Mistake Me Not

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

“Give me it,” Ryder said, reaching for her bag.

Lacie pulled it away. “I can carry my own bag,” she said. “It weighs nothing.”

“Neither do you and you can be difficult when you want to be.”

“We were supposed to be out of here an hour ago,” Lacie said. “Sorcha will be worried. She doesn’t know where our room is.”

“You were the one who insisted on having all that s*x this morning.”

Contrary to what he’d said, they had slept last night… for a couple of hours. “Uh, I woke up with your mouth…”

“My mouth, what?” he asked, mischief in his eyes.

“You know exactly what you were doing,” she said, swinging her bag out of his reach again. “You started it.”

“I did,” he said. “But you didn’t have to join me in the shower this morning.”

Heat suffused her cheeks. “I was saving water.”

This behavior might bring a blush to her cheeks because she was still new to it, but she didn’t shift her eyes from his. In fact, she let a smile touch her mouth, and it was just playful enough to have his smile fall to a smolder.

“No!” she asserted, rounding her eyes, but he was already upon her.

She couldn’t refuse his mouth. Not when he was battling the same torment she’d struggled with knowing he was in the shower alone and n***d. His tongue tangled with hers; she grabbed the back of his neck with one hand. He swept her bag from the other. Just as soon as he did that, he broke their kiss.

“Ha!” he said, triumphant, holding both bags up in one of his hands.

“That’s cheating!” she cried, but he just opened the motel room door and gestured for her to exit. “That’s cheating.”

She passed with her nose in the air.

He hooked her under his arm and closed the door behind him with his bag hand. “I’ll make it up to you,” he mumbled into her hair, pressing a kiss to her head at the same time.

When they got to Sorcha’s door, he knocked with the hand that was around her.

“It’s sad,” she said.

“What’s sad?” he asked, leaning back.

Lacie assumed that he was trying to look in Sorcha’s window. “It’s all over.”

“What’s over?” he asked, glancing around.

“Our night, you know, us.”

“Uh huh… What?” he snapped, having taken an extra second to process her words.

“It would have been nice to spend the morning in bed, that’s all.”

“Right,” he said, his concern evaporated. “I thought you meant… nothing.”

“What?” she asked.

“Try the door.”

Lacie didn’t ask why, just opened her friend’s bedroom door and swung it back on its hinges. The bed was a mess, it had been slept in, but no one was in it now. Lacie didn’t have the time to panic, the sound of the bathroom door opening carried to them. Sorcha appeared wrapped in a towel.

“Lacie,” she said, glancing back at the bathroom. “You’re early.”

“Actually, I’m late,” Lacie said, stepping into the room only to freeze when someone emerged from the bathroom behind Sorcha.

Someone very n***d… someone very Shep.

“Little lady!” Shep exclaimed.

Lacie held up a hand. “Spare me,” she said then fixed on Sorcha who at least had the decency to appear ashamed.

“Am I getting my two for one,” Shep asked, cozying up behind the rigid Sorcha.

Ryder cleared his throat, presumably to let Shep know that he was there. He hadn’t ventured into the room and Lacie couldn’t blame him.

“We’ll leave you to it, I suppose,” Lacie said. “Just let us know when you’re ready to get this charade on the road again.”

Lacie wasn’t going to stand with them for longer than was necessary. She spun to leave, remembering only at the last minute to navigate around Ryder. Then she was glad that he had her bag because it didn’t slow her down. She wanted out of there, away from the scene she’d just witnessed as fast as she could go. The coffee place set back between the motel and the steakhouse was open at this time. It never had been on any of the nights they’d rolled up. She marched on in and dumped herself at a window table.

“Do you want to tell me what that was about?” Ryder asked, sliding in opposite her.

“Not really,” she said, taking the laminated menu from its holder at the top of the table. “Are you hungry? What do you like? My treat.”

“She had s*x with Shep.”

“Looks that way,” Lacie said. “Do you know what I love about America? Pancakes. You guys make great pancakes, and they’re available everywhere… much more than at home.”

He whipped the menu away from her hand. “Dusty, what is it?”

“Can I have my menu back please?” she asked.

