Inevitable Detour (Inevitability Book 1)(28)

Farren says nothing.

When I dare to take a peek up at him, he arches one brow questioningly. “How this is supposed to work?”

“Like,” I begin my explanation, taking a step back, “if we were to sleep together. I don’t know—”

“Shh…” He touches my mouth tenderly, cutting me off. “You don’t have to explain anything, sweetheart.” Gently, he urges me back into his arms, and I nestle into his strong hold.

“No sex tonight, then,” I joke, my cheek pressed against his smooth-textured suit jacket.

Farren chuckles lightly and says, “No sex tonight, Essa.”

Music is still playing in the background, and he starts to move my body with his. “Will you still dance with me, though?” he asks.

I sway with him as I say, “I can do that.”

“Good. I like dancing with you,” he murmurs into my hair.

“I like dancing with you, too,” I whisper back.

All the hard ridges of his body are pressed to my soft parts. He feels so good. As we move together, I relax into him, let him lead. For as much as I want Farren—and, God, I do want him at some point—sleeping together this quickly wouldn’t be a good idea. I like him entirely too much, and I don’t want to end up crushed.

But if things go in the direction I hope for, I sense a man like Farren would be careful with my heart.

I sigh and hope that someday Farren Shaw might actually want my heart.



The next day, after we check out of the Union Station Hotel, Farren and I head straight to the parking garage. There’s an ease between us as we walk in relative silence. Farren appears lost in thought, but I’m okay with that. I’m busy scanning the area, trying to recall where we parked the white sedan when we returned last night. I swear it was on the second level, third row from the ramp, but I don’t see it anywhere.

“Oh my God, Farren,” I exclaim, stopping and pivoting left and right. “I think someone stole our car.”

Farren doesn’t say a thing, and when I glance over at him, he’s trying not to crack up.

“What?” I say. “What’s so funny?”

“Our car wasn’t stolen,” he replies as he composes himself.

He motions for me to follow him as he walks to a parking space a few yards away. Stopping in front of a black luxury SUV, he says, “We’re switching to this.”

My eyes slide from Farren—dressed today in black jeans and a snug black tee that accentuates his muscular build—to the sleek vehicle he’s referring to.

“Oh, wow, nice,” I say, nodding approvingly. “This is definitely a step up.”

“Better than the family sedan?” he asks lightly, his tone jovial and teasing.

“Much.”

Farren grins flirtatiously, making my heart skip a beat. But then he turns away to pop open the back lift gate. He lifts up the cover to the cargo space inside, and I get a good view.

“Holy crap,” I blurt out. “That’s a lot of weapons you have in there.”

The cargo space is filled with automatic rifles, handguns, and other weaponry I’ve never seen before. I assume the vehicle switch is compliments of Farren’s friend Rick, but I also now have a strong suspicion that the arsenal has been with us from the start. No wonder Farren was always making sure he was the one placing our suitcases in the trunk. He’s been hiding this cache of weapons all along. Well, I guess we passed some point of no return last night. Farren must trust me now, enough to let me in on his former secret.

“Now you know why we’ve been driving and not flying,” he says, closing the back of the SUV.

“Makes total sense to me now,” I concur, nodding.

I guess he’s surprised by my easy acceptance. He laughs and motions for me to get in the vehicle. “Come on, Essa. Let’s get rolling.”

Truthfully, I’m relieved we’re armed to the teeth. Not that I have a clue on how to handle any of the firearms. But with his extensive military background, I’m sure Farren does.

We grab a quick breakfast before we leave St. Louis. And then, for the first hour or so on the road, I doze. When I wake from my impromptu nap, I realize I have no idea where we are heading. I never bothered to ask.

“Hey,” I say, stretching and yawning, “where are we going?”

Farren glances over at me, his gaze lowering briefly to my snowy-white lace crop top. The bottom hem is curled up higher than it should be, thus exposing a fair amount of skin between the bottom of the shirt and the top of my low-cut jeans.

I straighten my clothes, and Farren turns his focus back to the highway. “New Mexico,” he answers at last. “But first we’re stopping in Oklahoma City.”

“Oh, okay.” I pause and then tentatively ask, “Did Rick have news on Haven? Is she in Oklahoma? Or is she in New Mexico?”

After dancing half the night away on the restaurant rooftop, Farren and I returned to the hotel. We were both exhausted, and following a chaste kiss on my cheek, we bid each other goodnights and went to our rooms. I never had the chance to ask him what new things Rick has uncovered.

But I find out now.

“Yeah, Rick had intel,” Farren says, frowning. Since I suspect it was not good news, I place my hand on his squared shoulder.

Sighing, he continues, “Haven’s car was found abandoned in Oklahoma City.”