“Then that’s where we’ll go.”
“And after that?” She liked the sound of we way too much. She reminded herself he wasn’t her boyfriend. He was the man sent to kidnap her.
Murphy bent to pick up their bags, swinging them over his right shoulder as he pulled her toward him with his other hand. “Let’s see where we end up, okay? We’ll talk about it over breakfast. I need some energy.”
“Okay.” She walked ahead of him and unlocked the door. The bright white landscape blinded her momentarily when she pulled it open. With everything that had happened last night, she’d somehow forgotten the reason they’d stayed. She supposed she should be grateful for the snow. If it hadn’t landed so thick and fast, she’d be halfway to Boston by now, and Murphy would still be planning on handing her over to David.
What a difference a few hours had made.
Wrapping her thin jacket around her, she stepped aside to let him past, pulling the door closed behind him. He grabbed her hand and led her over to his SUV, opening the trunk to throw their luggage inside. Rachel stared at the footprints they’d made in the virgin snow and wondered what the hell Buddy would think when he saw them. Would he know she’d gone willingly, from the way they were clear and defined, and not drag marks across the white? Or would that only make him worry more?
Would the prints even be there when Buddy arrived?
Murphy pulled the car door open and helped her in. He climbed behind the wheel.
“You ready?” he questioned, and she nodded in silent assent. He shifted the stick into drive, pressing his foot gingerly down on the gas. The car slowly moved forward, carving out tracks in the fresh snow. Rachel craned her head, allowing herself a final glance back, trying to memorize the faded sign and the peeling paint on the wall. Snow glistened as it stuck to the dirty windows of the bar, making her eyes sting from the bright whiteness of it all.
Murphy turned onto the main Hillbrook Road, keeping his speed even and steady, feeling confident enough to hold the wheel with one hand as he reached down to squeeze her thigh with the other.
Rachel let a small smile tug at her lips. They were driving through Main Street, and the snow on the roofs lent the buildings a fairy tale edge. It was early morning after a storm, and the only evidence of life in the streets were the tiny footprints of critters in search of somewhere safe to hide.
Just like her.
r /> When they reached the edge of town, he gained a little more power, the engine roaring under the pressure of his foot. Murphy reached into the pocket on the door and pulled out a pair of sunglasses, lifting them on to his face to shade the glare.
She missed his eyes already.
A sudden thought overtook her. “I haven’t got any money with me. I’m not sure I can even pay for my breakfast.”
Murphy grunted. “My treat.”
Rachel wanted to laugh. In another time and another place, this would be like the drive of shame—the morning after, when a one night stand blurs into an embarrassed breakfast. Part of her liked the thought that, despite the crazy way they’d hooked up, there was still something a little traditional about the way they behaved.
Normal.
She liked the word too much.
“I eat a lot. Just so you know.” She glanced sideways at him, noticing the way his lips curled up.
“You don’t look like you do.” He ran a finger down her thigh and made her shiver. “All that food and not an inch of spare fat.”
What a sweet-talking liar he was.
She tried to catch her breath, looking out of the window at the snow-laden trees lining the road. They were driving east toward Mayville, the last town before the highway, and each turn of the wheel made her feel more apprehensive. She picked at the skin around her thumb, wondering what happened after breakfast and where he was planning to go.
Was he planning on taking her with him?
They sat in silence, broken only by the thrum of the engine and the banging sound of wind against the car. Her breathing was sounding ragged to her own ears.
“I need a fucking coffee.” Murphy’s mutter came out of nowhere. It made her want to laugh.
“You’re a caffeine addict?” Rachel bit down a laugh. She wasn’t so hooked, could take or leave it. Hearing him articulate his craving was cute.
“Class A. I need it more than oxygen.”
“I could have made you a cup this morning.” She didn’t tell him she only had the cheapest instant granules. The half-empty jar had been languishing in her kitchen cupboard for months. “You must have found it hard to get out of bed.”
“Yup. It was pretty hard to pull myself away from you.” He spun the wheel, maneuvering the car around the last corner before Mayville.