He didn’t relent and she didn’t either, not until the waitress came over.

“What can I get you?”

“Two coffees,” Lacie said. “And pancakes for me…” Ryder said nothing. “We’ll share.”

The waitress examined both of them but didn’t c***k her deadpan expression before moseying away.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Ryder said.

“No,” Lacie said, glancing around the diner at the cracked-Formica tables and duct-tape- stitched static stools.

“Why not?”

“Because… she’s my best friend.”

“I’m your boyfriend.” Lacie kept her attention on the coffee machine behind the counter and folded her arms. Distracting herself from the sting behind her eyes with her examination of the room. “Right?” he asked with authority. She nodded. “So tell me.”

When Lacie looked at him, she caught sight of Sorcha through the window crossing the parking lot.

Lacie leaped up. “Wait here,” she said.

Leaving the coffee place as quickly as she had entered it, she met Sorcha halfway. Though she could see the tears in her friend’s eyes, it didn’t quench any of her anger.

“I’m sorry,” Sorcha sobbed.

Lacie got hold of her hand and pulled her to the back of the motel office. Although they were likely still visible from parts of the coffeeshop, she hoped neither of the men would see them.

“What were you thinking?” Lacie hissed.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

“It’s not me you have to apologize to,” Lacie said. Normally she’d never take such a stern line with anyone, even her best friend, but that morning was different. “I don’t even know what to say to you, Sorch.”

“Please don’t be angry with me,” Sorcha said.

“How did it even happen? When I left you were sleeping.”

“I don’t know,” Sorcha said. “I woke up and he was knocking on the door. He said there were no other rooms and I… I don’t know, Lace. I’m sorry.”

The difficulty with being angry at someone over something in the past was that it was finished. Often nothing could be done to change it.

“What if we find Bruce today? What are you going to tell him? Have you told Shep the truth?”

Sorch shook her head. “We didn’t talk.”

“Course not,” Lacie said.

“What am I going to do? What am I going to do?”

“I can’t get you out of this one either,” Lacie said though Sorcha clung to her. “We could go home, forget about Bruce for a while, but that means facing your family.”

“I can’t do that,” Sorcha said. “Bruce doesn’t need to know about last night, does he?”

“Ask Shep,” Lacie said. “He doesn’t know why we’re looking for Bruce. He doesn’t know about your condition.”

“I’m pregnant not contagious,” Sorcha snapped.

“I didn’t mean that,” Lacie said. “But were you careful?” Sorcha averted her eyes, the answer shone in their place. “If he has anything… you have to think about your child.”

“Don’t stand there being sanctimonious,” Sorcha barked. “You couldn’t keep your legs shut last night either, so don’t look down your nose at me for something you did too.”

Sorcha didn’t snap at her, she just didn’t… except she just had.

“Sorcha,” Lacie muttered.

“I’m sorry. Oh, I’m sorry, Lace,” she said, still clinging onto Lacie’s arm. “I know it’s a mess. I made a mess.”

Like she had a penchant for doing.

Lacie sighed. “Tell me what you want to do.”

“I don’t know,” Sorcha said. Lacie tried to turn away, but Sorcha pulled her back. “I’ll tell Shep not to say anything. He’ll keep his mouth shut. He’s not interested in me, not for anything serious.”

“You want to find Bruce?” Lacie asked. Sorcha nodded. “Are you sure? We don’t have to do this. If you want to go home, we can.”

“I can’t do that,” Sorcha said. “I have to find Bruce. He’s not getting out of this one. I am not doing this alone.”

“Don’t be motivated by fear,” Lacie said with a pang of sorrow for her friend. “I know you’re scared. This is… it’s unexpected and it’s daunting, and…” Fat tears rolled over Sorcha’s lashes, streaking down her perfect skin. “It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

Lacie gathered Sorcha into her arms. When Sorcha inhaled like that, Lacie recognized it as a prelude to the onslaught, and she was right. Sorcha sucked in long unattractive breaths and wailed in Lacie’s arms like a child learning the truth of Santa Claus too young. Lacie stroked her hair and whispered words of comfort to her friend.

