Liam nodded. “Whitney, this is my brother Brett, the one I was telling you about. Brett, this is Whitney Marlowe.”
Brett extended his hand over the bar. “Pleased to meet you, Whitney. What’ll you have? It’s on the house.”
She didn’t want anything, but thought that might insult the man, so she said, “A ginger ale would be nice.” She half expected to hear him scoff, but all he did was smile.
“Ginger ale coming up.” Opening a small bottle, Brett poured the contents into a fluted glass and placed it in front of her.
“Does everything that happens to someone in this town get immediately broadcasted to the whole town?” Whitney asked.
“Pretty much,” Brett answered without any hesitation or offense at her tone. “It’s a small town. We look out for each other here.”
“Speaking of looking,” Liam interrupted. “Do you know where Finn and Connie are?”
“Probably with each other.” A casual shrug accompanied the guess.
“I kind of figured that,” Liam said wearily. “But where? I thought they’d be in here.”
Brett paused to take Nathan McHale’s glass and refill it. Nathan was their most faithful patron and even the most infrequent attendee knew exactly what the man’s beverage of choice was without asking. A dark ale that was kept on tap. Nathan’s mug remained filled until such time as one of them felt the man had had his quota for the night. Once in a while, that call was made too late and Nathan spent the hours between midnight and dawn as a guest of the city inside a jail cell.
“Why?” Brett asked his brother, covertly studying the woman Liam had brought in with him. “What do you need with Finn?”
“Actually, it’s Connie I really want,” Liam explained. “Finn got her to okay Whitney spending the night in the hotel.”
“But it’s not finished yet,” Brett reminded Liam as he leaned forward and whispered that little detail to his brother.
“According to Finn, the ground floor’s completed and that includes all the rooms on that level.” Liam nodded toward the woman nursing her ginger ale. “Whitney needs a room for the night.”
“What about the room over the saloon?” Brett suggested, raising his eyes upward to indicate the studio apartment all three of them had put to use one time or another. Shifting his attention to Whitney, Brett told her, “That’s where Alisha stayed when she first came to Forever.”
“Alisha?” Whitney looked to Liam for an answer.
“Brett’s wife,” Liam explained, then thought she might need a little more detail than that. “She came out here from New York to work at the clinic with our other doctor.”
“Other doctor?” Whitney repeated. “Does that mean that this Alisha is a doctor, too?”
“That’s what it means,” Brett answered with a wide smile.
“He’s had that silly grin on his face ever since he got Alisha to agree to be his wife,” Liam said, shaking his head at his brother. “I guess love does that for some people.”
“Just wait until it happens to you, little brother,” Brett said.
“If it did, I sure wouldn’t be walking around grinning like some loon,” Liam kidded.
“We’ll see,” Brett replied.
Whitney felt as if she was being bombarded with too much irrelevant information and it was hindering her from processing the important information.
“What about that room?” she asked. Maybe it would be simpler if she just spent the night in the room above the bar. After all, she was already here.
The last time he’d seen the room, it had been in a state of disarray. The hotel rooms, according to Finn, were pristine. “Think of it as a last resort,” Liam advised.
“Hey, I lived in that room for a while,” Brett protested. That had been before Alisha had stayed there and before Finn had added on the bathroom for Alisha’s usage.
“Which is why I’m labeling it as a last resort,” Liam said. “You sure you don’t know where Finn is?”
“Never said I didn’t know. That was something you just assumed,” Brett declared. “What I said was that he was with Connie.”
“Okay, since you didn’t say you didn’t know, then can you tell me where he is?” The playful drawl had left Liam’s voice, a sure sign that he was serious.
Rather than give him a verbal answer, Brett pointed over his brother’s head. Turning, Liam scanned the immediate area and then spotted Finn. As predicted, the middle Murphy brother was with his fiancée.
Liam turned to glare at Brett. “Why didn’t you say so to begin with?”
“And lose out on this fine, scintillating conversation we’ve been having?” Brett asked, feigning surprise.
Liam grunted dismissively at his brother. Instead of just walking away, he paused to take Whitney’s hand, drawing her off the bar stool. He did it not because he found her to be a singularly stunning woman despite the fact that she had no makeup on, thanks to the flash flood, but because the saloon was filled to the brim with patrons. There was a distinct possibility that if he wasn’t holding on to her, they might get separated and ultimately lose track of one another.
Granted the saloon wasn’t big by most standards, but when it was packed the way it was tonight, getting lost in the crowd was all too easy a feat. Not only that, but he’d seen too many appreciative glances sent Whitney’s way and he wanted to make sure that no one acted on impulse and cornered her.
“C’mon. Let’s go,” Liam said gently.
The second he had taken her hand, Whitney had felt it. Felt that strange magnetic pull, that intense crackle that instant chemistry generated.
