Page 25

Story: Can't Hold Back

His phone sounded to signal an incoming text. He checked the screen, saw a message from Nina. Curious, he opened the text and scanned the information.

“Is everything all right?” Dorcas asked.

“Oh yeah. Nina just sent some information about the storage center. She verified your sister has a unit there. It’s paid up until the end of next month.”

“How did she find that out?”

“It’s probably best if you didn’t know.” Plausible deniability, and all that good stuff. It was a pretty safe assumption that Nina had hacked the storage center’s computer. If she didn’t, she had Larissa do it for her. Not legal, but at least it let them know that Rita still had a locker reserved and the seven-hour drive wouldn’t be a total waste of time.

The initial surprise faded from Dorcas’s face, replaced with speculation. “Did she find out what’s in it?”

“No, they don’t keep that kind of information.”

“Of course, that would be too easy.”

He grinned, a need rising in his blood that was getting hard to ignore. If he had a lick of sense, he’d talk Ryan into driving her to Georgia. But he was a weak-willed son of a bitch who couldn’t bring himself to do it. “You better get dressed. I’m starving, and we need to get on the road.”

DORCAS YAWNED AS SHEwatched the scenery zip by from the passenger seat of Nate’s truck, while he passed a Buick that was driving ten miles under the speed limit in the fast lane.

At last, the rain had stopped, and the sun peeked through a gap in the clouds. It was the first time since they’d hit the road that she needed to put on her sunglasses. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop people from driving like idiots who couldn’t find the gas pedal.

In a way, it felt good to be away from her apartment. Even with the security system installed, she didn’t feel safe there, and she hated not feeling secure in her own home. Having Nate around eased her anxiety, perhaps more than she liked to acknowledge.

She glanced over at him as he drove, taking in his strong profile, the shadow of stubble along his jaw. Normally, she preferred clean-shaven men, but she liked the way it looked on him. Not rugged, not dangerous...well, maybe a little. Sexy? Yeah, that was it. He looked sexier than usual, a feat she hadn’t thought possible. In the back of her mind, she wondered how that stubble would feel against her palm, against her neck, between her— Nope, not going there. That kind of thinking only led to trouble.

As if sensing her gaze, he glanced in her direction. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Sorry, I’m just tired.” Not the whole truth, but it was better than admitting she’d been fantasizing about his beard stubble. On top of the embarrassment, she felt a flush of shame. Her sister was missing, and here she was, lusting after a man.

If Rita was—nope, not going there either. She refused to go down that road unless she had no other choice. In the meantime, she’d check out the storage unit in the hopes of finding a clue to her sister’s whereabouts.

“How much longer until we get there?” Asking the question made her feel like a kid. They’d been on the road for about four hours and had crossed into Georgia a short while ago, but she had no idea how much longer it would be until they reached Mayford.

“About three and a half hours. You hungry? We could stop at the next exit for lunch.”

At the mention of food, her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten since they made a pit stop at the McDonald’s drive-thru back in Orlando, and she seriously regretted not getting hash browns to go with her bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit. But she preferred not to stop for lunch until after they’d searched the storage unit. “No, I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? ’Cause I’m starving.”

Her traitorous stomach rumbled again, and she prayed it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear it over the radio.

He grinned, a glint of humor in his eyes that warmed her all over. “Your stomach votes yes, so that’s two against one. Three, if you count my stomach too.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but what was the point? He was right; she was hungry, and she’d think better on a full stomach.

Nate took the next exit and pulled into a diner that looked as though it had been a Waffle House at some point in its life. The lot was busy, something she took as a good sign, and he parked in an open spot not far from the building. She unfastened her seat belt, opened the door, and the heat and humidity of a Georgia afternoon hit her like a wet sauna towel.

At the entrance, Nate held the door open for her and followed her inside.

The air was thick with the sound of chatter and the smell of artery-clogging food. Seriously, just breathing the air probably raised her cholesterol a good twenty points. The place looked old but well-maintained, with blue vinyl-covered stools lining the counter, and a few rows of booths and tables. A chalkboard by the hostess station readPlease, be seated, and Nate chose a booth along the side and sat with his back facing the rear of the building.

A few minutes later, a young, heavyset waitress with tattooed arms dropped off laminated menus and got their drink orders. The woman practically drooled over Nate, and Dorcas fought the urge to roll her eyes.

Once the waitress left, Dorcas checked out the menu. Burgers. Chicken fried steak. Biscuits and gravy. Not a healthy option in sight. “Just looking at this is making my pants tighter.”

Nate made a dismissive sound. “Relax. You got nothing to worry about.”

“Easy for you to say. I bet you’ve got the kind of metabolism where you can eat anything and not gain an ounce.”