Don't Judge (Nothing Special 4)

“Too grimy for you?” Judge laughed.

“I don’t give a damn. I could sleep in a doghouse with Bookem right about now, as long as I’m not interrupted for at least four hours.”

This guy was actually starting to ease off Judge’s shit list to his smart-ass list. “Never know in this place. Usually there’s some kind of mayhem in the middle of the night.”

“Well if my hand goes under my pillow, they’ll wish they’d stayed quiet.”

So he also sleeps with his gun under his head too.

Judge removed his leathers; they were never comfortable to sleep in and pulled out a pair of track pants from his bag. Bookem sniffed around a bit before he took up his usual spot, directly in front of the door. Not bothering to turn on any lights or try the television, Judge tucked one of his guns under his head and put the other underneath the bed closest to the wall. He leaned back on top of the thin comforter and closed his eyes. His dreams immediately ventured to hot, naked sex with a headstrong detective.

Chapter Fourteen

Michaels was so glad he’d brought his shower shoes, anticipating that they might be using a truck or camp stop to clean up. The shower in their motel was just as dirty as those places were likely to be. He stepped out to dress, trying to keep his eyes from venturing to the deliciously large male specimen still sound asleep in the other bed. Even without all the leather, he was a sight to see. On his back with one hand under his pillow, very close to his own sleeping position. It was the thick, silky, straight black hair the spanned across that broad chest that had Michaels’ mouth watering. Turn and look away, turn and look away. There was no way a guy like Judge was gay. If those dark eyes popped open and caught him gawking, then he was going to have a whole other set of problems.

It was a little after five a.m., they’d need to get on the road soon. They were only a few miles away from the cousin’s house. Showing up early was the best element of surprise. The cousin didn’t work, got disability from a previous warehouse job injury. He could’ve been persuaded to help out a guy on the run for the right fee. Worth a stop to peek in on him. Michaels remembered a quaint diner off the interstate near the motel, he figured Bookem could use a little walk and he could damn sure use some fresh coffee.

The walk was quiet and refreshing. The temperature was still warm in Florida in the early fall. But there was a cool breeze this early, so he and Book enjoyed it. He walked inside, not trusting Bookem outside without a leash. The place was small but thank the heavens it was clean. The older man behind the counter eased back towards a set of double doors that led to the kitchen, his wide eyes focused on the large beast at his side. Michaels pulled out his badge. “Relax, he’s a police dog.”

The guy gripped his chest and stepped back up to the counter. “What the hell happened to regular old German Shepherds?”

“Hell if I know.” Michaels shrugged, looking up at the chalkboard above the counter. “Let me get two large coffees and—” He paused, wondering what Judge liked to eat. The man probably wasn’t picky, living on the road most of his life. “Let me get two bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches.”

“Wanna make it a combo? You’ll get hash browns and a cup of fruit. I just got some fresh cantaloupe in this morning.”

“Sounds good, thanks,” Michaels said. He tossed his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll be right out front.”

Leaning against the side of the building, his head down, thinking what the best approach would be when they got to Switch’s cousin’s house, he hadn’t noticed the tricked-out Cadilliac that turned down their street heading towards their hotel until Bookem growled. Obviously this dog had a great criminal instinct and Michaels knew not to ignore it. “Alright buddy, calm down.” He darted back inside and his order was already in a bag waiting for him.

“I was just getting ready to come out and ask if you needed cream and sugar.” The guy smiled up at him.

“Uh. Just two of each. Thanks.” Michaels let him drop in his condiments and was out the door, throwing a “have a good day” behind him. Bookem looked anxious, but he didn’t leave his side. Michaels hurried his pace back up the street. He could see the hotel parking lot was still mostly empty and he didn’t see the Cadillac. There was only one way in and one way out. So it had to be in the back. Bookem growled again and Michaels wondered what he sensed or heard. They walked past the first set of rooms on the side and that’s when he heard the loud voices. A man and woman. Arguing, cursing. Well, he was cursing and she was crying and pleading. He didn’t turn the corner just yet and Bookem waited quietly by his side. He figured there was no danger, so he came into view just in time to see this guy cock his fist back and level the woman like she was a man.