Body Heat Read online

  “What’s the likelihood that Jimmy Marlow will tell your ex-husband you went out the back door with a man who doesn’t live around here?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Jimmy and I go way back, but so does he and Scooter. Well, they aren’t exactly friends, but there’s history there…”

  “So he might tell him. The only logical place for them to check is here, Rosie,” I said. “I’ve got a car parked out front. We need to leave.”

  She hugged the towel around her body and shivered even harder. “We?”

  “Yes, we. I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but I’m not going to abandon you when you clearly need my help,” I said.

  She stared up at me, lips parted. Dammit, she was still cold. Her thin cotton tank top was soaked through, and her arms were pebbled with goosebumps. Why the hell had she been stumbling around out here, in the middle of nowhere, dressed like she was going to the beach?

  A heavy pounding sounded at the door, and Rosie jumped up from the bed, her eyes wild, her cheeks flushed. I took a long stride toward her and pointed at the bathroom silently. She nodded and scurried into the room, shutting the door behind her with a quiet click.

  “Open up!” shouted that same voice I’d heard when we were leaving the bar. That asshole she was running from. Scooter was his name.

  I glanced down at my own soaked shirt and pulled it over my head, exchanging it for a clean dry t-shirt from my open suitcase at the foot of the bed. With a deep breath, I steeled myself and opened the door.

  The man looking back at me was holding his fist in the air, clearly about to hammer on the door again. His face was red and covered in a thick scruff, a baseball cap pulled down tight over his sandy hair. He wore an orange Tennessee Vols sweatshirt, low-slung jeans, and a thick pair of work boots. Despite his menacing glare and his height that rivalled my own, he looked pretty harmless. But there was one important thing I’d learned over the years. The harmless-looking assholes were the worst.

  “What’s all this about?” I asked, edging sideways so that he couldn’t see into the room. Even though Rosie was safely hidden in the bathroom, I didn’t want him to get the slightest of glances inside.

  “I’m looking for a girl,” he said, narrowing his eyes as he tried to crane his head around my body. “Rosie Smith. You seen her?”

  “I’m just passing through,” I said slowly. “I don’t know anyone who lives in town or anyone named Rosie Smith.”

  “You been over there to that bar next door?” He jerked his thumb toward Bear’s Bar, and I glanced at the building, putting on my best confused yet thoughtful expression. As I leaned sideways, he took the opportunity to do a quick gaze of my room, and his lips twitched when his eyes landed on my bed.

  “I’ve not been there, no. Like I said, I’m just passing through.” I started to close the door, but he stuck out his boot to block it.

  “There’s a wet spot there on your bed,” he said, his eyes glittering with something sharp and dangerous. “Looks like your hair’s wet, too. You been running around out in the rain?”

  “None of your damn business. Look, I don’t know what the hell you’re after, but it’s not here.” I crossed my arms and kicked his boot out of the way before slamming the door in his damn face. I flicked the lock shut and closed my eyes, breathing through my tense anger. It had taken all my control not to pummel the guy right then and there. He was an asshole. No man worth his salt went chasing down a woman like this. It just wasn’t right.

  And after seeing the look in his eyes, I knew he wasn’t going to let it go anytime soon. I had to get her out of here.

  Chapter Four

  Rosie

  There was a tiny window in the bathroom. I thought about pushing it open and scrabbling out into the rain before rushing through the mud and into darkness. I might be able to flag down a car and hitch a ride to Knoxville. A few of my friends from college lived there now, and they’d let me crash on the couch. But that would mean leaving here without Owen, the whole damn reason I’d come sneaking back into Carlsville in the first place.

  After I heard the door slam shut, I poked my head out of the room to see Franklin pacing back and forth, a frown pulling down his chiseled features. He was handsome, I had to admit to myself, even if intimidating. There was something powerful about him that just radiated off his body, and the muscles in his arms were sculpted and smooth, so unlike most of the guys I knew.

