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She rubbed the back of her neck. Did he think she was blind? After Clint’s death, she had to work hard to maintain the house they’d bought together. Nothing too fancy, but bills piled up and making it on one income proved hard. She’d considered selling the place, although how could she put it on the market without fixing some major problems like a leaky roof, old paint and a few other issues? She lifted her chin. “I have no money,” she said with the pride of someone who bragged about a million-dollar home.
A flicker of concern gleamed in his eyes, and he gave her a slow nod that had her heart beating faster. “I’ll pay for everything. I’ll also pay for the rooms we’re getting tonight at the nearest motel. There ain’t no way we can sleep here… there’s no AC.”
“I’ve been staying here with no AC for two weeks.” She’d lost four pounds in those days due to sweating. The two fans she brought to her crummy room just didn’t do the job and the place felt like a furnace all night long. On her days off, she’d preferred to stay as far from home as possible, sometimes browsing the Walmart aisles despite not buying anything.
“I’m sorry, but we need a good night’s sleep.”
We?Since when were they a we? Hell, she hadn’t been a “we” with Clint. She’d wanted to… but a few months into their marriage he started showing signs of alcoholism—an addiction that never faded away and ended up claiming his life. She should have read the signs, but she’d been a naïve nineteen-year-old. Who got married at nineteen these days? “Why… are you being so nice to me?” Not that he hadn’t in the past, but here he stood in front of her offering to pay her way out of her problems.
He angled closer, his eyes darkening with sadness. “You were good to my son and damn it, I never did anything in return. When he died I was so heartbroken and frustrated over my loss I never stopped to think if you needed anything.”
“Then Dina called you because she found out I have no AC and I wouldn’t take her money?” she said in a lighter tone, swallowing the emotion clogging her throat. Did he know the kind of crappy marriage she’d had with his son? How many times she’d tried to leave but ended up submitting to Clint’s manipulations and staying?
Vincent offered her his hand like they were about to close on a business deal. “She opened my eyes. Will you let me help you so I can move on and not feel like I’ve never done anything nice for my son’s wife?”
* * *
“Two rooms, please.”Vincent asked the clerk who sported an overgrown beard and had an eagle tattooed on his neck.
The clerk nodded, and typed something in the computer. Vincent gave Natalie a quick glance behind his shoulder. She had picked up a brochure to read. His gut clenched—he’d felt awful when he’d entered her place with the key Dina had provided. He’d also assumed his ex-wife had everything under control, but Natalie’s surprised look when she saw him confirmed she’d probably just learned of his imposing visit.
Paying for a room while he fixed the AC was the very least he could do.
The clerk coughed. “Huh… we don’t have two, sir. Just the one.”
Vincent leaned onto the counter. Maybe he heard him wrong. “Come again?”
The clerk, whose nametag said Ted, rubbed the bridge of his nose. “It’s a Monster Truck meeting. Place is full. The only reason we still have one available is due to a cancellation thirty minutes ago.”
Shit. Vincent ran his fingers in his hair. He didn’t want to drive another hour to get back into town. He rubbed the back of his neck then exhaled. “Does it have two beds?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Fine.” He handed Ted his credit card. When the clerk gave him the old-fashioned key; he clenched it like it opened the doorway to a different world. An actual key, and not a keycard. No wonder he didn’t visit Suarez much. That border town, where he’d grown up, hadn’t changed a whole lot since his last visit.
Tension stretched his shoulders as he walked up to her. “Natalie?” he said.
Her name suited her. She was beautiful, delicate yet there was a veneer of strength about her. She got things done and didn’t complain.
She looked up from the brochure. “Yeah?”
Guess what?He cleared his throat. Judging by the size of the guilt trip Dina had sent him on, he could have traveled to Mars and back. Instead he was in Suarez, after all that time, trying to make things right for the one person he knew next to nothing about. “They only have one room, but with two beds. I’m sorry. That’s not what I had in mind. Look,” he sighed. “If you want to go back we will, but I can’t physically drive anymore.”
She shrugged. “Nah, it’s okay. It’s late and I’m tired too.”
“Thanks.” He led her through the hallway until they reached the room at the end of the ground floor.
When they entered the room, she flicked on the light. Holy crap.
Marriott this was not. He skimmed the popcorn ceiling, tired furniture and stained carpet. At least clean pastel pink bedspreads covered the full-size beds. She turned around and, thank God, amusement gleamed in her forest green eyes. Striking eyes, truth be told—much like the rest of her.
Taller than the average woman in town but certainly shorter than him. Her hair was still in a bun he guessed because of her work, but he’d seen it before and remembered her tresses were unruly, curls blending with straighter strands framing her face. How long was it now? His groin stirred, and he blinked.
Buck up. You’re here to make things better, not worse. A woman like her probably had been through enough, and didn’t need any more complications. That’s why he wouldn’t get involved with her in any way other than what was appropriate.
She turned to him, and a glint lit her eyes. “Think you can you get us something to drink?”
He drew in a breath. What harm could a beer or two cause?
