Chasing a Dream

by Beth Cornelison

  Try as he might, he couldn’t suppress a grin.

  “Now what are you laughing at?” Her wrinkled brow and chiding tone reflected her pique.

  “I knew there was a spark buried in you.”

  “Excuse me?” She tipped her head, pinning him with a baffled stare.

  “Never forget the fact that you took action, Tess. No matter what else happens, you had the courage to get away from a bad situation. That in itself is a victory.”

  Clearly, his directness caught her off guard. She sank back against her seat and seemed to wilt. “It wasn’t courage that made me leave. It was fear. I’m not nearly as heroic as you want to paint me.” Dropping her chin, she stared down at her hands.

  “I know what I see. Besides, courage isn’t the absence of fear, it’s the ability to act despite the fear.”

  She gave him a brief glance then seemed to be considering his point. Silence returned for the next several miles, but now the quiet felt more companionable than tense. When he pulled the Jimmy into the parking lot of an independently owned motel, he sensed the tension filling her again.

  Taking her hand, he brushed a kiss on her knuckles. “Shall we check in, Mrs. Boyd?”

  Her gaze lingered on their linked hands for a moment before lifting to meet his. The misgivings he read in her expression as she weighed her options faded, and with a light squeeze of his hand, she relayed the faith she put in him. He accepted her trust as the precious gift it was. Warmth spread through him and seeped into the dark crevices where guilt and despair had lived for long years.

  When her mouth curved in a small smile, her face glowed. Tess had an undeniable beauty, inside and out. His thoughts leaped to his impulsive attempt to kiss her. Even stroking her lush mouth with his fingers had fueled a desire he knew he had to control. He’d promised her safety, and she’d offered her trust.

  Now they would be sharing a room, posing as man and wife, sleeping within the same walls. He’d sworn not to touch her, and his conscience wouldn’t let him break that oath.

  But if she made the first move, all bets were off.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  His men were waiting when he strode into the dim warehouse. Tony Morelli gave them a grim look as he approached, relaying his disgust with their piss-poor work. Dominic seemed particularly edgy, despite his dark glower. And so he should be. He’d not done his job, made Morelli look bad to Sinclair. By all rights, Dominic should be quaking in his snakeskin boots.

  “Let’s have it. What do we know? Where is she?” Morelli barked.

  Henry Granger, a tall, burly man Sinclair had hand-picked, spoke first. “We know she went north since Dom tracked her to outside Waco. We’ve focused our efforts in that region, put more men there.”

  “That was hours ago,” Morelli growled and stepped closer to Henry. “She could be anywhere in a two-hundred-mile radius by now.”

  Henry squared his shoulders. “We’ve got the area covered. Got the whole damn state covered for that matter. She won’t be hard to find. A woman as hot as Tess Sinclair is gonna get noticed, whether she wants it or not.”

  Dominic shifted his weight, drawing Morelli’s attention. “We’ve got ears on ’bout any number she might call. Her secretary, their house . . . everyone right down to her hairdresser. If she calls anyone for help, we’ll trace it.”

  “If.” Morelli faced Dominic fully. “If she calls. And what if she don’t? Sinclair’s frothin’ at the mouth. He wants her back yesterday!” He stepped closer to Dominic and shoved his face close to the shorter man’s. Close enough to smell the man’s sweat. “Do you understand what I’m sayin’?”

  “Our men have given pictures of her to places along the highways where she might stop. Motels, restaurants, gas stations and the like. Put a real sweet price on any lead that pays off. We’ve already got tips comin’ in.” Dominic gave him a satisfied grin. “We’ve got eyes everywhere.”

  Morelli stepped back and rubbed the bristly stubble on his jaw. “Sinclair says she stole his money. When you find her, if she makes trouble, no need to be gentle with her.”

  He glanced from Henry to Dominic to make sure they’d understood. Like ’em or not, those were Sinclair’s orders. His job was not to second guess, just to comply. Still, hurting a woman wasn’t Morelli’s style. He’d slit his share of men’s throats in his day, but with women, well . . . women were good for so many nicer things. Speaking of which . . .

