Burn It Up(120)

Available in print and e-book from Signet Eclipse.





The motel was on the so-called good side of the tracks, the western side, closer to the mountains. The bad side was where most of the locals lived, and it was also home to the grimier businesses—the quarry, some limping little retail operations, Benji’s, a couple garages, the dump, the dueling liquor stores. The nice side boasted the tech company and its employees’ homes, a half-decent grocery store, the Sheriff’s Department, and the Volunteer Firefighters’ headquarters. Alex had been a member of the latter, once upon a simpler time.

Vince was burning up inside as he and his impromptu date strolled down Station Street, headed for the tracks.

He was used to girls acting coy when he hit on them. Or scandalized. Or downright eager. He wasn’t accustomed to this woman’s reaction, though. He didn’t even have the right word for it. A weary sort of . . . unimpressed. Goddamn if it didn’t make his pulse throb.

She asked him questions about the businesses they passed, then let his arm go to snap a couple photos of the dilapidated Fortuity Depot station, and stare up into the night sky.

“Jesus, you guys get a lot of stars.”

“Benefit of living in a one-traffic-light town.” For now, anyhow. In a couple years, Fortuity would be twenty-four-hour neon pollution.

“You know there’s going to be an eclipse around here in a few months?” she asked. “A full solar eclipse.”

“I don’t exactly keep current with astronomy.”

“Someone on Sunnyside’s marketing team mentioned it. I’m hoping they’ll like my work and want to bring me back to photograph it for them. To use in promotional materials, since the casino’s named the Eclipse.” She messed with some setting on her camera, aimed it skyward, and set it beeping and whirring, capturing the stars.

Vince was distracted by other natural phenomena, such as the shape of her ass and the smell of that perfume. He wondered if she had a tripod and if that camera had a video setting. He wondered what he had to offer God to bargain his way into this woman’s bed tonight. He’d been feeling way too much this week. Maybe he could at least wake up tomorrow clearheaded, with sexual frustration checked off the list.

They crossed the tracks, turned onto Railroad Avenue, and headed for the Gold Nugget Motor Lodge’s well-lit lot. It was yet another local business that probably wouldn’t survive to see the casino’s ribbon-cutting. They were doing well now, most of the spaces filled with out-of-towners’ cars—folks here on development business. But once the resort opened, economy chains would follow, to catch the workaday tourists’ dollars. The Nugget would likely sell up, get turned into some name-brand outfit, get a major face-lift. Good for the owners, maybe, but it made Vince’s chest hurt, imagining everything anodyne, everything with a familiar logo slapped on it, the profits bound for someplace far from Fortuity.

Goddamn, since when had he turned so sentimental? He really did need to get laid.

Outside of room six, his companion’s key jingled as she got the door unlocked.

Just that noise focused his energy, the fate of the world seeming to hang on whatever was going to happen between them now. He felt his blood pumping hot and saw that sensation echoed by the pulse ticking along her throat. He could just about smell the curiosity on her. Same as he could smell that perfume, those flowers that wouldn’t last a day in this desert.

She turned in the threshold and Vince laid his forearm along the jamb, leaning close. She froze, but the interest coming off her was hot. She wasn’t scared of him, but there was a hesitance there . . . She was scared of what she felt. What she wanted. She wasn’t used to putting impulse ahead of consequence, he bet. He could tell from how she spoke, how she dressed. Impulsive wasn’t in her repertoire.

Welcome to Fortuity.

Vince stooped, bringing his lips to her hairline. Fuck, she smelled good.

“Thanks for the walk,” she said softly.

“Ask me in.”

He felt her exhalation on his neck, a tight, anxious huff. “I’m not sure.”

“Bet you are,” he breathed.

“It’s been a really long, shitty day.”

“All the more reason to end it on a high note.”

She laughed, the sound winding him even tighter. “You’re shameless.”

“Shame’s a useless emotion.”

“I’m going to ask you one question; then I’ll decide. Deal?”

“Shoot.”

She looked up and held his stare. “What’s my name?”

Fu-u-u-uck. “Uh . . .”

Her brows rose. “You don’t remember, do you?”

“No. No, I do not.” But he’d memorized her backside, in that skirt. Ought to count for something. “Jog my memory?”

She shook her head with an irritated sigh and stepped inside. “Good night, Vince. Thanks for the company. Sorry it had to end here.”

He grabbed her hand. “Oh, hey—come on, now. That’s not fair.”

“I was down for maybe being your random one-night stand, but not an anonymous one.” Her fingers wriggled free. Her voice had risen, cool tones lost to something far hotter. “I wasn’t feeling real choosy tonight myself, but I do have some standards.”

“When you live in a town this small, you don’t get much practice at memorizing new names.”