“Don’t worry about it.”
Sis frowned. “Dollar’s a dollar in this day and age, hon.” She handed him a key hanging from a large plastic diamond-shaped ring. “Don’t you forget breakfast, either. My brother might be the best brewmaster around these parts, but this ol’ gal makes the best cranberry muffins this side of Portland.”
With a little wave, she strode off around the corner and disappeared from sight.
Feeling vaguely winded, Laurel looked at Adam. “Did she exhaust you, too?”
His low chuckle rumbled tantalizingly over her nerve endings. He handed her the room key. “Go inside. I’ll get the car.” A small gravel area clearly meant for parking was on the other side of the cracked cement walkway. What lay beyond the gravel was anyone’s guess. The night absorbed the light like a sponge before the gravel ended.
She went inside and pushed the door closed. For $39 a night, she wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d have needed to shove a chair under the knob. But in addition to the dead bolt there was a very sturdy-looking safety latch.
The room wasn’t large. In fact, it was smaller than small. The entirety of it was visible in one glance, which was probably the reason for the Captain’s Quarters moniker.
The giant in the Lilliputian space was definitely the bed.
One side was pushed all the way against the wall. At the foot, there was just enough room to walk between the mattress and the wooden desk topped by a tiny fridge. Above that was an even smaller microwave and a one-cup coffee maker. When she slid out the single desk drawer, it contained a Bible and a bottle opener.
She pushed the drawer closed to continue the exploration.
On the side of the bed not pushed against the wall, there was slightly more room to reach the recess, which possessed a closet rod on one side and a sink basin on the other. A second recess, separated from the first by the small flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, had a similar footprint. A toilet behind one folding door and across from it, a tub-shower combination behind another folding door. White towels hung from pegs on the bit of wall straight ahead of her. Maybe a foot and a half separated the folding door on the right from the one on the left.
There wasn’t an inch of space to spare and the way the bathroom fixtures were separated was a head-scratcher, but Ed hadn’t exaggerated about his sister’s establishment. The room did possess the essentials.
With nowhere else to look, Laurel finally studied the bed.
A patchwork quilt covered the top and an additional blanket sat folded in the middle of it. At the head, four pillows in white cases were stacked two high beneath a window covered by a plain brown curtain.
Nothing was new. But everything looked and smelled spotlessly clean.
She placed the key on the desk. Then, because she couldn’t imagine what might fit inside such a small refrigerator except a takeout container, she opened the door.
Three label-less beer bottles sat inside.
She smiled faintly. She had no doubt the contents had been brewed by Ed. And the beer explained the church key sitting in the drawer next to the Bible.
She heard the car and quickly went into the one cube of a room to use the toilet. She was just washing her hands in the sink when Adam came in with her canvas tote bag and his overnighter.
He set both on the desk and closed the door.
The sound of the dead bolt and the safety latch snapping into place seemed very loud.
Then his dark gaze landed on her. “Well?”
She realized all of the towels were in the other closet by the shower, but there wasn’t enough room for her to get to it with him standing where he was. “Well?”
He looked toward the bed.
She wasn’t going to blush. But telling herself that didn’t stop her cheeks from feeling warm.
She swiped her wet hands on the seat of her jeans. “This isn’t a big deal.” She managed the words she’d rehearsed in her mind in a creditably calm tone. “We’re adults.” He had an Ashley who texted him ten times a day and she had a baby and whatever mess existed between her and the baby’s father. “There are plenty of pillows to put between us. Me on one side. You on the other.”
“A very proper arrangement.” His voice dripped irony.
She pressed her lips together. Her hands still felt wet. “All of the towels are on the other side.”
His eyebrows rose but he moved three steps toward the head of the bed. “I see.” He held a towel out to her and while she listened to him sliding one door and then the other, she finished drying her hands.
“Weird setup,” he said a moment later. “Tight as hell, but it’s better than the car.”
“That was my thinking.” She folded the towel over the edge of the sink then sidled over to sit on the foot of the bed.
Now that she’d seen the shower, she realized she wanted one in the worst way. She pulled the tote onto her lap and rummaged inside it for her toiletries and realized as she did so that her nightgown was still hanging on the bathroom hook at Fresh Pine.
It wasn’t that she cared deeply about the nightgown. But it did mean she’d have to wear one of her shirts to sleep in.
“You can take the shower first.” His words broke the uncomfortable silence.
She looked over at him. He’d brushed aside the curtain and was looking out the window.
But since it was dark outside and light in, she knew all he would see was the reflection of the room behind him.
Adults, she reminded herself. With nearly a decade between the present and when they had dated.
With a T-shirt clenched in one hand and clean panties balled in the other, she slipped into the shower.
When she pulled the folding door closed, there
