And here were the words. The ones he couldn’t believe he was about to utter but… “I would suggest calling the cops. The local sheriff is surprisingly adequate.” He reached for her hands. Closed his fingers around her wrists and…
Heat slid up from his fingertips. He frowned but didn’t pry her hands from his shirt.
“Don’t turn me over to the cops!”
Interesting word choice from his mystery lady.
“Please…” She looked over her shoulder once more. She kept doing that, as if she feared that someone had followed her. But no one else had entered the bar. “I just need a ride. Take me out of here. Act like—act like we’re together.”
A sigh slipped from Remy. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that strangers can be dangerous? You should not approach them. You should not ask for rides from them.” He considered the matter. “I think you’re also not supposed to take candy from them.”
Her head whipped back toward him. Those deep, deep green eyes locked on him. Such big eyes.
“I don’t have candy,” he murmured. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Are you dangerous?” she squeaked.
Ah, well, at least she’d paid attention to that part of his little speech. “In so many wonderful ways, yes.” A thousand times, yes.
The mystery lady immediately freed him. She stepped back. Shoved her hands behind her body.
Fabulous. Now they were making real progress. He pointed to the oblivious Rodney. “He has a phone behind the counter. Call the sheriff.” There. Remy had done his due diligence. Time to be on his merry way back to his cabin in the woods. Except…
He plucked the second leaf from her hair and put it on the table. He also didn’t leave.
She swallowed and made no move to approach Rodney as he continued to watch his game. “Please.” Barely a breath. “I just need to disappear for tonight. Just one night, that’s all I’m asking.”
Do not do this… “And you want to disappear with me?” Her skin was truly lovely, and she had amazing bone structure. Not conventionally pretty, but something so much more. Arresting. No, entrancing. There was something about the way her features flowed together…
I want to paint her. No, more than that. I need to paint her.
Remy stiffened as the thought registered.
“Look, it’s not like I have a whole lot of choice.” Now she sounded disgruntled. “You’re the only guy with a ride.”
Not true. “I’m sure Rodney has a vehicle out back.” It was actually a bicycle, but that still counted as a vehicle, didn’t it?
Her lush lips pressed into a line. Then, she said, “If I ask for his help, your friend Rodney will probably call the sheriff you keep talking about.”
“Oh, that’s quite possible. Especially since they’re brothers. And he’s not my friend. We’re barely acquaintances.” He liked Rodney’s bar because Rodney didn’t give a shit about him. Rodney didn’t ask questions, and Remy didn’t have to deal with a crowd when he came to the bar.
A gasp tore from her. “Brothers?” She turned to run—
But he caught her hand. Easily, casually, he pulled her back toward him. Remy also noticed that she didn’t try to resist his pull at all. “Have we been involved in something illegal tonight? Not judging, mind you. I’m just vaguely curious.” More than vaguely.
“I haven’t done anything illegal!”
“That’s disappointing.” Until that low but passionate response, she’d been livening up his night. At her frown, Remy continued, “Oh, sorry, I guess I was judging.” A little illegal fun would have amped up the stakes.
A furrow lingered between her delicate brows even as she wet her lips. A quick, nervous swipe of her pink tongue. “I really, really need a ride.” She trembled again. “I can’t be found. I can’t.”
Fear seemed to roll from her. He could feel her pulse racing beneath his touch as his fingers circled her wrist. A delicate wrist. Fragile. Too easily broken. As were so many things in this world. “What’s your name?” Why had he asked? He didn’t care.
“Jacqueline.” A slow exhale. “Jacqueline Peters.”
He liked her name. Jacqueline. Elegant. Classic. Remy peered down at her bare feet.
“It’s been an incredibly bad night,” she confessed as her shoulders hunched. “I hitchhiked almost to town, but the truck driver wasn’t coming to Halfway, so he had to let me out.”
“You hitchhiked…” His lips wanted to curl. “In a wedding dress?”
“I—it’s…It’s not—”
“Guessing it looked better before you ripped the hem out of it and lost nearly all the pearls that had been around the front?” He could still see one or two pearls dangling, as if they were holding on for dear life.
Her lower lip trembled. Her eyes filled with tears.
Shocked, oddly horrified, Remy immediately dropped his hold on her hand. “Don’t do that.”
“What?” Jacqueline sniffed.
Cry. Do not cry. “Get all watery.”
“What?” She swiped her hand over her cheek where—sure enough, she’d teared up. “Do you mean cry? Did you just tell me not to cry?”
“I did, yet you are.” He snagged an ancient napkin from the middle of his table and stuffed it into her hand. “I would appreciate it if you would stop doing that.” Because now his chest felt uncomfortably tight, and surely that was not a conscience trying to rear its head inside of him?
Usually, his conscience was dead quiet on most things. But, with her…
I don’t like her tears.
“It’s been an incredibly stressful forty-eight hours for me, okay? I can’t help it.” She dabbed at her eyes.
“Fuck.” There was no choice. He was going to do this…
She peeked at him from beneath the napkin.
“I will give you a ride,” Remy heard himself say.
She hurtled herself at him. Remy grunted at the impact because he had not been expecting her to hit him with the force of a mini tornado. For someone seemingly so delicate, she had a very strong grip.
“Thank you.” A heartfelt sigh of gratitude. “You have saved my life.”
His hands hovered in the air. Was he supposed to hug her in return? Give her a reassuring pat on the back?
Grab her tight and not let go?
Whoa. That last thought had come out of nowhere and was absolutely not the right response in this situation. So Remy went with option two. His left hand awkwardly patted her on the back. “There, there.” That seemed appropriate enough. “Though, I hardly think a ride equals a life-saving deed.”
Her head lifted. Tear drops clung to her long lashes. “It does to me.”
Uh, huh. “Were you this grateful to the truck driver?”
She still held him. Still gazed up at Remy with her desperate gaze. “Even more so. He got me out of—” Jacqueline stopped. Didn’t tell him exactly what she’d gotten out of, before adding, “So I paid him with the ring. I didn’t want it, and he’d been so kind that it was the least I could do.” She swallowed and seemed to finally realize that she was gripping Remy too tightly. That her body had pressed closely to his.