She reached for the pad and pen that sat on the nightstand. Without hesitating again, she scribbled sizes—bra, panties, shirt, jeans, shoes. She then ripped the sheet off and handed it to him.
Blake turned and headed for the door. “I won’t be long,” he said. “Put the chain on behind me and don’t open this door for anyone but me.”
She nodded. “Be careful, Blake.”
The grin he shot her could only be described as cocky. “Worried about me, are you?”
“No. I just really need a toothbrush.”
“Any color preference?”
“Pink,” she shot back without hesitation.
He wrinkled his nose. “You’re going to make me go out there and buy a pink toothbrush?”
She smiled. He hadn’t blinked at buying lingerie, but he complained about the pink toothbrush. “Don’t come back without it,” she ordered imperiously.
He laughed and let himself out. Then tapped on the door. “Chain,” he said quietly through the wood.
She didn’t hear him walk away until she’d secured the locks and the chain. Moments later, she heard the muted roar of his truck engine as he drove away from the motel in the early-morning silence.
But he would be back, she thought, and all her nerve endings seemed to tingle in anticipation.
JUGGLING BAGS, Blake tapped on the motel-room door a little over half an hour later. “It’s me,” he said, hearing Tara on the other side. “And I have your pink toothbrush,” he added, just in case she had any doubt of his identity.
The door opened. She stood there with wet hair and clean-scrubbed face, wearing his oversize denim shirt, which covered her to her knees. Beneath the shirt, her legs and feet were bare.
And, despite his promise that she could trust him, and his own private vow that he would not take advantage of her temporary dependence on him, Blake was hit with a wave of hunger so intense that he had to clear his throat. He’d wanted Tara McBride since the first time he’d seen her. He wanted her even more now.
He told himself not to even think along those lines until he’d gotten her out of the mess he’d dragged her into. But, damn, she looked good fresh out of the shower, wearing nothing but his shirt.
Her expression self-conscious, she stood back and let him enter, then closed and locked the door behind her. Trying to put her at ease, Blake hid his reaction to her and tossed all but one bag on the bed she’d slept in.
“The selection was rather limited, but this stuff should do for now. I’ve brought breakfast, too,” he added, tapping the fast-food bag in his hand. “I’ll set it out while you get dressed.”
Tara dug into the well-stuffed blue plastic bags on the bed, pulling out jeans and two T-shirts—one aquaand-white striped, the other white with red piping—a package of white sport socks, white canvas sneakers, a deodorant stick “for ladies only,” a travel-size hairdryer, and a hairbrush. Blake had bought everything he could think of that a woman might need when she was stranded with nothing.
She blushed rosily when she found the undergarments he’d selected—white lace bikini panties and a lacy white bra.
He liked it when she blushed. He got the feeling it wasn’t something she did very often.
And then she found the things in the bottom of the bag. A powder compact. Blush, mascara and lipstick. He’d had to ask for help with those selections, but it was worth it, judging by Tara’s reaction. Blake’s sister had once told him that a woman couldn’t help but feel better about herself if she was wearing a little makeup.
Blake had hoped Tara would like the stuff, but he hadn’t expected her to look up at him with tears in her beautiful sky-blue eyes.
“I—er—know it’s not the good stuff you probably buy at Saks or Neiman’s, but it’s the best I could find at this hour.”
“Blake, thank you.”
The tears, the slight tremor in her lower lip, the little break in her voice shook him. “Tara, it’s only makeup.”
She gave him an unsteady smile and made a quick swipe at her cheek. “I know. I guess I’m still a little tired.”
“You need food,” he said awkwardly, willing to do just about anything to dry those tears. “I brought muffins. I hope you like blueberry.”
Her smile deepened. “I love blueberry.”
Relieved that she seemed to have her emotions under control again, he nodded. “There are two foam cups of coffee getting cold in the bottom of the bag. You might want to hurry and get dressed.”