He slowly releases me and presses his lips together. “You’re not alone. You have me.”

I look at him hesitantly. “I do?”

“Absolutely.” He nods sincerely. “I’m so sorry about your mom, though. That’s awful.”

I nod and try to break up the tension. “I’m sorry about your Porsche.”

He softly laughs. “Monique.”

I wrinkle my nose. “What?”

“That was my car’s name.” He nods. “Monique.”

“You named your car?”

“Yep.”

I sniff. “You’re weird.”

“I am.” He nods once. “Have you eaten yet?”

I shake my head.

“Can I make something for you?” He pulls back to look at me. “I want to feed you.”

I nod. “Sure.”

Turning away, he starts grabbing ingredients from the fridge and knives from the butcher block. I’m not sure if we’re exactly on full speaking terms yet, so I don’t ask any questions. But he looks so happy, moving around a kitchen. It’s kind of adorable.

For the next half hour, Daren skitters about the kitchen and whips up a gourmet lunch of prime rib sandwiches and a strawberry fields salad. Mable scolds him a few times for getting in her way or using too much salt, but I see the amusement in her eyes. She likes that Daren enjoys cooking.

When he’s finished, Daren makes plates for Ellen, Mable, and me, then insists on watching as we take our first bites. It’s so delicious that I make an orgasmic noise. Daren’s eyebrows raise in appreciation. “You like it that much?”

I nod. “Oh yeah.”

“Good.” He smiles at me, but then looks unsure. We’re not totally broken anymore but we’re not yet healed either.

“This is incredible. I had no idea you were skilled in the kitchen, Daren,” Ellen says, swallowing a bite. “Now that Pixie’s gone, I’m looking for a prep cook, you know. It might be time to change your job title.” She smiles.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say Daren was blushing. “I don’t know. I’m not that great. Cooking is just something I do for fun.”

Mable makes a noise of approval. “This sandwich is pretty great.”

“We’ll talk,” Ellen says to Daren. “When you come in for your shift on Monday, we’ll talk.”

He nods. “Okay.”

She adds, “And hey, maybe you can bring Kayla back with you on Monday to help serve lunch.”

It’s suddenly awkward, since neither of us knows what’s going to happen between us later today, let alone on Monday.

“Yeah, maybe,” he says, glancing at me. Then he makes an excuse to leave the kitchen and quickly darts away. I stare at my food for a minute, confused and wishing we could just fix things between us, then decide to go for a walk to clear my head.

Leaving the kitchen, I head for the lobby, hoping I don’t bump into Daren. Just as I reach the front desk, where Ellen is staring at something on a computer, the inn’s front door bursts open.

“Frankly, I’m impressed we made it this far without me killing you,” says a pretty girl with long, black hair and tattoos covering her arms as she carries in a duffle bag that looks too big and masculine to be her own. She looks vaguely familiar.

The guy behind her grins. “What’s with all the death threats? Is that how you handle all of life’s problems? By committing murder?” He’s handsome and looks like downright trouble.

His dark hair is almost as black and the girl’s, but where her eyes are golden and sharp, his eyes are gray and playful. I know I’ve seen the girl before, somewhere.

Dropping the duffle bag, she spins around and sneers, looking up and down his tall body. “Just the really big ones.”

Oh man. She’s clearly attracted to this guy. His smile goes crooked. And wow. He’s knows it.

“First of all, there’s no need to take your frustration out on my luggage.” He points to the bag on the floor then leans down so their faces are close together. “Second, is that your way of telling me I’m big?”

They lock gazes and the air between them sizzles. Good God, there’s a lot of sexual tension in the room.

Ellen, who’s been silently watching from behind the front desk, clears her throat.

“Jenna.” She smiles. “Welcome to the inn. I didn’t know you were stopping by. Pixie’s not here, though.”

Jenna! That’s right. I met her at the Fourth of July Bash at the lake a few weeks ago too.

Jenna whips her eyes to Ellen. “Oh, I’m not here for Pixie,” she says. “I’m here to drop off this bozo”—she points to the handsome guy beside her—“so I can be on my way to New Orleans.”

“Jenna’s not big on road trip buddies,” he explains. “And she has a hard time being enclosed in small spaces with me. I’m Jack, by the way.” He holds out his hand and Ellen slowly shakes it.

Jenna throws her hands up and growls. “You infuriating man.”

He keeps smiling at her. “You’re adorable. I’ll just take my bag back to the car and wait for you until you’re done throwing your temper tantrum.” He nods at Ellen. “It was so nice meeting you.”

Glaring over her shoulder as he leaves, Jenna marches through the lobby and plows right into me.

“Oh! Sorry,” she says, taking a step back. Her face softens when she’s sees me. “Hey, I know you.… Kayla right?” She smiles and all the anger and frustration surrounding her instantly disappears.

I smile. “Yeah. I met you and Sarah—Pixie—Sarah?—at the lake.”

“That’s right. You stopped to ask for directions to Copper Springs.” She adds, “You can call her Pixie, by the way. I do. So what are you doing here?”

“At the moment?” I exhale. “Hiding from a guy.”

She scoffs. “I feel ya. I wish I could hide from that guy.” She tips her chin at the front door and sighs. “But I can’t.”

I nod understandingly. “Because he’s always around?”

“No.” She looks at the door longingly. “Because I don’t want to. Don’t get me wrong, the guy pisses me off and makes me want to pluck my leg hairs out one by one, but…” She shrugs and a hint of a smile pulls at her lips. “He makes things interesting. Honestly, I’d be bored without him.”

Jack pops his head back in the front door and calls out, “I’m ready when you are, Diva!”

Her puppy dog smile is immediately replaced with a look of complete agitation as she whips her head around and yells, “Don’t. Call. Me. DIVA!”

He grins at her. “It never gets old.”

“God!”

He disappears back out the door and she turns back to me, all smiles and goodness again.

“So this boy you’re hiding from,” she says. “Does he make things interesting?”

I think for a moment. We jumped out of a train car, fell down a mudslide, slept in an abandoned house, and showered with handcuffs on—and all in the last seventy-two hours.

“Yes,” I say. “He’s the most interesting thing that’s ever happened to me.”

She smiles. “Then what are you hiding from?”

36 Daren

With carefully planned routes through the inn, I manage to avoid Kayla for most of the day. It’s not that I don’t like to see her—I very much enjoy looking at her. But I just don’t know what to say to her. I loved feeding her, but she was so sad about everything she’d learned about her mom that I felt like drudging up any issue she and I have would have been petty.

I need to say sorry but sorry has never come easy for me, especially when it comes to girls. I’ve never really put much effort into making up with members of the opposite sex. Once they burn me, I typically back off so I can’t get burned again. It’s a rule of mine and, up until three days ago, it worked flawlessly.

But for some reason my chest just won’t seem to loosen up with all this guilt and gloom. I can walk away from any girl anywhere, but not Kayla.

The sound of jingling keys meets my ears and I turn to see Ellen approaching the front desk, where I’ve been restacking printing paper for the past ten minutes.

She smiles. “The repair guy towed Kayla’s car to Latecomers and gave it a jump, so it should be working now. I’m going to grab Kayla and we’ll meet you outside. You ready to go?”