping to the rhythm of a pop song streaming from the jukebox.
Evan stepped outside so he could hear the call.
“Good news, man,” Adam said. “Dad said we can offer scholarships to encourage students to apply to the program. In addition to the scientific research, we can let volunteers know their contribution can be as simple as planting trees and helping farmers.”
“Great. I have a call in to Alejandro about channeling all this through the Fair Trade Foundation.”
“Have you talked to Luke yet?”
“No. I want all the details in place before I do. He’s the one who has to deal with Sam.”
“You want me to call a meeting for tomorrow morning?”
“Make it afternoon, around two. I’ll be back in the morning. Talk to Kate. She’ll set it up.”
They spoke for a few more minutes before Evan stuck his phone in his pocket and went back into the bar. He started toward Hannah, then stopped. A burly guy was standing next to her—too fucking close. Hannah’s expression was tight, her hand up between them in a clear back off gesture. One the asshole was ignoring.
Evan didn’t think. He didn’t have to. He strode forward and grabbed Hannah’s arm, shoving his body between her and the guy.
“Is there a problem?” he asked coldly.
The guy held up his hands and stepped back. “No problem, man.”
“Good. Stay away from her.”
The man’s eyes shifted to Hannah. “Good luck with that. She’s a cold fish.”
“Walk away now,” Evan growled.
Hannah tugged on his arm.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said. “Don’t waste your time.”
Evan allowed her to lead him a short distance away. He didn’t like the hostility radiating from the other guy, as if he wanted revenge for her rejection. He took another step back, keeping himself in front of Hannah.
“Hey, you going to pay your bill before leaving?” the waitress called.
Evan dug into his wallet for a few bills, dropping them onto the table. Behind him, he sensed Hannah move to the side to grab her purse from the back of the chair.
It happened in a blur. The asshole drew his head back and spit in Hannah’s direction. The glob splattered on her tank top. Her eyes widened in shocked horror.
Evan saw red. He launched himself forward like a torpedo, tackling the guy and bringing him down. They smashed into a table before hitting the ground with a thud. Screams and gasps filled the air from the crowd.
Fury scorched Evan’s chest. He let his fists
fly, slamming them into the fucker’s face, his neck, anywhere he could reach. Hannah shouted, her voice sounding faraway, and pulled on his shoulder. He slammed his fists down again and again. Bone cracked. Blood smeared his knuckles.
A right hook caught his jaw, snapping his neck back. Pain radiated over his skull. He landed on his back. His opponent landed a fist to his solar plexus. All the air escaped Evan’s lungs. After a second of grappling, he regained the upper hand and brought his fist down on the guy’s jaw. A knee to the groin had the man grunting in pain.
“Get the fuck off him.”
Two sets of hands grabbed Evan’s biceps and dragged him away. The other guy lay writhing on the ground, clutching his groin. Grim satisfaction filled Evan at the sight of the man’s bloody face and split lip.
Evan let the two men yank him to his feet. Hannah was beside him, her voice in his ear, but he couldn’t make out what she was saying.
He wiped the sweat off his face with his forearm. His breath burned his chest. His heart jackhammered.
He turned, folding one arm around Hannah. He focused on her face, her wide, scared eyes and flushed skin. His vision cleared.
“We don’t put up with that shit in here,” a bearded man snapped, waving his arm toward the scattered tables and chairs, and the bastard still writhing on the ground. “Either get the fuck out or I’m calling the police.”
Evan took a few more bills from his wallet and tossed them on a table. He grabbed Hannah’s hand and stalked toward the door. She stumbled after him, her fingers tightening around his. They stepped out into the warm night air.
“Are you all right?” Hannah pulled him to a stop beneath a streetlight, bringing her hands up to the sides of his face. “You’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine.” He wiped his nose with his sleeve. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” She ran her hands over his neck and shoulders, across his chest, as if she needed to make sure he wasn’t hurt. “You’re sure you don’t need to see a doctor?”
Evan leaned down to press a kiss between her eyes.
“Believe it or not, I’ve been in worse fights with my brothers. That asshole was an easy mark in comparison.”
“Let’s at least find a bathroom and clean up.” Hannah threaded her hands into his hair, brushing it away from his sweaty forehead. “Thank you. No one’s ever defended me like that before.”
A pain shot through Evan’s chest. No one had defended her because she’d always been alone. Until now. He’d defend her for the rest of their lives.
They returned to the gas station and washed in the bathroom. Hannah changed into a clean T-shirt from her suitcase in the van, tossing the soiled tank top into the trash.
“Let me drive.” She held out her hand for the keys.
Evan shook his head and opened the passenger side door for her. “I’ve got it.”
She hesitated for the briefest instant, as if she wanted to argue, but then she climbed into the passenger seat. Grateful that she hadn’t questioned his abilities after the fight, Evan got behind the wheel.
“We never got to eat.” She peeled a granola bar open for him.
“Maybe we can find a takeout pizza joint.”
He guided the van back onto the two-lane road leading away from the city. His jaw ached, but he didn’t care. The sun sank into the horizon behind them, fields sweeping past in swaths of reddish gold.
Fewer cars appeared on the roads the farther they drove into the desert, turning on to a road that wound through the hills. Then they were alone, just the two of them, an old bakery van, and countless cacti and Joshua trees.
“I think it’s about twenty miles.” Hannah squinted at her phone. “I don’t know, my GPS is acting a little wonky. Can I use your phone?”
