Dark Sexy Knight (A Modern Fairytale)(9)

This was intriguing. “Why? What’s your backstory?”

“That I’m originally from Sweden, descended from Vikings.”

“What else?”

“That I was arrested for street fighting in Stockholm and sent to America to live with my grandparents.”

“And then . . .?”

“I got into trouble here.”

“Arrested?”

He scoffed. “Many times.”

“A real bad boy.”

“Apparently.”

She grinned at him. “How did you find your way to Camelot?”

He slid his eyes to her, nailing her with a dark look. “A woman.”

She felt the heat start in her core, low in her belly, spreading out to warm her pelvis and breasts, her thighs and neck, until all of her felt tingly and hot. From a look. Oh Lord. From Just. One. Look.

She gulped, her voice breathless. “And then?”

“Backstory, remember?” He scoffed softly, looking away. “It’s just a story.”

“So, what’s your real story? I mean, is any of your Viking Knight backstory true?”

He gave her a sidelong glance. “What do you think?”

He was blond and gray-eyed: Swedish was as good a guess as any. His face was rough. So was his voice. And his body seemed almost built for fighting. A bad boy? Absolutely. A woman leading him astray? Certainly possible. But more like the other way around.

“I . . . I don’t know.”

“No,” he said. “The story’s not true.” Then, under his breath, she was sure she heard him mutter, “Not much of it, anyway.” His bottom lip slipped between his teeth for a moment, and he worried it before letting it go. “What’s your story?”

“Nothing as glamorous as your Viking beginnings,” she teased.

He was silent, staring out at the highway, and Verity decided if she wanted to hear someone’s voice filling the space between them, it might as well be hers.

“We’re from Camilla. Ever heard of it?” He shook his head once. “Thought not. No one has.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “We had five acres of land covered with pecan trees and a little farmhouse on Strawberry Road that my daddy’s daddy bought the day before he married my grandma.”

Out the window the highway zoomed past, and Verity stared at the crisp white line on the gray asphalt. How desperately she’d wanted to leave Camilla. But she’d had no idea how hard it would be to start over, to start a new life. “My daddy passed on last year. My mother followed not long after. They were like that, you know? Always did everything together. Even dying.”

Beside her, Colton cleared his throat, which she took for “I’m sorry.”

She sighed and turned to look at his face. “It’s okay. They were old when they had Ryan. Older still when they had me. More like grandparents, really, when I think about it. They never really knew me. And I never really expected them to last forever.”

“Your brother . . .”

“Got kicked in the head by a mule when he was little. Before I was born. I don’t ever remember Ryan being different than he is now.” She turned back to glance at her brother, at his face in repose and his mouth opened wide as he snored softly. “But I saw pictures. They said he was clever as a fox when he was little.”

In the pictures his eyes were wide and bright, mischief deep in the crevices of his face when he smiled. She winced. “Life isn’t always fair.”

“Amen.”

“So now you know my life story,” she said, forcing herself to brighten. “You gonna tell me yours?”

“No,” said Colton, frowning as he shifted to the slow lane.

“Okay,” she said. “I ask a lot of questions, but you don’t have to answer them unless you want to. I don’t take offense. My friend back home, Elaine, she calls me Magpie. You know, because I’m so chatty.”

“Smartest bird in the world,” said Colton, turning off the highway and stopping at the end of the exit ramp.

“Is that right?” she asked, grinning at him, delighted by this unexpected offering in their stilted conversation. “I didn’t know that.”

“Only non-mammal that can recognize itself in a mirror.”

“Well!” she exclaimed. “That’s interesting. So if I’m a magpie, I’m chatty and smart, huh?”

He gave her a quick, annoyed glance before pulling forward. “You said Glenellen?”

“Uh, yep,” she said, suddenly feeling self-conscious as she realized how close they were to her destination. Their temporary lodgings at the Thrifty Inn embarrassed her. She wasn’t anxious for Colton to see the dumpy motel they called home.

The fact of the matter was, however, even the Thrifty Inn, at $56.84 per night, had become a hardship for them. Verity didn’t have a working credit card, and her cash was almost gone. She was hoping to buy a little more time tonight by telling the front desk manager, Florence, that she and Ryan had gotten jobs and she’d be able to pay their whole bill in a week or two. Well, if she was really honest, she was hoping to dodge Florence for a few more days and then tell her. That would be best because, until TLOC paid them, she wouldn’t be able to cover their bill.

Turning around, she placed a hand on Ryan’s leg and shook it. “Wake up, Ry. Almost there.”