Page 12
Story: Her Protector on Route 14
Holly makes a soft sound and nuzzles my neck. I should be strong enough to push her away. I should ease her back into her own seat or wake her up considering we’re turning into town. She’ll want to explore, want to point out interesting spots she’d like to see, and really make the most of the options she has for photos and excitement.
At the same time, a part of me is eager to get to the hotel so we can book different rooms and I can take care of myself the way I need. When I slow to a stop at the single red light in town, she stirs, her lips dragging across my skin, plush and soft. Her nose wrinkles and she slowly sits up, leaning back in her seat.
“Oh, Tanner. I ... I’m sorry. I didn’t snore, did I?”
“No,” I say softly.
“Oh wow, we’re here! Why didn’t you wake me up?”
Because I didn’t want to stop feeling your breath on me. Because having you asleep next to me felt too damn good.
I want to say that. Instead, I just shrug, playing it off like it’s nothing. “You looked comfortable.”
Just like that her bubbly energy returns. She points out the old saloon, the signs that we clearly need to see because they’re a list of things to do, and people with cameras. “This place is already so popular!”
“For ghost hunters,” I reply. “A niche. They say the Rustic Love Hotel is haunted. Plenty say that it was an old brothel.”
“Well if it’s a ‘Love Hotel’ then I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s something else the ghost hunters are hearing,” she teases.
I barely suppress my smirk. “So that’s where your mind went? You’ve got a dirty streak hiding behind that innocent face.”
“I would think that with any hotel honestly. Unless the whole place is empty,” she teases.
“It’s still relatively early. We can check in then go to the saloon. Perhaps we can find a horse for you to ride.”
“I’m not much of a rider,” she whispers.
My eyes flick to hers, and she immediately clears her throat, face flushing. “Oh myGod. Now everything I say is going to sound like some kind of innuendo.”
I bite back a grin as she rushes on. “Anyway! I’d totally watchyouride. It’d make a great photo. Especially if you had a hat—you’d pass for a cowboy, no question.”
I’m tempted to ask her if that’s the kind of roleplay she likes, but remind myself again that’s not important because we’re not going to be acting on anything like that. She won’t play the eager brothel worker and I won’t play the exhausted cowboy that’s been on the road too long to remember how to connect.
“Let’s check in first and head to the saloon for food,” I suggest.
“We’re getting you a hat either way,” she teases.
I roll my eyes, but after we check into two separate rooms, she spots a cowboy hat in the lobby and insists on buying it for me.
When she flashes that big, dimpled smile and says it’ll "accentuate my rugged look," I don’t stand a chance. I put it on.
The way she looks at me—eyes bright, clearly pleased with herself—does something I don’t want to name yet. But I know one thing: there’s no comparison to how it feels knowingI’mthe reason she’s smiling like that.
I tip the brim of the hat with a smirk and say, “Much obliged, little lady,” in my best cowboy drawl.
She bursts into laughter, full and unguarded, and lifts her camera to capture the moment.
Today might be a long one, but it’s already better than I expected.
Chapter 9 - Holly
A hot shower, being out of the car, and Tanner refusing to take off that damn cowboy hat—even after I offered to wear it myself—makes Rustic Junction feel like something out of a dream.
He looks entirely too good in it—gruff, rugged, completely in his element. And somehow, that hat makes it worse. Or better.
I’m getting amazing photos, sure, but having Tanner walk beside me, pointing out spots I would’ve missed, sharing stories about his life, asking about mine—it makes the whole place feel more alive. More personal.
“Do I get to see any of these photos?” he asks, voice low and steady.
At the same time, a part of me is eager to get to the hotel so we can book different rooms and I can take care of myself the way I need. When I slow to a stop at the single red light in town, she stirs, her lips dragging across my skin, plush and soft. Her nose wrinkles and she slowly sits up, leaning back in her seat.
“Oh, Tanner. I ... I’m sorry. I didn’t snore, did I?”
“No,” I say softly.
“Oh wow, we’re here! Why didn’t you wake me up?”
Because I didn’t want to stop feeling your breath on me. Because having you asleep next to me felt too damn good.
I want to say that. Instead, I just shrug, playing it off like it’s nothing. “You looked comfortable.”
Just like that her bubbly energy returns. She points out the old saloon, the signs that we clearly need to see because they’re a list of things to do, and people with cameras. “This place is already so popular!”
“For ghost hunters,” I reply. “A niche. They say the Rustic Love Hotel is haunted. Plenty say that it was an old brothel.”
“Well if it’s a ‘Love Hotel’ then I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s something else the ghost hunters are hearing,” she teases.
I barely suppress my smirk. “So that’s where your mind went? You’ve got a dirty streak hiding behind that innocent face.”
“I would think that with any hotel honestly. Unless the whole place is empty,” she teases.
“It’s still relatively early. We can check in then go to the saloon. Perhaps we can find a horse for you to ride.”
“I’m not much of a rider,” she whispers.
My eyes flick to hers, and she immediately clears her throat, face flushing. “Oh myGod. Now everything I say is going to sound like some kind of innuendo.”
I bite back a grin as she rushes on. “Anyway! I’d totally watchyouride. It’d make a great photo. Especially if you had a hat—you’d pass for a cowboy, no question.”
I’m tempted to ask her if that’s the kind of roleplay she likes, but remind myself again that’s not important because we’re not going to be acting on anything like that. She won’t play the eager brothel worker and I won’t play the exhausted cowboy that’s been on the road too long to remember how to connect.
“Let’s check in first and head to the saloon for food,” I suggest.
“We’re getting you a hat either way,” she teases.
I roll my eyes, but after we check into two separate rooms, she spots a cowboy hat in the lobby and insists on buying it for me.
When she flashes that big, dimpled smile and says it’ll "accentuate my rugged look," I don’t stand a chance. I put it on.
The way she looks at me—eyes bright, clearly pleased with herself—does something I don’t want to name yet. But I know one thing: there’s no comparison to how it feels knowingI’mthe reason she’s smiling like that.
I tip the brim of the hat with a smirk and say, “Much obliged, little lady,” in my best cowboy drawl.
She bursts into laughter, full and unguarded, and lifts her camera to capture the moment.
Today might be a long one, but it’s already better than I expected.
Chapter 9 - Holly
A hot shower, being out of the car, and Tanner refusing to take off that damn cowboy hat—even after I offered to wear it myself—makes Rustic Junction feel like something out of a dream.
He looks entirely too good in it—gruff, rugged, completely in his element. And somehow, that hat makes it worse. Or better.
I’m getting amazing photos, sure, but having Tanner walk beside me, pointing out spots I would’ve missed, sharing stories about his life, asking about mine—it makes the whole place feel more alive. More personal.
“Do I get to see any of these photos?” he asks, voice low and steady.