Whitney did her best to block it without being obvious about it. She knew that if she pulled her hand out of his, she’d be drawing attention to herself for all the wrong reasons. And one look at her face in an unguarded moment would tell Liam far more than she was willing for him to know: that she was extremely attracted to him. Whether it was because he’d risked his life to save hers, she didn’t know. What she did know was that what she felt was something that both of them would be far better off not having subjected to the light of day.
She had no time for complications—especially if that complication lived in such an out-of-the-way place as this one. Right now, her life was all about work. Later down the road, she’d concentrate on the personal aspects that were currently missing.
But not now.
The moment they came up to the people Liam was obviously seeking, Whitney immediately disengaged her hand from his. If he noticed the abrupt way she did it, he gave absolutely no indication.
“So you two need a room?” Finn asked innocently, looking from his brother to the woman standing next to him, a woman he didn’t recall ever seeing before.
“She needs a room,” Liam emphasized.
Finn flashed a smile at her, a smile she had already seen duplicated on both Brett’s and Liam’s faces. The family resemblance began with their smiles, Miss Joan was fond of saying.
“My brother has no manners,” he told Whitney. Putting out his hand to her, he introduced himself. “Hi, I’m Finn. This is my fiancée—love saying that word,” he confided. “Connie.”
Whitney acknowledged both introductions, nodding her head as she shook hands with first one, then the other.
There was a vague resemblance between the brothers, she noticed. But Finn’s hair was a light brown while Liam’s was a dirty blond that made her fingers itch to touch it.
With Connie, the second their eyes met, Whitney sensed a kindred spirit in the slender, auburn-haired woman. Maybe life here in this little dot on the map wasn’t quite as laid-back as she thought.
“Pleased to meet you,” Whitney murmured to both.
“What brings you to Forever?” Finn asked.
“The flash flood,” Whitney replied without h
esitation. If that hadn’t occurred, she and her car would have been well on their way to Laredo.
“Then that story making the rounds is true?” Finn asked in surprise, looking from her to Liam for confirmation.
Liam’s brother made it sound as if she was the town’s breaking news story. Just how starved for news were the people in this town? she couldn’t help wondering.
“Depends on the details in the story,” Liam qualified cautiously. When he saw Finn begin to open his mouth to fill him in on just that, Liam cut him off. “But it’s going to have to keep. I need to get Whitney to bed.” When he saw his brother’s face light up, he realized he hadn’t exactly phrased that correctly. “To a bed. To her bed.” Then, for good measure, he added, “She needs to get some rest.”
At any other time, Liam would have gone out of his way to wipe that smug, amused look off his brother’s face, but who knew where that would ultimately wind up. So for everybody’s sake, he banked down his feelings.
“Here you go,” Connie said, pushing a key card over to him on the table.
Liam was quick to lay his hand on the key card. This, he assumed, was what they were using instead of a good old-fashioned key these days.
“Thanks, both of you,” Liam emphasized, holding up the key card. He was looking directly at Connie as he said it.
“Don’t mention it,” Connie said. The smile on her lips was the kind someone had when they felt they were sharing some inner secret with the other party.
“A kindness should always be mentioned—and acknowledged,” Whitney told the couple. Connie smiled at her.
“Ready to go?” Liam asked, just in case Whitney had changed her mind and wanted to stay for the music or the company, or for some other reason. He wanted to accommodate her, even though he wouldn’t have been able to explain why. It was just something he felt.
Liam didn’t have to ask her twice. Turning toward the front door, Whitney all but burrowed her way through the crowd in a matter of minutes.
“I guess that’s a yes,” he commented with a laugh, increasing his stride to keep up with her.
The lady could certainly hustle when she wanted to, he thought.
Having fallen a couple of steps behind her, Liam was afforded a rather enticing view of the way the jeans Miss Joan had given her adhered to her body, molding themselves to her hips with every step she took.
That alone was worth the price of admission—and any trouble he had to go through to accommodate the woman he had saved from a watery, albeit rather dirty, grave.
They got back into his truck and Liam drove her the short distance to the hotel.
“This is it?” Whitney asked as she got out on her side. She was staring at a building whose steel girders were up, but only the first floor bore any resemblance to an actual hotel.
“This is it,” he confirmed. “Forever’s very first hotel. C’mon, I’ll take you inside,” he coaxed.
“Give me a minute,” she requested. “I’m trying to decide if I’ve just made a mistake.”
“To spend the night here?” he guessed. “Don’t worry. It gets better once you’re inside.”
“It would have to,” she said under her breath.
Judging by what she saw, the first floor did look to be finished. But when she raised her eyes to take in the other floors—floors that were in various degrees of completion—that was when she realized just how much more work there was left before this could officially become an actual hotel.
She started to walk toward the unfinished building, emulating a moth drawn to a flame.
“Wait a second,” Liam told her as he went rummaging through an area in the rear of the truck. It took him a minute, but he found what he was looking for and held it aloft.
It was a lantern.
An uneasy feeling zipped through her as she looked at what he was holding. “What’s that for?” she asked.
