Page 4 of Sweet Temptation (Honeysuckle, Texas #3)

Sunshine streamed into the room like a laser beam in the dark. Normally, Jackie would love a bright sunny day, but right now, a carpenter was pounding a rapid succession of hammer strikes somewhere near her head.

Opening one eye, she could see there was no carpenter nearby and the banging wasn’t in the room, it was in her head. Right between her eyes. And against her temples. Was that even possible? Had she ever felt this miserable in her entire life?

What the heck had she done to herself? A car accident?

A fall? Was she in a hospital? Forcing her eyes to open fully, she stared at the ceiling.

Any effort to turn her head only managed to add a stabbing pain to the already-splitting headache, but if she wanted to piece together what was happening, she’d have to look around.

Gently turning her head to the left, she searched for IVs or nurses, or something to explain the shooting pains in her head.

Nothing. Except, where the heck was she?

Nothing about this room seemed familiar.

All she could decipher is that she was in a hotel.

A hotel? Rubbing at the left side of her temple, she tried to remember how she got here.

Nothing. Maybe if she thought on the last thing she could remember.

She was leaving Houston. She’d sold or donated most of her belongings and quit her job to join Brad in West Texas. Brad . That’s right.

She’d flown to Midland, rented a car and couldn’t wait to see the look of surprise on his face when she showed up on his doorstep.

She’d checked into a motel. Glancing around again, she thought hard on the motel.

Definitely not this one. Which brought her back to, how did she get here?

Panic began to roil in her stomach, an unexpected urge to heave had her rolling onto her side despite the hammering in her head.

Staying perfectly still, she waited for the unease to pass.

The need to upchuck gone—for now—she replayed recent events in her head.

She’d left the motel in her most knock-your-socks-off dress and headed for the address she had for Brad.

It was all starting to come back to her.

She’d been so excited. Surprised by how cute the house was—and then she remembered, the bigger surprise was learning Brad had a wife.

A wife . She’d backed away as fast as she could and had a good cry.

Then she’d decided what she really needed was a stiff drink.

How many had she had? So much made sense now.

Why he traveled so often, why he’d always told her his time in Houston was temporary, why he cut her off completely, why he didn’t want to start a family with her—he already had one.

Scrubbing her hands down her face, the light seemed a tad less offensive, even though the hammering was still banging away in her head.

The need to pee forced her out of the bed.

Slowly, unsteadily, but out. Her mind continued to replay the events of last night.

She’d cried. A lot. Noticed the sign for the club.

Something Lounge. A drink and maybe a dance or two would be better than going back to an empty motel room and wallowing over what a major mess she’d made of her life in just a few short weeks.

When had she become so stupid? So blinded by the rapid ticking of her biological clock that she’d latched on to the only viable contender for life partner she’d found.

She’d hoped splashing a little water on her face would help wake her up and bring clarity to the situation. All it did was get her wet. She should go back to bed.

Wobbling over to the bed, extending a hand against the wall every few feet to stabilize herself, she stopped midway.

What good would going back to bed do? She was going to have to face her new reality sooner or later.

If only the hammering would stop. Where was her purse?

She had ibuprofen in there. Right about now she figured half a bottle should do the trick.

The question at hand; where was her purse?

Probably the same place as her memory of last night.

Scanning the room, she spotted her purse and her keys on the dresser a few feet ahead.

One slow and unsteady step at a time, she crept over, dug out the pain meds, and watched a sheet of paper drift to the floor.

Water, she needed water to swallow the pills. Turning around, she retraced her steps to the bathroom, popped three pills into her mouth and then cupped the water, bringing it to her face and swallowing the pain relief meds. She only hoped it worked.

In the mirror she could see the bags under her eyes, probably from a lack of sleep.

Her dress was the same from last night, the one guaranteed to make Brad trip over his tongue.

Where were her pajamas? Looking around, where were her clothes?

Her suitcase? And why was she here? Squeezing her eyes, she just couldn’t remember what happened after she’d walked into the club, ordered a drink, and sat alone at a table. Yes, she was alone. At first.