  “Is he gone?” I asked quietly.

  When he glanced up at me, his eyes were a storm cloud. He edged sideways to the window and peered out into the rain. “For now, but I don’t think for very long. He’s gone back over the bar, and he’s talking to some of his friends.”

  “Well, maybe that’s it then,” I said, heart lifting.

  Franklin shook his head. “He saw that water stain on the bed from where you were sitting, and he sure as hell doesn’t trust me. We need to leave. Now, Rosie.”

  My heart began to race, my palms went clammy. “They’ll see us if we go out there.”

  Franklin continued to frown out the window. “Yep, they’ll see us. But I’m a good driver. I can lose them. Come on.”

  “Weren’t you drinking at the bar?” I asked, grasping for any excuse at all not to leave this small sliver of safety.

  “I only had a couple shots of whiskey, and whatever affect they had on me went right out the window the second you walked through that door.”

  I shivered at his words, not sure I should take them as a compliment or an insult.

  He shut his suitcase and hauled it from the floor, reaching out for my hand. For a split second, I hesitated. This guy could be anyone. He could be a murderer or a rapist for all I knew. He was passing through the middle of nowhere, drinking in a rundown bar on the edge of town, and staying in a dingy motel that smelled of mildew and dust. Even though he’d helped me, I didn’t know a damn thing about him, and what I did know didn’t shed particularly good light on him.

  Except that he’d helped me.

  “I’m not going to let them hurt you, Rosie,” he said. “You can trust me.”

  I met his eyes. They were clear and certain, completely the opposite of Scooter’s glassy gaze. He’d gotten me alone in here, and he hadn’t tried a thing. All he’d done was protect me, facing off against my ex when he came banging on the door. Before I could talk myself out of it, I took his hand and let him pull me through the motel room door.

  As soon as we stepped outside, I heard shouts from Bear’s Bar. One of Scooter’s guys must have had his eyes on the place. Fear gripped my heart, but Franklin didn’t waste any time. He ushered me over to a sleek black car and threw open the passenger door before jogging to the driver’s side. He slid in and turned on the engine with a smooth grace that suggested he’d done this kind of thing before.

  Moments later, the tires squealed on concrete as we spun out of the parking lot. Behind us, Scooter’s truck ramped up speed, trailed behind by his boys. I spun in the leather seat and gripped the headrest, watching as the headlights grew in the rear window, so bright it was as if I was staring into the sun.

  “I suggest you buckle up,” Franklin said in an easy voice that didn’t match the intensity of the situation. I didn’t know how we were going to outrun Scooter. For one thing, this guy wasn’t from Carlsville, and he wouldn’t know the roads. But more than that, Scooter was the kind of guy to press his foot to the floor and never let go until he’d run his enemy off the road.

  Swallowing hard, I turned around and stretched the seatbelt across my body. As soon as the click echoed in my ears, Franklin shifted the gear stick and the car threw forward like a space rocket. Franklin spun us around corner after corner of the back country roads, and in the side view mirrors I could see the headlights of Scooter’s truck falling further and further away.

  After several moments of tense silence in the car, Franklin swerved hard, throwing me against the door and knocking the wind out of my lungs. Braking fast, he pu
lled the car behind a dark house hulking on the side of the road and cut the engine before dousing the lights. My breath came out ragged as I watched incoming trucks down the road. Even though we sat behind the house, we still had a view of the passing traffic so we could see the exact moment when Scooter approached.

  Every thump of my heart echoed in my ears. I was certain that Scooter would figure out what we’d done. He’d never been the smartest tool in the box, but he wasn’t a complete idiot. If a car disappeared off the road, it had to go somewhere. But as his truck passed the house, it didn’t slow down at all. And soon, his whole entourage had zipped by without even the slightest of glances in our direction.

