Driving Her Crazy. Amy Andrews

not even for Twisties.

      ‘No,’ she denied, looking back to the road. ‘You and your damn Twisties are making me cranky.’

      ‘I guess that means you won’t want any M&M’s either?’ he enquired.

      Sadie almost groaned out loud. How on earth did he keep in such magnificent shape? She could feel the fat cells on her butt multiplying just by looking at the familiar chocolate snacks.

      ‘Thank you,’ she denied primly. ‘I’ll stick with my celery.’

      Kent shrugged. ‘Suit yourself,’ he said as he threw a Twistie into the air near his face and caught it in his mouth.

      The crunch thankfully drowned out another resounding growl from her belly.

      By the time they’d crossed the state border and arrived in Cunnamulla, Sadie was definitely ready to call it a day. She was tired and over her strong, silent travelling companion, who had snacked all day, read, slept, listened to music and devoured two pies and a large carton of iced-coffee for lunch, whilst disparaging her pumpkin and feta salad with a Diet Coke.

      All with only the barest minimum of conversation.

      She wanted a shower. Then a bed.

      The welcome glow of a vacancy sign cheered her enormously. ‘This okay?’ she asked him.

      Kent nodded. ‘As good as any, I guess.’

      Sadie parked the car in front of the reception and she and Kent went inside, the night air already starting to cool.

      ‘Two rooms, please,’ Sadie said to the middle-aged woman behind the desk.

      ‘I’m sorry, we only have one left,’ she apologised.

      ‘Oh,’ Sadie murmured, her shoulders sagging.

      The woman looked from Sadie to Kent, then back to Sadie, and brightened. ‘It has two doubles, though?’

      Kent opened his mouth to tell the woman they’d go elsewhere but Sadie, standing tall again, butted in. ‘We’ll take it.’

      He blinked at her. ‘I’m sure there are other hotels here that will have two separate rooms,’ he said to her.

      ‘I’m sure there are,’ Sadie agreed wearily. ‘And if you want to go and track them down I’ll wish you luck. But I’m exhausted. My butt is numb. The thought of getting back in the car again makes me want to cry. So I’m going to stay right here, if it’s all the same to you.’

      Kent looked down at her doe eyes, the lashes fluttering against her cheek. She did look pretty done in and she had driven all day without complaint.

      ‘Fine. I can sleep in the car.’

      Sadie cocked an eyebrow. She doubted the confines of his back car seat would be very accommodating for a man of his proportions. ‘I’m an adult. You’re an adult. There are two beds. I promise not to wake up in the middle of the night and try to seduce you.’

      Kent gave her a grudging smile. His first for the day. ‘Well, now you’ve just taken all the fun out of it. And you, going to the trouble of bringing your frilly negligee.’

      Sadie blinked, surprised to discover that beneath all that guarded silence, a sense of humour lurked. ‘Well, will you look at that,’ she murmured. ‘He does know how to smile.’

      Kent suppressed another smile. ‘Don’t get used to it.’

      Sadie absently massaged her neck, too tired for this conversation. ‘Fine, tough guy, sleep in the car. Just don’t moan tomorrow when you have a crick in your neck.’

      He shrugged. ‘I’ve slept far rougher.’ Being embedded with active forces in the Middle East on several occasions had been far from luxurious.

      Not that he’d slept much then.

      Or now, for that matter.

      Sadie sighed. ‘Well, bully for you, He-man.’

      Kent was so surprised by the nickname he actually laughed this time. He’d never been called that before, at least not to his face, and it was bemusing. ‘Did you just call me a he-man?’

      Sadie felt his laughter undulate through every muscle in her body right down to her toes. It might have taken her all day but it had been worth the wait. ‘I call it as I see it.’

      Kent opened his mouth to deny it but Sadie was looking up at him with long, sleepy blinks and he had the wildest urge to see what she’d look like between motel sheets.

      He turned to the woman behind the desk, who’d been watching their exchange like an engrossed spectator at a tennis match. ‘Where do I sign?’ he asked.