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“I kinda thought so. Living in a motel but got thousand-dollar Sophia Webster tennis shoes on.” I don’t know what the hell June is going on about, but I’m impressed with how observant she is. She should really pursue a career in law enforcement. She would make a killer detective.
“Sophia Webster what?”
June waves her hand. “All her stuff. It’s expensive.”
“Well—” I stop speaking when Paisley returns.
My eyes drop to those damn jean shorts showing off her full thighs. My mouth goes dry. The girl is shaped like a woman. Most of the women that run in the elite circles that she does are rail thin. I bet Paisley stood out in that crowd.
“I guess I’m ready,” she singsongs. Her eyes are glassy. Good. That might make this easier.
“Your tips.” Cole sets a pile of cash on the bar.
“Thanks.” Paisley stuffs it down into her oversized bag.
“Come on, princess.” I take her elbow, not trusting myself to touch her anywhere else. I’ve tried to keep some distance between us, but I always found myself leaning into her to talk, wanting in her personal space. Get another whiff of the sugary strawberry smell that radiates from her.
“Let me find my keys.” Paisley starts digging in her purse, not paying attention to where she’s going or who’s around. A few groups of people are still lingering in the parking lot talking and drinking beers.
“Night, Jackson,” I hear a female call.
“You’re popular with the ladies.” Paisley almost slips on the gravel, but I wrap my arm around her waist, gripping her hip. “Oops.” A giggle pops from her. “You’re handy. I’m always tripping. My mother says I have two left feet and no center of gravity. She swears if I lost a few pounds then maybe I wouldn’t be so clumsy.”
Irritation digs into me. I sink my fingers into her hip, loving how soft she is compared to me. “Don’t think your mother knows what she’s talking about.”
“Don’t tell her that.” An adorable snort comes from her.
“Paisley!” Elliot, the owner and manager of the Crescent Motel, comes walking quickly out of the lobby entry. Perfect timing.
“We have an issue that is urgent. We need to get you moved out of your room.”
“What?” She stops walking.
“There are some pipes leaking, and they need to rip out one of your walls to get to it.”
“Right now?” She scrunches her nose.
“Yes, we had to shut the water off. They need to repair the leak and let everything dry out.” I can’t believe this is what Elliot came up with, but it’s what I have to work with.
“Okay, do I move rooms?”
“I’m sorry, we don’t have any other rooms.”
“What?” She reaches over, absently gripping the front of my shirt. “But where will I go?” There’s a hint of panic in her voice now, which I hate. I don’t want her to feel scared, but the end goal justifies the means.
“There is a hotel in Benton.”
“Isn’t that like thirty miles away?”
“I’ve got her, Elliot.” I cut in before he comes up with a worse lie, knowing if Paisley really thinks on it, she’ll start asking questions. “Come on. Let’s get your things.”
“But—”
“I got you.” Her bottom lip puffs out. I want to lean down and suck on it. The fuck is wrong with me? Controlling my desires has never been an issue. Not even when I was a teen.
She slips her key into the door. When I hear her sniffle, it’s like a knife to my gut. At this moment, I know that I’ll do whatever I can so she never has to feel this way again. “Princess, you’re all right. You’ll come home with me. I’ve got more than enough space.”
“Home with you?” I reach down and finish unlocking the door for her, pushing it open. “You’re a boy. I can’t stay with you.”