  Leaning forward, I pressed my forehead against the sleek console and tried to steady my breathing. Stars dotted the edges of my vision, and blackness threatened to creep in the corners. My skin felt hot and prickly, and the sound of engines roared in my ears even though all the trucks had disappeared down the road.

  “You’re hyperventilating,” Franklin said quietly as he turned the ignition. “Take deep breaths. In through your nose. Out through your mouth. Nice and slow.”

  I followed his instructions as he pulled the car onto the road and aimed it back the way we’d come. Slowly but surely, as the mile markers whizzed past, the humming in my ears began to fade. I pulled myself away from the console and leaned back into my seat, glancing at Franklin as he drove. Streetlights flickered onto his face, highlighting his chiseled jaw and stony eyes. All through this, he’d stayed calm and in control, as if he’d done this a million times before…

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Feeling better?” he asked.

  “Yeah, a little,” I said with a small smile. “We lost them, huh?”

  “That we did,” he said with a nod before turning the car onto a gravel drive and cutting the engine. I glanced around us, at the towering trees bending in the wind and rain. We were miles from where we’d been before, still on the outskirts of town but far enough away from the motel and the bar to be safe. But that didn’t explain why he’d pulled off the road.

  “Why’d you stop the car?” I asked, unease beginning to take shape in my stomach once again. I couldn’t help myself. After everything that Scooter had put me through, it wasn’t very easy for me to trust men, especially not random strangers I’d met in a bar.

  “Well, for one, I don’t know where we’re going.” Franklin twisted in his seat to face me. “I’m happy to take you to your house, but I’m guessing you can’t go back there right now. That’s the first place he would check.”

  I sighed and closed my eyes. “I don’t live in Carlsville. Not anymore.”

  “Okay, where do you live?” Franklin asked. “Does he know where it is?”

  “No, he doesn’t have a damn clue,” I said, turning to stare out the window at the darkness. There was a heavy lump in my throat I couldn’t get rid of. No matter how many times I swallowed, it was still there, an ever-present reminder of what I’d done and everything I’d left behind.

  “Good.” His warm hand enveloped mine, and I couldn’t help but feel comforted by it, even though I didn’t know this man at all. My whole body still shivered from my cold damp clothes and the fear of the last couple hours. “I’ll get you home. Okay, Rosie? Just tell me where to go, and I’ll take you. This will all be over very soon.”

  Sighing, tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I couldn’t look at him or else I knew the tiny control I held over my emotions would wither away. He had no idea. It just wasn’t that easy. My life never had been.

  “I can’t go back to my house yet,” I said, squeezing my eyes as tight as I could. “I can’t leave here without Owen.”

  “Owen?” I could hear the confusion in his voice, but I still couldn’t meet his eyes. “Who the hell is Owen?”

  “He’s my son.”

  Chapter Five

  Franklin

  Fucking hell. Rosie had a son. This whole situation was getting more and more complicated, and she still hadn’t explained much of anything at all. There was an ex-husband, a gang of rednecks in trucks, and a fucking kid. And Rosie, barely over her panic attack, still shivered in the passenger seat even with the heat on full blast. Her soaking wet clothes weren’t doing her any favors.

  “Right,” I said, tightening my hands around the steering wheel. “I’m going to find me a hotel on the other side of town. After I check in, you’re going to take a hot shower and get warmed up so you don’t catch pneumonia for fuck’s sake. Then, we’re going to sit down with some room service, and you’re going to start at the beginning and tell me what the hell kind of mess you’re in. Okay?”

  I expected her to argue with me. She’d shown a certain amount of distrust since she’d laid eyes on me in the bar. I expected it had something to do with my bulk, my height, and my tats. But, to be honest, I couldn’t blame her, especially seeing she was in some shit up to her eyeballs with a lunatic of an ex-husband.

  “Right, okay,” she said quietly as she sighed. “There’s a Holiday Inn two exits down, right off the interstate. I don’t think Scooter would think to check there.”

