My Killer Vacation(79)

There is no way I’m holding him to the promises he made last night. Those were words soaked in adrenaline and residual fear. Promises he made because he feels protective of me and I was in danger. Now that the sun has come up, I’m sure he’s back to his bounty hunter mindset. Quick, no-strings jobs are what he wants. If he doesn’t get attached, he can’t get hurt.

“Maybe you should go out and talk to him?” Jude suggests.

I could. I should.

I’m just not sure I’m prepared to hear goodbye. Because despite my best intentions, the things he said to me last night in that passionate tone of voice…they might have given me a teeny tiny bit of hope. Dangerous, stupid hope. Ignore it.

“Let’s go. We want to beat the traffic.”

I pick up my suitcase, hesitate in front of the door and push it open. When Jude passes me, I close the door behind him, lock it and leave the key for Lisa under the large ceramic starfish on the porch. On my way to the car, I frown at the biker across the street. “Good morning,” I call, handing my suitcase to Jude so he can lift it into the trunk. “We’re getting a jump on the traffic. Back to Connecticut.”

He nods at me. Nods. But says nothing.

Then he puts on his helmet and the bike roars to life.

Huh. So he’s not even going to say goodbye? Maybe we’re taking the easier route of parting ways without any of the messy apologies or lies that we’ll call each other. Fine. I’ll follow his lead. Never mind that my heart is withering like a grape left too long on the vine.

I crank the volume on the AM traffic station and back out of the driveway, my eyebrows drawing together when Myles follows our next three turns. Just a coincidence. We’re both heading toward the interstate, obviously.

When we reach the interstate, Myles takes the same ramp. Same direction.

He barely leaves enough room between us for other cars to merge.

I switch lanes, he switches lanes.

“Is he following me?”

A laugh bursts out of my brother. “It took you way too long to figure that out.”

“All the way back to Hartford? Uh-uh. No way.”

“All the way to your front door, Taylor. You know that’s what’s happening.” Jude turns in his seat to observe Myles through the rear window, grinning ear to ear. “Admit this is romantic.”

“No,” I say, breathily. “It’s not.”

“He sacrificed himself for you on the beach last night and now he’s literally tailing you home.” Jude drops his voice and switches to an Australian accent, as if he’s narrating the Discovery Channel. “This appears to be some kind of unique bounty hunter ritual, Taylor. Be mean to the potential mate as long as possible, then wife her when she least expects it.”

Oh God. My lower lip trembles a little bit. That smidgen of hope he lit inside of me last night is growing…and that’s dangerous. This whole idea is dangerous and stupid. “That is not what is happening here. He’s just making sure I don’t trip on the way home and land in the lap of a serial killer or something.”

“You’re not getting knifed. You’re getting wifed.”

I wring my hands on the steering wheel. “He changed his mind too fast. If he came and stayed with me, he would regret it eventually.”

“You know him better than I do, but he doesn’t strike me as fickle.”

“No. He’s not.” I chew my lip, my eyes continually straying to his giant, helmeted figure. “But he still has all these unresolved issues with his family.”

“Everyone on this highway has unresolved issues with their family,” he responds without a second’s hesitation. “Didn’t you say he called his brother?”

“Yes. Because I reminded him…because…”

“You reminded him what love feels like.”

“That was the adrenaline talking.”

Jude clearly wants to argue with me, but we spend the next few minutes in silence—save the rumble of the motorcycle engine behind us. “Look, I’m with you, T,” my brother says, finally. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll back you up. If you want to pull over and tell him to get lost, that’s what we’ll do.”

I swallow hard. “That’s what I want to do. It’s for his own good. He has a sense of misplaced responsibility for me and I’m going to set him free.”

“Okay, cool. Let’s do it.” He squints at the approaching highway sign. “Pull over somewhere I can get coffee.”

After driving another three exits, I spot some golden arches and take the off-ramp. Waiting to see if Myles will follow, my throat turns dry and my pulse moves at a breakneck pace. There is no mistaking the relief that washes over me when he guides his bike off the highway after us.

Okay. I can do this. I can be strong, rip off the Band-Aid and do what’s best for myself, as well as Myles. I’m definitely not going to get even more attached to this man, just so he can blaze off into the sunset in a month or two, tired of my crying jags and thrifty habits. That would absolutely kill me. I’ve only known him for five days and the prospect of never seeing him again was nearly unbearable. What would it be like after weeks? Months?

No. I’m not going to find out.

When I pull into the McDonald’s parking lot, Jude turns to me. “Do you want me here when you give the speech?”