Page 9 of Allie's Shelter
“Please.” Brave move on his part to choose her aunt’s coffee shop. Sure, it was the best, but it was also the one spot everyone in town visited at some point nearly every day.
Suddenly Allie had one more reason to be grateful her aunt was away on a cruise. The woman wouldn’t be there to pamper and fuss over Ross, or trade theories with the rest of the Haleswood population as to why they were both in town at the same time.
She rattled the shower curtain as she stepped under the hot spray.
“Don’t go anywhere.”
She stuck out her tongue, ridiculously satisfied by the childish move despite the closed door. “Yes, sir,” she called. As if she’d have time to get any kind of head start while he was a block away in a cafe that overlooked the whole street. Still, she hurried to get around before he got back.
Cracking the door, she verified she was alone before stepping out of the bathroom. Her short hair was a boon in a time crunch, she thought, taking the extra few minutes to blow it dry. Her waterfall of long hair had been a source of pride in high school, but she appreciated the sleek femininity of the new bob. Before she could stop herself, she wondered what Ross thought about her new style.
She scolded her errant brain as she returned the hair dryer to the bracket on the wall. It didn’t matter what Ross thought. Once she convinced the sheriff she could be trusted, Ross could go on about his business. Wherever and whatever that might be.
She patted concealer under her eyes and was sweeping mascara over her lashes, determined to make this a normal day, when she caught the deep rumble of a voice outside.
The panic hit hard and fast. Only one way out of this room. Ross had gone for coffee. Alone. He wouldn’t be talking to anyone.
She took a breath, ordering herself to be logical. It could be any other motel guest walking by with a friend or on the phone. She was safe behind a deadbolt. She inched toward the door, closer to that voice, and flipped the swing bar lock into place.
After a moment of eavesdropping, she recognized the timbre and cadence unique to Ross. The relief was an enormous weight off her shoulders, making her feel almost buoyant.
She bounced a bit on her feet and opened the door to welcome him back.
The scene that greeted her threw her taxed emotions into another downward spiral. She pasted a smile on her face as she watched him kiss a beautiful woman with the luxurious dark hair and flawless skin worthy of an exotic Italian contessa.
Allie studied the woman, but this small town had never been home to all that striking beauty. She’d been away, sure, but Aunt Ruth, or a friend, or someone would’ve mentioned the arrival of a woman like this. Whoever she was, she wasn’t the sort to go unnoticed.
Only a take-out tray and the white bag on top of it kept the woman from pressing her curves flush against Ross’s chest. Allie tried to be reasonable, to remember he wasn’t hers. They’d parted as—well, if not friends, at least without bearing grudges. A handsome, homegrown boy, it wasn’t such a stretch that he’d pick up a groupie during a simple breakfast run. But kissing that groupie already? Maybe he really did have other business in town.
He turned his face toward the open door, breaking the kiss. He smiled and held the coffee out to her. “Take this, please? I’ll be right in.”
He put the tray in her hands and pulled the door shut again.
Jerk! He pitched his voice too low, even with her ear pressed to the door, for her to catch his farewell to the other woman.
When she heard the key slide through the lock, she wished she’d thought to throw the deadbolt. With way too much attention to the details so she wouldn’t look at him, she opened the bag and inhaled the divine aroma of biscuits and gravy.
How could he do that? How could he remember her favorite, even hold it in his hands while he kissed another woman?
She shook her head. The more pertinent question was how could her feelings be so intense about him? Ross was a risk, to her heart and her sanity, and her life was too screwed up right now for exploring what might have been.
“Here,” he said, tossing a handful of plastic wrapped cutlery on the table by the window.
“Thanks.” She was pleased her voice sounded steady and calm despite her tumultuous thoughts.
“Have your fill. I’ll eat whatever’s left when I’m out of the shower.”
She enjoyed the view of his long legs and firm butt as he walked away, calling herself all kinds of foolish when she let out a sigh at the sound of the water running. To avoid the mental image of Ross’s hard body sleek with soap and hot water, she forced herself to think of a solution to her immediate dilemma.
She could slip out to the front desk and call a cab. And go where? She’d promised to stay in town. It was probably smarter not to compound her new situation with another crime, or misdemeanor, or whatever they called it when a ‘person of interest’ didn’t obey the order to stick around.
Maybe she should throw herself on the mercy of Sheriff Cochran. He’d known her since she was in diapers, surely he’d listen to her side before he seized the data she’d stolen from her employer.
Allie knew she had a lot to answer for. If there had been another option, a more palatable legal option, she would have happily chosen that route over this chaos. The fear alone was gnawing at her all the time. The nightmares were only one aspect of it.
On paper, Bradley Roberts had made it look like she’d embezzled millions of dollars. In reality, she’d discovered a detrimental report showcasing harmful effects of a new drug along with proof that Robert was taking kickbacks for approval of the new drug and laundering the money through her charity fund in an elaborate scam that would make a Colombian cartel proud.
When she tried to blow the whistle, the people she’d admired and trusted had turned against her, followed her, and ordered someone to kill her. She hugged herself to ward off the ominous chill. There hadn’t been an option beyond stealing the data. Despite what she’d told Ross, money was a problem considering the weird transactions on her account. Coming home, relying on the comfort of people who wouldn’t blindly believe the accusations, had been her only choice.