  He glanced at his watch, eager to finish his business and get back to Maria. If this morning was any indication, his wife had some nice things planned for him when he got home. His blood heated at the thought.

  “All right. I want another report tonight. You get anything promisin’ on her, I want to hear. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  Dominic turned to leave, and Morelli sent Henry a silent signal.

  “Not so fast, Dom. Sinclair wanted you to know how disappointed he was that you let his wife get away.”

  Dominic stopped and cast a wary glance over his shoulder. Henry grabbed him in a wrestler’s hold, pinning the stocky man’s arms to his sides. Panic filled Dominic’s eyes, and Morelli snarled in disgust.

  Whipping a switchblade from under his jacket, Morelli seized Dominic’s right hand.

  “Noooo!”

  Dominic’s pinkie came off with a quick, clean swipe of the switchblade, and the man crumpled to the floor, howling in pain. “Don’t fail Randall Sinclair or me again, Dom. He’s not likely to give you a third chance.”

  ***

  Tess stood in the middle of the floor, rubbing the goose bumps on her arms and moving her gaze around the dark motel room. The dark green and blue patterned bedspreads had been chosen to hide dirt, she supposed, and not to dispel the gloomy ambience.

  Justin’s backpack bumped her fanny when he scooted past her, attesting to the narrow confines. She stepped out of his way, rubbing her bottom.

  As he dumped his possessions in the corner by one of the sagging beds, he grinned at her. “Sorry.”

  With a click, he snapped on the wall light, and a golden glow spilled from behind the scalloped, plastic lampshade. The soft light brightened the room some, but Tess remained uneasy.

  Eyeing Justin as he settled in, she acknowledged that her discomfort came from her circumstances and not her environment. The small motel room seemed even smaller because of the man hanging his cowboy hat on the top end of his guitar case.

  She also acknowledged that her discomfort could not be called fear. Although fear had been a living thing inside her for most of the day, she trusted Justin. Her uncertainty sprang from the way he’d thrust himself into her life, appointed himself her protector. Even after his first-hand taste of the danger she faced, he chose to stay with her, flatly refused to leave when she begged him to get himself out of harm’s way. But why? He was hiding something from her, and that missing piece of the puzzle gnawed at her.

  She intended to draw the truth from him. Somehow.

  Justin turned down the window unit air conditioner, which blew musty-smelling, damp air. The elimination of the cool draft eased the chill that prickled her arms, burrowed to her bones, and even made her nose run. She longed for a chance to change into warm, dry clothes after spending the afternoon wet and shivering.

  Apparently, her roommate had similar ideas, because he stripped his damp T-shirt over his head and began rummaging in his backpack. “Draw straws for first dibs on the shower?”

  Tess stared at his wide, taut chest and tan nipples with a nervous fluttering in her stomach. Why had she agreed to share a room with him? Surely there’d been a suitable compromise if she’d taken the time to think it through.

  “Tess?”

  Then again, he hadn’t given her much choice.

  His high-handedness nettled her, but she kept silent. Experience had taught her that the less she argued or provoked, the better. When he bent to dig in his pack again, she followed the bumpy path of his spine down his muscled back to the point it disappeared
into his jeans.

  “I don’t mind waiting, if you want to go first,” he said. “Just save me a little hot water. Okay?”

  Sharing close quarters would be awkward at best. She knew next to nothing about this man. Except that he had a charm, a reassuring manner, a presence about him that managed to lull her despite the circumstances. His sense of fairness led him to pay for half of a motel room she’d guess he couldn’t afford. He had a stubborn streak that made reasoning with him an exercise in futility.

  And he was as handsome as the devil.

  The unbidden thought popped into her mind, rattling her senses, much the way his near-kiss had startled her. She raised a hand to touch her lips, remembering the soft pressure of his fingers there.

