Calder Storm (Calder Saga 10)

“Later,” Trey called and waved the group on their way, then redirected his attention to Sloan. “The invitation didn’t appeal to me, either.”

“It wasn’t that so much,” she said. “It’s just that if I want to be bright-eyed for tomorrow, it’s time I called it a night.”

The instant the words came out of her mouth, Trey knew there was nothing he wanted more than to go somewhere quiet, away from the blaring music, the laughter and loudness of half-drunk voices, with no one else around but the two of them.

“I’d better walk you to your car—just to play it safe,” he told her.

Offering no objection, she gestured in a southerly direction. “My car’s parked that way.”

Chapter Three

Someone called to Trey as they approached the corner of a barricaded side street. He acknowledged the greeting with a lift of his head and continued.

“A lot of people here know you,” Sloan observed, studying him with a sidelong glance.

“Most of them are friends or neighbors,” Trey replied in easy dismissal, then explained. “My family owns a ranch north of here.”

“For some reason I keep forgetting that you’re not a stranger to the area like me,” she admitted with a touch of chagrin.

The subject was dropped as they came under the scrutiny of two uniformed officers checking to make sure they weren’t leaving the cordoned area with any open containers. The delay was a brief one.

Passing the barricades, they entered the side street, the bright lights and noise fading behind them. But the privacy that Trey had hoped to find wasn’t there, as he spotted the shadowy figures of a half dozen others, traveling singly or in pairs along the street in search of their vehicles.

His eyes took in the clean lines of Sloan’s profile and the faint impression of a smile that edged her mouth. “So what did you think of your first street dance?” he asked idly.

Her smile widened into a definite curve. “It was a little crazy and a lot loud. Quite honestly, I’ve never seen so many people intent on having fun and not caring one bit how ridiculous they looked to others in the process.” After a slight pause, she added, “I am a little disappointed that I didn’t see any fights. According to the desk clerk, brawls aren’t uncommon.”

“They used to be,” Trey agreed, recalling a few of the ones his sister had caused in her teen years, not to mention the black eyes and split lips he’d suffered coming to her rescue. “But there are a lot more cops on duty now. As soon as they see a quarrel start, they step in and break it up before it can escalate into a fight.”

Just ahead a couple stood next to a pickup parked at the curb, arguing over who would drive it. The woman insisted her companion was too drunk to be at the wheel, and the man naturally took exception to that. The issue wasn’t revolved by the time Trey and Sloan passed them.

“If I was a betting man, I’d put my money on the woman,” Trey remarked in a low voice as they crossed an intersection.

“She sounded determined, didn’t she?” Sloan agreed.

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“My car’s parked over there.” She pointed across the street to a compact sedan sandwiched between two pickups.

With no traffic moving in either direction, Trey guided her across the street, cutting an angle to her car. Keys jangled from the ring Sloan pulled out of her jacket pocket. A jaw muscle tightened in irritation when Trey noticed two cowboys strolling none too steadily toward them.

Sloan unlocked the driver’s door and turned to face him, but Trey never gave her a chance to utter any parting words. Instead he spoke first.

“My truck’s parked around the corner. Give me a minute to walk to it, and I’ll follow you to the motel.” He reached around her and opened the car door, then advised, “Be sure you lock it after you get in.”

“I always do.” The easy assurance in her voice let him know that she was accustomed to taking such precautions, suggesting it was far from the first time she had traveled alone.

After she was settled behind the wheel, Trey pushed the door shut and waited those few extra seconds to hear the click of the door lock. He saw the look of amusement she gave him over the fact that he had lingered. At the same time, he realized how thoroughly she had aroused all of his protective instincts.

Trey had time to think about a lot of things during the drive to the motel. And every one of them revolved around Sloan. There was an awareness of the scant amount of personal information they had exchanged, most strikingly their last names.

For Trey, there had been a natural reluctance to bring up the Calder name and encounter that sudden avid gleam that inevitably followed. As for Sloan, he could only suppose the reason was the hesitance of a woman alone to share too many personal details with a man who was virtually a stranger.

He had an intense desire to know every single thing about her. No detail seemed too trivial. Yet, at the same time, he had a feeling that the minute she turned those dark blue eyes on him, he wouldn’t care about any of them. That knowledge rattled him a little—that, and the realization that no other woman he’d met had ever affected him this way.

When they arrived at the motel, Trey wasted no time moving to her side. He caught a glimpse of the sharp-eyed night clerk taking note of their passage as they crossed the lobby. The minute they turned into the softly lit corridor, a hot tension gripped him, knotting everything inside him.

“Have you made any plans for tomorrow?” He heard the ring of demand in his voice and shot a quick look at Sloan, but she didn’t appear to have noticed.