As quickly and as quietly as he could, Scout made his way to the foyer. He passed through the doors and climbed into his rented Lincoln Navigator. As soon as he pulled the driver’s door shut, he let out an enraged wail. Then he left the entire contents of his stomach on the passenger’s seat.
He slammed the heel of his hand against the dash.
God. Fucking. Damn. It.
***
Scout woke hours later. Many hours later.
He was in the roadkill daisy room at the B&B. Thank God for the private entrance. He’d barely made it through the door and had launched himself onto the soft bed.
Ah…the soft bed.
A saving grace.
The radiance of the triple-attack didn’t necessarily dim. It was the fact that Scout could bury his face in a mound of pillows and muffle the shit, fuck, damn, hell! flying from his mouth that was so helpful.
He knew to get up and take his meds. At the moment, however, no movement was a good thing. So he remained v
ertical with his eyes closed and tried to will himself into some sort of comfortable, non-head-splitting space. For minutes…for hours…for as long as it took the pain to ebb. Who the fuck knew?
***
Ciara was warm and toasty when she woke in the morning. Could hear the crackle of the fire. Could feel the fur blankets enveloping her. Knew there was no greater bliss then being snuggled up and completely ensconced in warm fuzziness and one seriously hunky man—
Wait.
She tossed back the top fur.
With wide eyes, she searched the immediate vicinity—that being the sofa she’d slept on.
There was no seriously hunky man here.
“Scout?”
Her gaze swept the vast room.
Thinking that perhaps he was in the kitchen, she sniffed the chilly air for the faintest hint of coffee. Not a Columbian bean to be had.
“Scout?” she called out again.
No answer.
Ciara sat up. She took in the living room with a more critical eye. Her heart sank.
No clothes.
No hiking boots.
No leather jacket.
No remnants of Scout.
Her gaze fell on the mess the two of them had left on the coffee table. Pizza and beer. She homed in on one misfit item. Scout’s iPhone.
Ciara frowned. Disconcertion gripped her. Her eyes squeezed shut for a moment, but then popped open again.
Scout had left her.