  He’d said her mouth was pretty. Warmth gathered in her chest and radiated outward, tingling in her limbs, muddling her brain. She should know better than to take his offhand compliment seriously, but his kindness touched a raw nerve, soothed her bruised spirit.

  Echoes of Randall’s rage, just one night before, filtered through her mind. In recent years, all she’d known from Randall was humiliation. She suppressed a shudder and chased the ugly memories away by focusing on Justin’s activity. He pulled a pair of white briefs out of his backpack and tucked them under his arm with the fresh jeans and T-shirt he’d already extracted.

  The corners of his eyes crinkled when he faced her. “Yo, Tess? You in there?”

  “Hm?” Snapped from her dazed examination of him, she met the amusement in his blue eyes.

  “And women accuse men of not listening.” He shook his head. “Do. You. Want. The. Shower. First?” He pinned her with a pointed gaze and curled his lips in a wry smile.

  “Oh. Uh . . . no, you go ahead.” She stepped over to the bed farthest from him and sank wearily on the edge. “You never did eat before. You must be starving.”

  Rubbing his lean stomach, he came around the end of his bed and headed for the shower. “You’re right about that.”

  Drawn by the motion of his hand, her attention lingered on the dark hair sprinkled across his abdomen. “I could order room service if you—”

  His laughter interrupted her. “We’re not in the Marriott, Tess. I don’t think room service is an option.”

  Frowning at him, she scrunched the ugly bedspread in her hands. “I know that. I’m just tired. My brain is kind of numb, and I—”

  “Don’t sweat it. I’ll get something from the vending machine later.” He waved a dismissive hand as he sauntered toward the bathroom.

  “Nothing nutritious ever came out of a vending machine, Justin.”

  He paused and cast her an odd look. She caught her breath, realizing her comment could have been construed as a challenge rather than concern.

  “Junk food got me where I am today. Something nutritious would probably send my body into shock.” With a wink, he disappeared into the bathroom.

  After a moment to release the air from her lungs, Tess found herself grinning. Justin’s easy-going demeanor and sense of humor were foreign to her. Randall had little patience with her occasional attempts at levity, and his overbearing nature soon quashed her desire to try to lighten his mood. Peaceful coexistence quickly proved her best tactic with her common-law husband.

  Compelled to feed Justin, to repay him for saving her life if nothing else, she mulled over the options for food. Having something delivered seemed the best bet since it wouldn’t require her leaving the safety of the room and Justin’s proximity.

  She paused, mulling over the idea that his presence gave her a vague sense of security. Maybe she’d had selfish motives for not fighting his decision to stay with her. As crazy as it seemed, she felt safer with this man she’d known for a few hours than she did around the man she’d moved in with twelve years ago when she needed a different kind of security.

  Yet she knew better than to let her guard down. If nothing else, the kidnapping attempt showed her Randall’s men could strike at any time, anywhere. That thought sent a fresh wave of chills prickling over her skin.

  With a weary sigh, she opened the phone book and found the number of a pizza store that delivered. She reached for the phone but paused with her hand suspended over the receiver, a haunting memory seeping through her mind.

  She’d been in her kitchen, cutting up raw chicken for a casserole just two days ago when the phone rang . . .

  If only she’d never heard that incriminating call. She shook her head. No, that call and the events that followed, all the wretched things she’d discovered about Randall, had been the catalysts to make her act. She’d finally screwed up the nerve to walk away from a miserable existence, and she would never look back. Now she could only pray she lived long enough to find the new life she craved.

  A loud thump from the bathroom jolted Tess from her reverie, and adrenaline spiked her pulse.

  “Ow!” Justin yelped. “Damn that hurt!”

  She glanced toward the bathroom door. “Justin?”

  “I’m all right. Just clumsy is all.”

  She put a hand over her racing heart and dragged in a calming breath.

  When she called the pizza store, she ordered by rote the same sausage pizza Randall liked but she’d learned to hate over the years. Just before she hung up, she caught herself.