They stood for a while as Sorcha let out all her upset. Lacie damped her friend’s tears with her sleeve, but let Sorcha wipe her nose on her own. Sorcha’s lip still quivered so Lacie took her down onto the paving. Sitting propped against the rough concrete of the motel office back wall, Lacie held Sorcha in her arms.

She whispered into her hair, telling Sorcha the story of their first meeting. Lacie knew the best way to distract Sorcha was with a story. It didn’t matter if it was new or one she already knew. Lacie kept it light, added the humor, and within ten minutes, Sorcha was laughing again.

“You’re the best friend in the whole wide world,” Sorcha said, sitting up straighter while keeping her head on Lacie’s shoulder.

“You’ve been there for me,” Lacie said. “I prop you up, you prop me.”

“Ladies.” Lacie wanted to swear when she saw Shep looming over them. “Unless this love-in’s about to get intimate we should get a move on.”

“You’re a prick,” Sorcha barked, clambering up to her feet.

“Didn’t seem to bother you last night, sweetheart.”

“You two should talk.” Lacie rose from the ground. “I’ll be in the coffeeshop if you need anything,” she said to Sorcha, squeezing her hand.

In the coffeeshop, the table she’d occupied with Ryder was vacant. Before she could wonder where he was, a whistle drew her attention around to a table in the opposite direction.

“What are you doing over here?” she asked, joining him. He nodded out of the window, and she saw Sorcha and Shep talking… or some variation of that. “You were spying on me?”

“Keeping look out.”

She tore a piece of pancake from the stack and dipped it in the syrup around the edge of the plate, then scooped it into her mouth.

“Sugar rush,” she said, but took another piece in the same way.

“Mm hmm.”

“What?” she asked, noticing him staring at her mouth, gripping his mug with white knuckles. “What’s the matter?”

Sucking each finger in turn, she pushed the plate aside.

“I’m thinking about you,” he said. “And maple syrup.”

She smiled. “Are you?”

“That, and your mouth… and what else you could suck on.”

Lacie leaned closer to quip, but in her peripheral vision Sorcha marched away from the coffeeshop, alone.

“Oh my god,” she said.

Scrambling out of the booth, she charged right past Shep and out into the parking lot to chase her friend down.

“Sorch!” she called.

Her friend was running down a grass decline. “He’s an i***t!” Sorcha shouted over her shoulder but didn’t stop.

“Where are you going?”

“Home,” Sorcha snapped. “Who needs him? No one, that’s who.”

“You’re walking home?” Lacie said, catching up to Sorcha. “You can’t walk home.”

“I’m not getting in a car with him. I’ll walk every step before I let him help me.”

“Okay, Sorch,” Lacie said. “Let me get my bag, and we’ll…”

“No,” Sorcha said. “I’m going now.”

Her friend could be stubborn, but this was madness.

“Okay,” Lacie said, falling into step with Sorcha.

“What?” Sorcha asked, drawing to a halt. “You can’t walk with me.”

“Why not?” Lacie asked. “If you are walking, why can’t I?”

“You’ll never make it,” Sorcha said.

“You’re talking to the girl who grew up with a bus pass. Your first car was a Bentley.”

“Don’t—don’t do that! He did that! I’m not a spoiled little princess! I do not want my own way!”

“Forget about him,” Lacie said. “What do you want to do? Do you want to go home, or do you want to find Bruce?”

“I’ll find Bruce. I’ll find him on my own.”

“Just because Shep is a prick doesn’t mean that you have to endanger yourself. Screw him. If he’s being a bastard, let him go home alone. There are other ways to find Bruce.”

“Ryder, you mean Ryder?”

“He’ll help us,” Lacie said.

“Only while you keep sleeping with him,” Sorcha whinnied. “Men are pricks.”

Lacie put her arm around Sorcha’s waist and began to lead her back toward the hill they’d come down.

“I know,” Lacie said, placating her friend.

“You did sleep with him, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Lacie said.

“This is when he’ll start losing interest.”

As Sorcha rested her head on her friend’s shoulder, Lacie looked up to see Ryder at the top of the hill looking down on them. He didn’t look happy. Sorcha kept talking until they got up the hill and was then genuinely surprised to see Ryder waiting for them.

