Page 41 of The Law of Attraction
“How would Triple A even find us if we were off hiding in some ramshackle barn?” he mused as he peered out the window at the inky darkness.
Olivia’s mouth was dry, and when she spoke the words came out in a hoarse whisper. “They wouldn’t.”
He nodded. “We’re better off staying here in the car.”
“It’s the safest thing to do.” She uncapped her water bottle and took a long drink.
“Definitely.”
“Yep.” Her thumbnail scraped at the label on the bottle. “We’ll just…stay here.”
They both fell silent as they stared straight ahead at the rain battering the windshield. Tiffany’s “I Think We’re Alone Now” came on the radio, and it felt way too pointed, like some higher power was looking down on them and laughing, but Olivia couldn’t make herself reach for the radio to change it. The air in the car felt too heavy, like it was pressing down on her. Pinning her to her seat. Her wet clothes clung to her skin like adhesive tape under Adam’s hoodie as his scent twined around her.
He cleared his throat, and she tensed.
“Are there any more Beaver Nuggets?”
Chapter Nine
It only took the wrecker forty-five minutes to get to them. Good thing, because Olivia’s phone was running low on battery by then. When she’d gotten tired of reading her social media accounts, she’d resorted to playing Candy Crush, which she’d forgotten she still had on her phone.
The rain had stopped, thank god. Olivia was halfway to being dry after their earlier soaking, and she didn’t relish the idea of getting drenched again.
There was a small cargo space in the cab of the tow truck, behind the seats. It was just big enough to fit their suitcases. The tow truck only had two seats, but the console lifted up to provide an uncomfortable-looking platform for a third person to sit.
As the smallest, Olivia assumed the middle seat would fall to her, and she resigned herself to spending the drive pressed up against their wrecker driver, Wes. But Adam stopped her when she tried to climb into the cab ahead of him, and took the uncomfortable middle seat for himself.
She felt guilty as she watched him try to fold his long legs into the cramped space under the dash, but also grateful. Wes seemed perfectly nice, albeit in a part-time motorcycle gang member sort of way, but as a rule, Olivia didn’t love being pressed up against strange men in tight quarters.
It was chivalrous of Adam to take the hit for her. More than chivalrous. It showed a greater degree of empathy and concern for her comfort than she’d known he was capable of.
Once he’d gotten himself settled in the middle seat, Olivia climbed in and fastened her seat belt, trying very hard not to touch Adam’s butt in the process. Which turned out to be completely impossible, since her seat belt was basically under his butt.
“Sorry,” she said, flinching like she’d been shocked when the back of her hand grazed his haunch.
“Here, let me help.”
Adam wrapped his hand around hers and guided her seat belt into the latch wedged between them.
Dirty thoughts flitted through her mind as the two pieces clicked together. Never mind that they were in a tow truck that smelled like Funyuns and motor oil, while a guy in dirty coveralls winched up their poor Honda Fit behind them. Suddenly she was thinking about seat belt latches as a metaphor for male and female sexual organs, and how Adam’s hand was so big it completely covered hers, and what that might say about the size of other parts of his anatomy.
It was a relief when Wes finally climbed in the truck, distracting her from her dirty train of thought. Wes was in no way a small man, and his presence made things even more cramped. Adam was forced to lean toward Olivia in order to give Wes room to work the gearshift.
Adam was tilted at almost a twenty-degree angle, his shoulder crushed up against hers and their heads practically touching. It probably would have been easier and more comfortable for both of them if he’d just put his arm around her, but no way in fresh hell was she going to suggest it.
Country music poured out of the speakers when Wes started up the engine, and she saw Adam wince. Without thinking, she put her hand on his thigh to give him a sympathetic pat.
In her defense, his leg was pressed up against her leg, and her hand had already been resting on her own thigh, only a couple inches from his, so it wasn’t like it had far to go.
Adam’s gaze slid over to her, his brows slightly raised in amusement, and she snatched her hand back in embarrassment.
After that, Olivia kept her hands clasped in her lap like a prim schoolgirl for the remainder of the ride.
Wes dropped them off at the nearest motel, which was just down the road from the auto shop where he was taking their car. When the garage opened in the morning, they’d be able to walk there to pick up their car after the tire had been replaced.
The Budget Motel was a dreary-looking place sandwiched between an RV park and a medical supply store. It reminded Olivia a little too much of the Bates Motel for her comfort. The parking lot was poorly lit and mostly empty except for a few eighteen-wheelers and pickup trucks.
The inside of the motel wasn’t much more reassuring. The walls were covered in fake wood paneling, the carpet was stained, and the ceiling was discolored from old water damage.
