Название | Grand Masti - Fun Never Ends |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Neha Puntambekar |
Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
Серия | Mills & Boon |
Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9789351062523 |
They split the bill in uncomfortable silence, then stepped out into the dark street. Deserted by eight-thirty.
Eve looked to her right, then back at him.
‘Listen, I know you’re just across the road but could you...would you mind walking me back to the bus?’
Maybe they were both remembering those three jerks from earlier.
‘Where do you park at night?’ He suddenly realised he had no idea where she’d pulled up. And that his ability to form sentences seemed to have returned with the fresh air.
‘I usually find a good spot...’
Oh, jeez. She wasn’t even sorted for the night.
They walked on in silence and then words just came tumbling out of him.
‘My motel booking comes with parking. You could use that if you want. I’ll tuck the bike forward.’
‘Really?’ Gratitude flooded her pretty face. ‘That would be great, thank you.’
‘Come on.’
He followed her to the right, and walked back through Norseman’s quiet main streets. Neither of them spoke. When they reached her bus, she unlocked the side window and reached in to activate the folding front door. He waited while she crossed back around and then stepped up behind her into the cab.
Forbidden territory previously.
But she didn’t so much as twitch this time. Which was irrationally pleasing. Clearly he’d passed some kind of test. Maybe it was when the beard came off.
The Bedford rumbled to life and Eve circled the block before heading back to his motel. He directed her into his bay and then jumped out to nudge the KTM forward a little. The back of her bus stuck out of the bay but he was pretty sure there was only one other person in the entire motel and they were already parked up for the night.
‘Thanks again for this,’ she said, pausing at the back of the bus with one of the two big rear doors open.
Courtesy of the garish motel lights that streamed in her half-closed curtains, he could see the comfortable space he’d fallen asleep in bathed in a yellow glow. And beyond it, behind the door that now stood open at the other end of the bus, Eve’s bedroom. The opening was dominated by the foot of a large mattress draped in a burgundy quilt and weighed down with two big cushions.
Nothing like the sterile motel room and single country bed he’d be returning to.
‘Caravan parks can be a little isolated this time of year,’ she said, a bit tighter, as she caught the direction of his gaze. ‘I feel better being close to...people.’
He eased his shoulder against the closed half of the door and studied her. Had she changed her mind? Was that open door some kind of unconscious overture? And was he really considering taking her up on it if it was? Pretty, uptight girls on crusades didn’t really meet his definition of uncomplicated. Yet something deep inside hinted strongly that she might be worth a bit of complication.
He peered down on her in the shadows. ‘No problem.’
She shuffled from left foot to right. ‘Well...’night, then. See you in the morning. Thanks again.’
A reluctant smile crossed his face at the firm finality of that door slamming shut. And at the zipping across of curtains as he sauntered to the rear of the motel.
Now they were one-for-one in the inappropriate social reaction stakes. He’d gone all strong and silent on her and she’d gone all blushing virgin on him.
Equally awkward.
Equally regrettable.
He dug into his pocket for the worn old key and let himself into his ground floor room. Exactly as soulless and bland as her little bus wasn’t.
But exactly as soulless and bland as he preferred.
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