He handed her his phone, but she had no better luck.
“Well, this is definitely the right road.” She looked out the side window at the darkening desert hills. “I think.”
Evan chuckled. Hannah shot him a grin. She reached across the seats and put her hand on his thigh. He felt the warmth of her palm through the denim of his jeans. His breath shortened.
He cleared his throat. “Lockhart.”
“Hmm?”
“I—”
The van lurched. A sudden bang exploded from the engine. Evan swore, slamming his foot on the brake. Hannah gasped and grabbed the dashboard. The tires squealed. The van skidded, spinning to the side before sliding to a hard stop on the shoulder of the road.
“Oh my God.” Hannah pressed a hand to her chest. “What happened?”
“Not a tire.”
Evan shoved open the door. A rush of dry, smoky air filled his lungs. He unlatched the hood and opened it. Smoke billowed out from the engine in a thick fog.
“Shit.” He pulled a breath into his tight chest.
“I have a toolkit in the back,” Hannah said, pausing at his side. “In case of emergency.”
“I’d say this qualifies.” He peered closer at the engine. “You call for help. I’ll see if I can figure out what’s wrong.”
She hurried to get the toolkit. She took out her phone and swiped the screen as Evan checked the van’s fluid levels.
“Bad timing, huh?” Hannah asked. “That’s how it is with cars sometimes. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens next.”
He glanced at her. “Well, as someone very wisely once said, ‘That’s how it is with cars sometimes.’”
Hannah lifted her eyebrows. “I just said that.”
“Oh.”
She laughed. “Are you kidding me? You like The Love Bug?”
“One of the best movies ever made.” Evan grinned. “But I thought I was the only one who’d memorized the dialogue.”
“I only know some of it.” Hannah’s eyes still twinkled. “First saw it at the old Vitaphone movie theater in downtown Rainsville. I thought it was silly and juvenile at the time, but it grew on me. Soon it became one of my favorites.”
“Mine too. I had a thing for those old racing movies when I was a kid. Around the World in Eighty Days, Cannonball Run, Gumball Rally. I liked to think I’d go on a race like that one day.”
She smiled, but it was tinged with sadness—as if she were picturing him as a little boy in a hospital room, dreaming grandiose dreams.
Once upon a time, he had been. But now the biggest dream of all, the one he’d never imagined believing in, was standing right in front of him.
He chucked her beneath the chin. “I like you a lot, Lockhart.”
“Du bist mein Weltwunder, Heartbreaker.” Hannah turned to climb into the van, then glanced back over her shoulder at him. “Look it up.”
Evan knew enough German to understand that phrase. You are my wonder of the world. His heart skipped a hundred beats.
Chapter
TWENTY-ONE
Hannah shaded her eyes against the glare of the setting sun, glad for the hundredth time that they’d brought plenty of water. The empty road stretched out to either side, not a single car passing.
“Maybe we should walk back to that gas station,” she suggested. “It can’t be far.”
“At least ten miles, if not more.” Evan squinted at the grimy innards of the van engine. “Any cell service yet?”
Hannah checked her phone and shook her head. To preserve what little battery power she had left, she turned it off and tossed it back onto the passenger seat.
“Someone will be by soon,” she said, though two hours had passed without a single vehicle. This wasn’t exactly a well-traveled road.
She climbed into the back of the van and grabbed another bottle of water. She took a drink and brought it out to Evan.
Everything inside her froze. He was slouched against the side of the van, one arm around the rearview mirror, and his left hand on his chest.
“Evan?” Hannah hurried forward.
He jerked at the sound of her voice and pulled himself upright. “Nothing. Just a twinge.”
A twinge? In his he
art?
Her hands shook as she opened the water bottle. “Here. You’d better get back inside and sit down. Nothing we can do about the engine anyway.”
The fact that he didn’t protest told her more than she needed to know. Evan hauled himself back into the driver’s seat and took a drink of water. The color had drained from his skin, leaving him pale beneath his tan.
Hannah clenched her jaw against a surge of pure fear. She grabbed a T-shirt from her travel bag and wet it with precious water before climbing back into the passenger seat. She handed the damp shirt to Evan. He ran it over his face, his gaze on the bleak road in front of them.
“You need to get to a hospital,” Hannah managed to say.
He gave a short shake of his head. “I’ll be okay.”
She looked out the side window, blinking back tears of rising anger. What the fuck had they been thinking, venturing out into the desert when Evan had issues with his heart? How could he have put himself at risk like that? How could she have let him?
Evan’s hand clamped around her wrist suddenly, the grip manacle-tight despite his weakness. She faced him, startling at the frustration rising hot in his blue eyes, the lines of tension bracketing his mouth.
“Don’t,” he gritted out, his breathing fast. “Don’t you even think we shouldn’t have done this. I’ve lived with this condition for thirty-one fucking years of my life. I know what I can and can’t do. I know my limitations, though God knows I’ve fought against them every day. And I hate that Luke was right about it not being safe for me to travel to remote parts of the world. But there is nothing dangerous about driving east of LA to visit the damned desert. This is an accident, a case of bad fucking timing. It is not a stupid thing to have done. In fact, this trip has been the best thing I’ve done in years. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
Hannah managed a faint smile, even though a tear slipped down her cheek. She tugged her wrist from his grip and took his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together.
“I’ll go,” she said. “I’ll head back to the gas station, and if someone comes by or if I get there first, at least we’ll both be able to find the other person.”