“I doubt if the power’s been turned on yet,” he told her honestly. “This’ll give you light for the next fourteen hours.”
She had no intentions of being here that long. “That’s okay, I don’t need it,” she told him.
“Yes, you do,” Liam insisted, taking the lead and walking ahead of her. “Unless you glow in the dark, you’re going to need to see where you’re going.”
It was twilight and she was exhausted, but nonetheless, she stubbornly held her ground. “It’s a hotel. It’ll have an emergency generator.”
“Only if it had electricity turned on in the first place—and it hasn’t. It’s an unfinished hotel,” he stressed. “Plenty of places for you to have an accident. So take it.” He all but slapped the lantern into her hand. He wanted her to get used to carrying it.
She blew out a breath, grudgingly—and silently—admitting he was right. But out loud she said, “Anyone ever tell you that you are pushy?”
“Nope. They’re all too busy thanking me for keeping them from doing something stupid,” he informed her as they entered the hotel through the front entrance. He took in his surroundings, recalling the recent tour he’d been given by Finn. Even so, it took him a moment to get his bearings.
“It’s through here.” He indicated a corridor on his left.
Because Whitney had no idea which way she was supposed to go, she let him lead the way.
Since none of the rooms were occupied, Liam chose what he assumed was the largest room—a corner suite—for her.
“How about this one?” he asked, stepping inside the suite.
She peered over his shoulder, then stepped inside, still looking around. Whitney made her way over to the sliding glass door that led to a small balcony. “It’ll do,” she said.
He noticed a lack of enthusiasm in her voice. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
Ordinarily, she would have told him he was imagining things. But she was tired and overwrought, so the truth came out despite the fact that she found her admission to be somewhat embarrassing.
“I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep tonight.”
He made a guess as to the cause. “Worried about the meeting you’re missing?”
She shook her head. That was small potatoes, actually. “It’s not even that. It’s dark around here and it’s really quiet.” He was obviously waiting for more. Her smile was rueful. “I can’t sleep without noise and some sort of light peeking in through my bedroom window.” She ran her hands up and down her arms, trying to ward off the chill she felt. “Quiet like this just feels eerie to me.”
He’d always loved the quiet, but he supposed there were obviously those, like Whitney, who didn’t. “Where did you say you were from?”
“Los Angeles.”
He laughed shortly. He’d never been but he knew what she was getting at. “That explains it. Well, give it your best shot,” he encouraged. “See you in the morning.”
Whitney nodded, resigning herself to sleeping in snatches. She could feel the disquietude settling in. “Thanks for everything.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said as he walked out.
But rather than going back to Murphy’s or turning in for the night himself—God knew he deserved some sleep himself—Liam got into his truck and began to drive slowly back and forth around the corner of the hotel, exactly where her room was located. He put his headlights on bright and turned up his radio, creating both noise and light.
Inside, Whitney had lain down, fully clothed, on the bed, hoping to hypnotize herself into falling asleep. Her concentration was interrupted by a sudden burst of light and a throbbing noise that passed for current music. The fact that there were both out here mystified her.
She got off the bed, opened the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the terrace.
That was when she saw him. Saw the lone truck driving around in what amounted to elongated circl
es near her hotel suite.
Liam.
Watching him for a moment before she withdrew into her room again, Whitney found herself smiling.
This was, she thought, the nicest thing anyone had done for her in a very, very long time.
Chapter Seven
“You’re what?”
Whitney held her newly restored cell phone—thanks to Miss Joan’s container of rice—away from her ear as her brother Wilson’s loud rant came through loud and clear.
No signal failure here, she thought as she continued to hold the phone she’d found outside of her door this morning away from her ear.
After a second, feeling that it was safe, she brought the cell phone closer to her ear again.
“I said,” she repeated patiently, “I’m going to be stuck here for a few days.”
She hadn’t expected sympathy from Wilson and that was just what she got—none. “You mean you’re slacking off,” he accused angrily.
“No, I mean exactly what I said,” she told him as calmly as she could—she’d learned a long time ago that shouting at Wilson never got her anywhere. “I’m stuck here. My car needs to have several parts replaced before it’s drivable again.”
“So what’s the problem?” he asked, his voice going up another octave.
“The parts have to be ordered.”
Mick had already called her earlier this morning to say that he’d made the necessary calls to get her vehicle up and running and her back on the road—but it was going to take at least a couple of days. She’d thanked him for the update, and then immediately resigned herself to breaking the news to her brother in LA.
“A couple of days? Where the hell are you, the Amazon rain forest?” he retorted.
“No, actually quite the opposite. It’s pretty dry here—except yesterday when it flooded.”
Whitney had to admit that she was still mystified how a few minutes of intense rain could have suddenly immersed her in a small lake. Mystified as well as rather shaken up because she was just now coming to terms with how close she had come to losing her life. She was certain that she would have, had it not been for Liam.
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