Everything But The Truth (10 page)

“Uh, no, it’s just that your expectations seem a little high, and—”

“You’re afraid I’ll be disappointed.”

“Yes,” she said a little too quickly. “What I mean is…we should probably take things slowly.”

“But if you’re new, you need the practice. And, trust me, we’re going to practice plenty.”

Oh brother
.
What the heck have I gotten myself into now?

When she confessed her lie, she should probably do it looking him in the eye, and not while he was driving. She’d wait until they got to the motel, and maybe by then, she’d think of a way to tell him the truth so he wouldn’t be angry.

****

After paying for the room, Reeve drove around to the back of the building and parked Jameson’s SUV in front of their unit. Then, grabbing his duffel bag from the backseat, he climbed out and went around to open the passenger door.

Peyton took her time getting out of the vehicle, as if she weren’t looking forward to going inside the motel room with him.
Well, tough
.

Unlocking the motel door, he pushed it open and waited for her to precede him. Stopping in the doorway, she said, “There’s only one bed.”

“So?” He nudged her forward, into the small room. “We only need one bed.” The brown and rust colored room smelled of stale cigarettes and sweat, but it would have to do. He was too tired to drive any farther. They were hours away from the cabin in a little town just north of White Plains, New York. Tomorrow, they’d head into New York City, the last place anyone would expect them to go.

Under the window were the controls for the air-conditioning. Reeve fumbled with the knobs and cranked the thing to high. At first, the old contraption sputtered and whined as if it might break down, then it settled into a loud purr.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, and tugging his boots off, he asked, “Why don’t you get undressed?”

“What for?” Her eyes grew huge with alarm, and he wanted to laugh.

“So you can be comfortable while you sleep.”

“Sleep?” she asked, backing into the dresser.

“Yeah, sleep. You know…that’s when you climb into bed, close your eyes and snore. Sleep,” he repeated. “I know you’re tired, and you look as if you’re about to fall over.” He was serious; he had no intention of touching her—not yet anyway. He just needed some rest.

“I
am
tired,” she admitted, then yawned softly.

“Well, then?”

“But, there was something I wanted to talk to you about…”

“Can’t it wait? I’m really beat.”

“Sure,” she said, looking relieved.

He almost chuckled. Standing up, he jerked the bed covers back and then pulled his T-shirt off. As he unbuckled his belt and slid it through the loops, he saw Peyton’s pulse beating erratically at the base of her throat.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to bite. Not yet, anyway. I’m too tired.” Wearing only jeans, he settled himself beneath the sheet and waited for her to join him.

He closed his eyes and waited, then smiled to himself when he felt her weight on the bed. He didn’t make his move until he was sure she was settled. Reaching for her, he dragged her across the bed and bundled her closely at his side. “Are you sure you don’t want to take off your clothes?”

“I’m positive,” she said.

Lifting his head, he looked down at her ghost white face. He placed a small kiss on her forehead, then rested his head on the pillow beside hers. “Go to sleep, Peyton.”

It was some time before he felt her body relax and succumb to the sleep she badly needed. Only then did he allow himself to drift off as well.

Chapter Ten

While Reeve was still sleeping, Peyton crept from the bed and headed for the shower. It was nearly four in the afternoon. They’d slept most of the day away, and she didn’t want to waste any more of it.

That was a big, fat lie. The real reason she’d slipped away was in case he woke up and started getting ideas again about having sex with her. It wasn’t as if she didn’t want to sleep with him, because she did. But not while he thought she was a hooker.
Jeez.

Well, at least if I had sex with him, I wouldn’t have to tell him I’m not a hooker, because he’d soon figure it out.

She’d only slept with one man. David Wilkins. Although she didn’t consider herself a novice, she certainly didn’t have the kind of experience Reeve would be expecting—even for a naive hooker.

She had two choices. She could tell him the truth—admit she was a liar, deal with his wrath, and then hope he forgave her. Or, she could continue the charade and try to dissuade him from thinking sexual thoughts about her.

A knock on the bathroom door made her jump.

“Are you coming out of there anytime soon?” Reeve asked. “I need to shower and shave.”