Lord, she was so confused. Making her way back to the bed, her gaze drifted to the paper on the ground.

Had that been in her purse? Was it here when she checked in?

No point in asking herself questions she couldn’t answer.

She leaned over, immediately regretting the roil in her stomach and shooting pain between her eyes, and snatched hold of the sheet of paper, straightened, and squinted to read.

Jacqueline,

I brought you here from Bronco’s Lounge because I didn’t know where you live.

If you need a ride to your car– call me at 432-555-2236–

If not, take care,

Garret Sweet

That’s right. The flashing sign was for the Bronco Lounge.

But who was Garret? Did she need him to give her a ride?

Would it matter if he saw her in the same dress as last night?

Last night? Her breath caught in her chest, her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened.

Good grief, surely she hadn’t. She couldn’t have.

Could she? No, if anything had happened between her and Garret, wouldn’t he still be here instead of leaving her a note?

Definitely no. Whoever this person was, the note sounded like nothing more than a concerned citizen. After all, if there had been a one nightstand, the guy would have run as far and fast as he could. Now she had a new question to ask herself—should she call and get a ride to her car?

If Garret had gotten an hour’s sleep last night, it was a lot. The people in the room behind his headboard had hacked up a lung well into the early morning hours, and the room with Jacqueline had been completely silent. Until now.

At first he wasn’t sure where the footsteps had come from, but then he heard a toilet flush, water run, and more footsteps.

She was awake. He’d wait for her to have enough time to read the note, then if she didn’t need a ride to her car, he’d go home to his chores.

Walk away and never think back on the woman in the next room.

What he didn’t know, was how long was long enough.

Glancing at the old-fashioned alarm clock on the nightstand, it was a little after ten in the morning.

Less than an hour until check out. That’s what he would do, wait till it was time to check out.

That was reasonable. Of course, since he’d never had to take a perfect stranger home without any clue of where she lived, who knew what was reasonably a long enough wait.

Wishing he had a toothbrush, he pushed up from the bed, headed for the bathroom, rinsed his mouth out with water, and finger combed his hair.

It would have to do. A light rapping on the door startled him.

Was it her? Maybe it was a maid, wanting to clean the room.

Or someone warning him of upcoming check out time.

Or perhaps he should just open the door and find out.

Taking larger than usual strides, he pulled the door open.

Her eyes not fully open, Jacqueline seemed to be focusing on his face. Or thinking.

He wasn’t quite sure. “Morning.”

“Oh.” Now her eyes were wide open. “Good morning.”

“Would you like to come in?” He stepped to one side and opened the door enough for her to easily enter the room.

“Actually.” She seemed to be considering her words carefully.

“I checked with the front desk about my bill. They said it was paid and that you had the room next to mine.” Her gaze dropped a moment before she found the nerve to look him in the eye again.

“I’m here to take you up on that offer to pick up my car. ”

“Oh, yes. Sure. Of course.” Crossing the room in a few long strides, he grabbed his keys from the nightstand and slid into his loafers. Turning and dangling the keys in the air, he smiled. “Let’s go.”

The smile must have been the right thing to do. For a second, surprise flashed in her eyes just before her own slight smile teased at her lips. “Thank you.”

Settled in the car, unlike last night, she easily managed to snap her seat belt in place.

Hands folded in her lap, her gaze remained fixed on the road.

Hands resting in her lap like an obedient schoolgirl shouldn’t be enough, but everything about her timid and quiet behavior screamed at him that she was what his Gramma Davis would call a good girl.

That made him glad he’d done what he’d done.

Taken the chance he’d taken bringing her, not exactly against her will, but definitely without her consent.

“Is it far?” she dared to glance in his direction. “My car?”

He shook his head. “Millers Creek is bigger than Honeysuckle, but not by much.”

“Honeysuckle?”

“The town where I live. Little less than an hour away as the crow flies.”

“Ah.”

The first red light seemed to be interminable. So much so that he actually wondered if it might be broken. At the same moment the light changed, Jacqueline’s stomach grumbled.