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He smiles at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Is it better than you fancy breakfasts? Are you longing for a mimosa?”
“Don't knock it till you try it. One thing wealthy people know is when to drink.”
“All the time,” he quips.”
“I guess I’m learning to understand the meaning behind the phrase money can’t buy happiness.”
“I thought money couldn’t buy love,” he teases, those blue eyes twinkling.
“That either,” I laugh. “There's a certain charm to this place. It's like a little oasis in the middle of nowhere.”
He takes a sip of his coffee. “I think there is a something very authentic about a truck stop breakfast.”
“Are you telling me this would be your choice?”
“Absolutely,” he nods. “I like the idea of eating to enjoy the meal without worrying about what everyone is wearing or what they might tell their friends.
"It's refreshing," I agree, feeling a sense of peace wash over me. "No fuss, no pretense. Just good food and good company."
He smiles at me, and I can't help but feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. With him, in this moment, at this truck stop. The world outside might be chaos, but for now, we had each other. My life in LA is in the rearview mirror. I’ll never shop on Rodeo Drive again. I’ll never get to wear designer clothes and spend summers in Cabo and winters in Aspen. I’ve walked into a whole new life. It’s unfamiliar and terrifying, but I want it. I’m okay with simple.
“Drink your orange juice,” he says. “You need a good meal. The crap we’ve been eating on the road isn’t exactly healthy.”
I smile and pick up the glass of orange juice. “Yes, sir.”
He leans forward. “I plan on using that very fine body at our next hotel. You need your nutrients.”
He winks at me, and I can't help but blush. We've been through so much together in such a short amount of time. The adrenaline from the escape is starting to wear off, but the excitement of the unknown still lingers. We're a team now,
He snatches a piece of sausage and chews while looking over my shoulder. His sudden tension doesn't go unnoticed. I follow his gaze, noting the two men at a nearby table, their eyes flickering in our direction with a hint of curiosity.
They aren’t familiar, but Hunter is tense. I can see it in the set of his shoulders. “What’s wrong?” I ask him.
It’s crazy how well I’ve come to know him after just a couple of days. I feel like our minds, bodies and souls are connected. I know when he’s tense. I know when he's worried. I can feel it in my bones.
He sighs, releasing some of the tension. "It's just the two men over there. Something about them makes me uneasy. I don't know. Maybe I'm just being paranoid."
I give him a reassuring smile. "It's okay to be cautious, you know. We're on our own out here, and you've helped me stay alive, so trust your instincts. You've got a good nose for danger, Hunter. But I think we’re safe here. We lost them. They can’t possibly know where we are.”
He nods and takes another bite. His eyes look over my shoulder. I’m already so tired of running. Maybe it’s wishful thinking we lost my pursuers. I don’t want to know what he sees. I don’t want him to tell me we’re in danger yet again.
“Hunter?”
He leans in close. "We need to go, now," he whispers, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“Really?”
He nods, putting down his fork. “It’s not the same guys, but they are definitely watching us.”
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“Yes.”
"When I say run, run for the car and don't stop," he instructs, his eyes locked on mine with a fierce intensity that leaves me breathless. “Do you hear me?”
“Hunter—’
“Paige, I’m not playing. We are going to get up and try to walk out of here, but if I tell you to go, I need you to go. Do you understand?”
