Buckingham Palace—pun intended—was located only a block down from Ed’s. Since it was the first one they came to, it was the first one Adam pulled into.
The small parking lot that sat in the center of the U-shaped building was filled with motorcycles. “Doesn’t look promising.” He left her sitting in the car while he went inside to check for available rooms.
He was back in seconds and they trolled slowly down the street again until they came to the second motel—Buckingham Suites.
“I see a theme going.” He parked again in front of the entrance and quickly went inside.
She yawned and rested her head against the window beside her.
It felt like days since Adam had showed up at Fresh Pine with a maple donut for her, when it had really been just that morning.
The car door opened again. “Clerk inside says the veterans bike rally has taken up every room in town. She even called the Buckingham B&B for me to double-check.” He pulled on his seat belt, looking annoyed. “I should have stopped in Pendleton even though you were sleeping.”
“Sorry.”
He gave her a look that felt close despite the fact that it was dark and the only illumination came from the gauges on the dashboard and the moth-besieged fixture over the motel office door. “For what? Dozing off in a car on a boring drive?”
She hadn’t found it particularly boring. She kept that thought to herself. She closed her eyes again, resting against the window once more. “So we’ll sleep in the car on the side of the road.”
“Hell we will. We’re not sleeping in this tin can.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time we slept in a car,” she murmured. “The rain that time in the Adirondacks?”
“Flooded the tent.” His voice was quiet, nearly drowned out by the music on the radio even though it, too, was soft.
She felt his gaze on her even though her eyes were closed. His hand brushed over her sleeve, so lightly she wondered if she imagined it.
Then she jerked hard when someone knocked on the window next to her. Startled, she straightened and looked out to see the red-haired biker-brewer Ed hunched over like a great curious bear.
She looked toward Adam. “Did you forget to tip the waitress or something?”
He leaned right across her and pressed the button for the window and the evening air rushed in.
Even though she hollowed herself against the seat behind her, she couldn’t get away from the press of Adam’s shoulder against hers. She didn’t know whether to attribute the adrenaline suddenly pumping through her veins to him or to Ed’s unexpected appearance.
“Evenin’.” Ed propped a hairy-knuckled paw over the edge of the window as soon as it had lowered a few inches. “Saw your car sitting here. ’Spect you folks are looking for a place to bed down. Not much available with the ride going on this weekend.”
“So we’ve discovered,” Adam said. “How far is it to the next town?”
“Forty-seven miles if you keep on this road. Sixty if you head back to the highway. But if you’re not real picky, my sister’s got a couple rooms she rents out when everything’s booked up in town. The Captain’s Quarters. Ain’t nothing fancy, but she’s got the essentials. The beds are small but good.”
He jerked his head toward the motel behind him. “They won’t tell you none about it in there. Both motels’re owned by her ex-husband and the B&B’s owned by his ma. No pressure or nothing. Just wanted to let you know.”
His paw moved away from the window to gesture toward the road. “Turn right here. Another mile there’s a railroad crossing. Turn left at the street after—it’s called Six-Mile but there’s no sign anyways—and the only place you’ll come to is Sis’s. Take a look at the room. If it suits, good deal. If it doesn’t, you keep going on Six-Mile another forty miles to Buford. Got a chain motel there. Imagine they can set you and your missus up fine if you don’t mind another hour driving on a winding road.”
Adam’s eyes skated over Laurel’s face, then turned back toward Ed. “Thanks for the information.” His arm brushed against her breasts when he stuck his hand out through the window. “That was a great porter at your restaurant. You supply any other places besides your own?”
Ed chuckled as he shook Adam’s hand. “Nah. Too much work.”
“If you change your mind, I manage a new restaurant in Texas.” Adam’s arm brushed against Laurel again when he took a business card from his wallet that he’d tossed on top of the dashboard. “Have a few rotating taps,” he told the other man, passing him the card. “Might be interested in adding one of yours.”
Looking genuinely surprised, Ed angled the card up to the light over the motel door. “Provisions,” he read. “Where’s Rambling Rose?”
“Midpoint between Austin and Houston.”
“Huh. Well, that’s real flattering, but I dunno. Lotta paperwork involved.”
“Just keep it in mind,” Adam said easily. “Have you been brewing long?”
Ed barked out a loud guffaw. “Son, I been brewing one thing ’r another since I discovered matches.” He tucked the card away in his pocket and his eyes skated over Laurel. “Held you up enough now. Whatever you decide to do about bedding down, drive careful. Had us a real bad collision by the tracks a couple nights ago. Neither driver made it. Mighty shame.” With a wave, he stepped away from the car and headed for a gigantic lowrider.
Adam straightened, taking that warmth and that weight away from her.
She shivered.
“What do you think?”
“I’m okay with anything you decide.” She fingered the edge of her sleeve.
“Bother you hearing about that accident?”
She shook her head. Though the truth was, she was bothered by so many things at the moment she wasn’t sure what took precedence. The reminder of her own accident—which she couldn’t recall herself; the startlingly vivid image she had of a pouring rainstorm, a leaking tent, and a car with
