Hiding in Plain Sight by J.A. Hornbuckle Read Free Book Online

stopped to help a stranded motorist.
     
    *.*.*.*.*
    I woke up in a foul mood, which was probably a carry-over from the argument of the night before when I'd found he'd only gotten us a double room. 
    A double room with a king-size bed. 
    Even though I had been tired and saddle-sore, or maybe because I was tired and saddle-sore, I let him have it with both barrels.  I yelled about his high-handed ways, his demands, and his constant questions.  I called him names, awful names.  I shouted again and again that he was not my keeper, that I didn't need his help. 
    All through my one-sided argument, he'd calmly removed his jacket, boots and socks before whipping off the bedspread and stretching out on the bed, one muscled arm behind his head with one foot still on the floor.  He watched me, his eyes following me as I paced and ranted.  I was bending over him, a hand on a hip, the other pointed in his face when he ended the argument in his own plain-speaking, succinct way.
    "I do not want to fuck you, Reese," he said slowly as he grabbed my finger and moved it aside.
    Wait…what?
    The abrupt change in the conversation, disrupting my temper tantrum, must've shown on my face.
    "Do what you need to do before sleep and get into bed.  We only have a few hours before we leave again," he murmured, his face expressionless.
    Whoa.  I hadn't even gone down the whole 'this man wants to do me' road when I'd been yelling.  It hadn't really even crossed my mind.  Sure, I was attracted to him, but sex was the last thing in my head.  I was, I admit, only pissed because I hadn't gotten a say in the decision regarding the room. Which may have been my last resistance to me buying in to the notion he was going to really help me escape.
    Man, did I feel stupid.
    It wasn't until I was clinging to the edge of the bed, trying to stay as far away from him as possible that I realized I was a little bit hurt.  He didn't want me like that, not like a hot guy would want a hot girl.  But I was hot.  I'd been told I was one of the best looking girls in our town.  Even the man I was running from called me beautiful.
    But Bayco didn't want me.
    I reviewed the day we'd spent together and saw that he'd never done the stuff I knew men do when they're interested in a woman.  In fact, if it wasn't for the crazy eye stares, he treated me like an extended family member.  Although, he had said my hair was beautiful when we'd been at that truck stop.
    I shifted on the bed, trying to get comfortable in both body and thoughts.  I knew he hadn't seen me at my best, more like a ratty mess with an attitude to match, but I wasn't a complete cave-girl.  I could clean up to confidently call myself passably-pretty.  But I was a live, breathing female with more curves than most. 
    Why didn't he want me? 
    It didn't make a lick of sense.  The worrying on it and him followed me down into sleep, creating a different level of both mad and hurt, which may or may not have contributed to the following morning.
    I hadn't really planned to take off. 
    It was just an opportunity I couldn't pass up after I'd finally become fully awake in the shower.  He'd said something about going to get breakfast and it occurred to me that it was the perfect chance for the dynamic duo to part ways. 
    I quickly dressed and pulled my still damp hair in a ponytail before adding a plain baseball cap.  With my heavy backpack, purse draped in the cross-body position and sunglasses in hand, I made short work of leaving the small motel.  I didn't know where exactly I was going to go; I just didn't want to be around when he got back.  I know I stood on the sidewalk, watching the vehicles pass, for a while.  I just didn't know which direction to go.
    The road our motel was on seemed to be the main drag in town and, as such, had a fair amount of traffic.  I saw a lot of pickups, that I took to be the local's preferred mode of transportation.  It was the huge semi-trucks that interested