“Yes, I’ll be right out.” After hurriedly drying off, she stepped back into her clothes and ran Reeve’s brush through her hair. She didn’t care that her underclothes weren’t fresh; she wasn’t about to go without them. He’d notice immediately.

Besides, he’d said earlier that after their nap they’d go get something to eat and then they’d pick up some fresh clothes at the discount store they’d passed that morning before checking into the motel. Taking one last look in the mirror, she unlocked the door and opened it.

Blocking the door with his powerful frame, he stared at her, his eyes dark and dangerous. He ran a hand over his beard stubble. The contact made a raspy sound. “I’d like to kiss you right now,” he said, “but my beard is so rough I’d probably rip your face to shreds.”

“That wouldn’t be good,” she said with a smile, and ducked under his arm to escape his confines.

After giving her a long look over his shoulder, he went into the bathroom and shut the door.

“Whew,” she whispered. “That was close.”

****

After feasting on burgers and fries, they were off to find fresh clothes. They parked the SUV and headed for the front doors to the store she’d seen earlier. Reeve placed a hand on the small of Peyton’s back, guiding her, as her red heels clicked on the asphalt parking lot.

Once inside, he grabbed a shopping cart and pushed it toward women’s clothing. Not wanting to be picky, Peyton quickly grabbed two T-shirts, one red and one bright yellow, along with a pair of khaki shorts, and tossed them into the cart.

“What I’d really like is a pair of sneakers,” she said, seeing a sign that said “Shoes”, and started off in that direction.

“Wait,” he said, tugging at her arm and eyeing the lingerie display with interest. “Don’t you want to get some new underwear?”

Yes, she did, but not with
him
standing there watching her. Realizing he probably wasn’t going to leave, she sighed and gave up. Grabbing a white cotton bra, she tossed it into the cart, then began rooting through the stacks of underpants for something comfortable.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Reeve look down at the cart and frown. Then he picked out a black lacy bra and held it up. “What about this one?”

“I don’t think so,” she said, shaking her head with conviction.

“It’s your size.”

“How do you know it’s my size?” Taking the bra from his hand, she pulled out the tag and stared. It was her size, all right.
How the heck did he know what size she wore?
“Thanks for trying to help, but I don’t think it’s me.” She handed it back to him.

Ignoring her, Reeve dropped it into the cart, then took out the one she’d selected. “Still trying to act innocent?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he returned the white one to the rack and began to study the underpants.

Annoyed with him, she said, “Why don’t you go ahead and grab me a couple pair while I check out the shoe department?” Since he’d only end up getting his way in the end, she decided to let him have a go at it.

He smiled seductively. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Rolling her eyes, she turned to walk away, then stopped and looked over her shoulder. “No thongs,” she warned.

Looking disappointed, he asked, “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
she mumbled under her breath.

Ten minutes later, Peyton scanned the aisles looking for Reeve. Under her arms were her new sneakers, a blow dryer and a pair of navy flannel pajamas. Not seeing him anywhere, she headed toward Health and Beauty Aids to look for some personal hygiene items, especially a hairbrush. She’d been using Reeve’s brush, and she wanted one of her own. After adding it to her purchases, she once again looked for Reeve. Still no sign of him. Maybe she’d grab a bottle of mouthwash too. On her way, she noticed the condom display and stopped.

Waiting until an elderly couple disappeared around the corner, she then zoomed in on a familiar sounding brand. She told herself it was silly. After all, she had no intention of sleeping with him.

“Yeah, right, Peyton,” she mumbled. She wanted to make love with him as much as he wanted to make love with her. Probably more. But she’d never bought condoms before. Not that she planned to buy any. She was just curious, nothing more.

She’d had no idea there were so many choices. Then again, this was the first time she’d ever paid that much attention. She’d read practically every package when she heard a voice behind her.

“I see we’re on the same wave length,” Reeve said, startling her.

“I was just looking.”
Darn, he would have to show up now.
Trying to quickly return the box to its place on the shelf, she managed to knock a whole row of packages to the floor. Squatting down, she started picking them up.

“You could help,” she said, doing her best to maneuver the shoes, pajamas, blow dryer and hairbrush while trying to restore the shelf to its original order.