“What are you doing here?” Sorcha asked him.

Shep skulked in the background.

“Shep has something to say to you, Sorcha,” Ryder said, taking Lacie’s arm to draw her away from her friend.

Lacie watched Shep talk to Sorcha while the couple moved in the direction of the coffeeshop.

Ryder stopped, holding Lacie in place. “Don’t do that to me,” he commanded.

“What?” she asked, still watching the other couple though they were now ten yards away and out of earshot.

“Disappear from my line of sight without warning,” he said. “I had to get all the way out of there while god knows what could have been happening to you. Wide perimeter security only works if both parties respect—”

Putting her fingers to his mouth, she smiled. “I’m not your client.”

“I know that,” he said though that furrow in his brow hadn’t got the memo.

“I’m Lacie Hart. We spent the night together one time… do you remember?” Still he frowned, and she didn’t think it was because she was losing her comedic touch. “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know this area well enough,” he said. “I think I’ll have to start advancing our trips twenty-four hours ahead of time.”

“This is the worst part,” she said. “When I’m home, I hardly ever go out.”

“Good,” he said and still tension radiated off him.

“Do you want to get a room and we can find a way to relax you?”

Pushing to her tiptoes, she kissed him until his hands unclenched. On the next kiss, he grasped her waist. A few seconds later, he had her toes off the ground. His arms were wrapped all the way around her, holding her against him.

“Sorcha tells me this is the part where you start to lose interest,” she teased, kissing him again. “Didn’t you get that memo?”

His anger had receded to an equally potent emotion. “Apparently not.”

“She doesn’t want anyone to know how she spent last night,” Lacie said.

Ryder hadn’t yet put her down, but he sauntered toward the coffeeshop again. “I don’t blame her.”

“I mean it,” Lacie said, flattening her voice of any innuendo. “You won’t—”

“You don’t have to request my discretion,” he said. “You told me what’s important to you: privacy and loyalty. I heard you the first time. You don’t have to tell me twice.”

“Will Shep be as discreet when we find Sorcha’s… you know?”

“Shep’s not the settling down type,” Ryder said. “He doesn’t want to get mixed up with anyone and wouldn’t get between anything for fear he might be the one left holding the baby. No pun intended.”

She nodded. “You can put me down.”

“Don’t want to,” he said. “You might run away again.”

“Okay,” Sorcha said.

Ryder let Lacie slide down his body to under his arm and kept her close when they approached Sorcha.

“Okay?” Lacie asked. “This is us now? Are we leaving?”

Shep was beside Sorcha though neither of them looked happy with the other.

“Yes,” Sorcha said. “The boys will travel up front today.”

“We will?” Ryder said.

“Yes,” Sorcha said, reaching for Lacie. “You’ll have to learn to share her if we’re ever going to get along.”

Lacie let herself be taken from Ryder’s embrace, but she wasn’t happy about it, not that she would tell her friend. Ryder had been a good sport about her friend’s temperamental behavior. Lacie didn’t want to push him too far. If he didn’t tire of her, she’d be lucky, but he’d be more inclined to tire of Sorcha’s moods if they carried on like this.

Still, they all went to the car and got in. From somewhere, Ryder produced a cardboard cup for her, and she grinned when their eyes met.

“You brought me coffee,” she said.

“Yeah, what happened to your treat? That’s two breakfasts you owe me now.”

His static expression made her smile.

Sorcha tutted and took the cup from Lacie. “If the man can’t afford breakfast, ditch him.” She sipped the coffee and hummed. “Though, he gets big points for trying.”

Ryder turned back to the windscreen. Lacie pushed her hands to her lap. He wasn’t happy. Lacie wanted to silence her friend and to apologize to Ryder. Sorcha was clearly taking her foul mood with Shep out on Ryder. That wasn’t fair when he’d been nothing but wonderful to her.

The journey carried on and no one was saying a word. Lacie eventually got her coffee back, but it was almost cold. In contradiction to her liquid consumption, Sorcha fell asleep promptly… Still, no one said a word.