  “Wait!” she called to the woman on the line. “Change that to a vegetarian pizza with whole wheat crust.”

  The freedom to do as she chose, without Randall’s censure, caused a ripple of joy to flow through

  her. For tonight at least, she could breathe easier, do whatever she wanted. A small victory.

  She sighed and lay back on a pillow, stacking her hands under her head to stare at the ceiling. She listened to the voices that passed outside their door, the rumble of traffic on the highway, the distant wail of a siren. Somewhere out there, Randall’s men were looking for her. Closing in on her. She had to remember that, had to stay alert and be cautious. Her life depended on it.

  A moment later, Justin’s voice carried loud and strong over the sound of the shower. His singing was so incongruously lighthearted in contrast to the ominous track of her thoughts that she started at the sound. After a moment, Tess cracked a grin as she listened to him croon. His rich, mellifluous tenor voice gave her a measure of comfort, and she closed her eyes. His cheerfulness helped her keep her mind from dwelling on her frightening past and uncertain future. The familial ease that he displayed with his shower concert took the rough edge off her nerves.

  An image of Justin naked, rivers of water streaming down his lean body as he showered, flashed in her mind’s eye. Startled by the sensual picture, she quickly opened her eyes again. Her heartbeat accelerated. Still, his voice skimmed over her like a lover’s hand, leaving a tingle on her skin. She wrapped her arms around herself, dismayed by the path her thoughts had taken. Allowing herself to feel any attraction to her rescuer would only complicate things for her. She needed to keep her association with him as emotionally detached as possible. Objectivity would make freeing herself from him easier.

  The water cut off, and Justin whistled now.

  Tess stared at the ceiling with wide eyes, afraid to close them again because of the graphic vision she’d conjured before.

  When the bathroom door opened, she refused to look at Justin, uncertain what she’d find or what he might read in her eyes, but her peripheral vision followed his movement around the room.

  “No TV, huh?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “I never watch much, anyway. How about you?”

  “No.” Listening to the whisper of cloth, his soft tenor humming, and the thud of her heartbeat, she searched for a distraction. “I ordered us a pizza.”

  “Oh, yeah? Cool. What kind?”

  “A large vegetarian with whole wheat crust.”

  The rustle of clothing stopped, and the shadows on the ceiling stilled.

  “You’re joking, right? You didn’t really ruin a perfectly good pizza with vegetables and wh
ole wheat, did you?”

  Teasing laced his tone, yet she tensed.

  “Yes.”

  She heard a snort-like sigh then a low chuckling, and she relaxed her muscles again.

  “At this point, even vegetables sound good. I’m starved.”

  When the shifting shadows told her he’d moved across the room toward his backpack, she pushed off the bed. Keeping her eyes averted, she ran for the bathroom.

  Her hot shower relieved the physical chill, but she doubted anything could ever remove the icy horror of the past few days from her memory. As she emerged from her bath, her own stomach rumbled for food.

  Once dressed, she headed out of the bathroom and found Justin sitting on the bed with his back against the wall. His long legs stretched in front of him, and he held his guitar on his lap. He’d donned a dry pair of jeans and a blue T-shirt, but his feet were bare. His longish hair had been brushed away from his face and curled damply around his ears and nape. The fantasy image of him in the shower she’d conjured moments ago wasn’t nearly as breathtaking as the reality she gaped at now.

  “How long did they say delivery on the pizza would be?” He plucked at the strings of his guitar, tuning it.

  “I didn’t ask.” Studying him, she found nothing, from his wavy black hair to his narrow, bare feet, that wasn’t beautifully masculine, relaxed and . . . sexy. The moment the word entered her mind, Justin raised his gaze to hers, and her heart leaped. The air crackled with the electricity in his knowing blue eyes, as if he’d read her thoughts. Her body grew warm from the heat in his gaze.

  What if she had allowed him to kiss her? She looked at his lips and imagined their sweet caress against hers, the gently coaxing suction—