“You look like you have everything under control,” he said with a touch of amusement in his voice.

When she finished shoving the boxes into place, she stood, dropped her things into the cart and started down the aisle.

“Peyton?” he called after her.

She turned around slowly, not wanting to face him, but having no choice. “What?”

“After all that, aren’t you going to get any?” he asked, nodding at the display.

He was enjoying himself. Well, she wasn’t about to let him get to her. As if there were absolutely nothing wrong with a woman purchasing condoms—and there wasn’t, except for the fact she’d never bought any herself—she marched back to the display, grabbed a package and tossed it into the shopping cart.

There, that wasn’t so difficult
. She’d sure shown him.

“Only one box? You think that’ll be enough?”

“Definitely,” she said. But suddenly she had second thoughts, although she refused to appease him.

Frowning, he retrieved the package and studied it. “Glow in the dark?”

Oh, jeez.
She hadn’t paid any attention to her selection. Putting on a front, she smiled and said, “Yes, where’s your sense of adventure?” Pleased with herself for tossing his words back at him, she fought back a smile and started to walk away.

“Peyton?”

She stopped and, sighing, turned around. “Now what?”

Still frowning at the package, he said, “I think we have another problem.”

Moving closer, she stopped and inspected the box. She didn’t see anything wrong with it. So, they glowed in the dark? Big deal. At least she’d be able to find him, she decided, feeling her face flush.

“What kind of problem?” she asked.

“These aren’t going to fit.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re too small,” he said with a smug expression.

Too small? Jeez.
An image came to mind, an image so clear she felt her blood warm. Oh, brother. This time she flushed so intensely, she could see the tip of her nose glowing as brightly as Rudolph’s.

“Well, why don’t you pick something? You seem to want to pick everything else,” she said, remembering his lingerie choices. “I’ll be at the check-out.” She bulldozed her way past him, and started up the aisle, wanting—needing, rather—to be far, far away from him.

She stood near the doors, staring out at the parking lot, when she heard someone come up behind her. Peyton spun around to face him and gasped. He was a big man, with black eyes as hard as marbles.
Was he one of Donatelli’s men?
She swallowed thickly.
Had they found her?

“Do you have the time?” he asked.

Without bothering to answer the man, she scanned the registers for Reeve. Then spotting him, she ran toward him.

“Hey, I asked you a question!” the man shouted from behind her.

When she reached Reeve, his face was a mask of concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“That man…” She turned to point at him. But when she turned, she noticed he’d stopped someone else and was asking the time. Looking back at Reeve, she said, “Nothing.”

****

Back at the motel, Reeve opened the bottle of cheap red wine he’d picked up at the State store and poured them each a glass. He sat back on the bed, his head propped up by both pillows and watched as Peyton emptied the shopping bags and yanked off price tags.

Holding up the panties he’d purchased for her, her eyes grew huge, then, without a word of complaint, she tossed them on top of the dresser. She’d tried on her new shoes, twice, and had paraded around the room, bragging how comfortable they were, evidently happy with her selection.

Taking a sip of wine, she frowned and began digging through the new items again and shaking empty bags. “I can’t find my pajamas,” she said, turning to eye him suspiciously. “I put them in the cart. Did you see them?”

Reeve shrugged, playing dumb.
“Pajamas?
No, I didn’t see any pajamas,” he lied.

Planting her hands on her hips, she said, “They were navy blue flannel. I
know
I put them in the cart. Don’t you remember when we were looking at the con—” Her voice broke off.

“Oh, you mean those things that would have covered you from your nose to your toes?” he asked. “I thought it was some kind of snowsuit or something.”

“Very funny. Where are they?” she asked, glancing around the room.

“They’re back at the store.”

“What?”

“I figured they got in our cart by mistake. Nobody in their right mind would wear a snowsuit in June.”

“What am I supposed to sleep in?”

Reeve smiled, picturing her lying naked beside him. “Have some more wine, Peyton.”

He noticed her pulse ticking wildly at the base of her slender throat. She was nervous—
with good reason
—and she wasn’t hiding it very well.