  “Holiday Inn. Alright.” Gritting my teeth, I started the car and aimed it toward the interstate. I usually preferred to crash in cheap hotels that were happy to deal in cash upfront, not popular chains with security cameras and holds on credit cards, a requirement of theirs just in case someone trashed the place. I didn’t like to leave a trail, but I usually didn’t have to worry about anyone but myself. And I could see now that another cheap rundown place wouldn’t do this girl any good.

  After I checked in, I left Rosie in the room so she could shower in peace. I wandered across the road to a gas station that was still open even at such a late hour, glad the storm had started to ease up. Inside, I found a small gift area where I grabbed a bright orange Tennessee t-shirt and a pair of cotton jogging shorts with the letter T embroidered on them, both in a size small.

  As I checked out, I noticed the guy manning the cash register was around Rosie’s age. Twenty-five, give or take a few years. Giving him a friendly smile, I pulled out a small wad of cash and began counting out what I owed.

  “Listen,” I said in as a nonchalant voice as I could muster, being sure to put some Southern drawl into my words. “I ran into that Scooter fellow at the grocery store the other day, mad as all hell. He’s something else, isn’t he?”

  The guy blinked back at me, eyes alarmed. “I’d stay away from him if I were you.”

  “I plan to, I plan to.” I handed over the cash and watched as he spun open the drawer of the cash register. “You ever have a run in with him and his boys?”

  “Of course not.” He slammed the drawer shut and handed me my change. I’d clearly offended him, as if the very question was some kind of judgement on his character. “I don’t do drugs.”

  Drugs. My lips twitching, I nodded. Of course it was drug-related. I should have known. Everything started to make sense now. Why he was so violent. Why Rosie had left him. And why she wanted to get her kid away from here. But it still didn’t explain why he’d been chasing after her in the rain, running her down like he wanted to take her out in any way he could.

  Fuck, I hoped she wasn’t involved in drugs herself.

  “Of course not. I don’t do drugs either.” Just as I turned to go, I paused, my finger going to my forehead as if a thought had only just popped into my head. “You ever hear anything about his ex-wife? I sure was fond of her.”

  “Rosie Smith?” The guy gaped at me, another strange reaction. “How do you know Rosie? You didn’t go to our high school.”

  “I’m a little older,” I said, easily spinning the lie. “I’d already finished high school when I moved here. She lived right down the road.”

  The guy blinked at me before shaking his head, his eyes moving down to the women’s clothes I’d just bought. “Sure, okay. Well, I haven’t heard from Rosie in several months, not since she snitched on Scooter and disappeared. Her
mom said she went into the witness protection program.”

  My breath stilled in my lungs as I stared hard at the gas station attendant. Surely I couldn’t have heard that right. Alarm bells went off in my head, ones that said I needed to get away from this girl as fast as I could. If she was involved in something this deep, something this dangerous, helping her would only put my own identity and my own neck at risk.

  “Yeah, alright,” I said with a nod before backing out of the building. “Thanks man.”

  Shit.

  Rosie was still in the shower when I got back to the hotel room, and I placed the shirt and shorts on the floor by the bathroom door for her to find when she came out. As I listened to the steady spray of water, I paced back and forth, my jaw clenched tight.

  The fucking witness protection program. What had this girl gotten herself into? And if she’d disappeared from this place—certainly to hide from this Scooter asshole ex-husband of hers—why the hell had she come back now? It was Owen, the kid. It had to be. She’d come back here for him.

  Of course, that didn’t explain why she hadn’t taken him with her in the first place. I knew a thing or two about the program. Anyone entering it could bring children along. They had to leave behind their whole life and cease contact with everyone from their past, but spouses and children were always a part of the deal.

  When Rosie came out of the shower wearing only a towel, her hair wet and slicked back from her flushed face, I had to look away. Something stirred in my heart and in my pants, but there was no time for that. And even if there was, I knew I couldn’t get involved with this girl. And she couldn’t get involved with me. We were the worst possible combination in the world.