Plush Book 4: A Billionaire Romance (4 page)

I slammed another stack of shirts into my bag and then turned back to the phone. “I can, I will, and unless you have something
helpful
to add, I have a lot of things to do.”

“Allie,” his voice was pinched. “I know you’re freaked out, but slow down and think about this. A plane will get you there in what, two hours? It’s safer, faster—”

“I don’t fly.” Just the idea of being on a plane churned my stomach and gave me the shakes. I’d only been on a plane once in my entire life, and it had been one of the worst experiences I’d ever experienced. I’d spent the entire trip clinging to the arm rests so hard I’d broken off two fingernails. I knew it would take longer to ride to Kansas on my bike, but at least I’d have fresh air and an open road. Something about continually moving was soothing, even though I knew it would be less than charming a few hours in.

My mind was made up and Cooper would just have to deal with it.

He seemed to realize this around the same time and after a growl of pure frustration, asked, “How can I help?”

As I was about to answer that I had it all under control, a brush of fur tickled my ankles. I looked down into the big blue eyes of Sam, my cat, and already missed him. I’d never been away from him for more than a night, and knew he wouldn’t understand my sudden absence. “Take care of Sam. I set out extra food, but he’ll need someone to check in on him while I’m gone. There’s an extra key wedged in the liner of the welcome mat.”

I could practically
hear
him rolling his eyes, but after a tense beat of silence, he sighed, “All right. But call me, every time you stop. Don’t go to truck stops after dusk, stick to the main roads, and make sure you have the credit card I gave you.”

I rolled my own eyes in response to his list of instructions, but couldn’t help but smile. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Allie. Please be safe.”

I ended the call, the smile fading from my face as I grabbed my bag from the floor and hauled ass down to Cherry Bomb and set out, desperate to log as many miles as possible before the sun set.

“She just took off? On her motorcycle? Alone?” Angela asked once I’d recounted the story to her. I’d been going stir crazy in the office, unable to settle my nerves since a couple of staff members from the IT department had burst in to my office to tell me that Allie had received an upsetting phone call and bolted from the office. I called Angela to talk myself off the ledge. After Allie hung up, I’d actually considered going to her apartment, giving her a sedative, and flying her to Kansas that way.

“Yeah.” I rubbed a hand down my face. The visual image of Allie on Cherry Bomb, racing down the highway was haunting me. All I could think of was a long list of things that could go wrong. What if she ran out of gas? Got a flat? Stopped at a rest stop and her bike got stolen? Tangled with a group of bikers?
Why didn’t I stop her?

There were a million reasons why I hated the idea of her alone on the thousand plus mile journey. And then, there was another batch of thoughts, even worse than that…what if she didn’t make it in time?

I hadn’t been able to get many details, but a serious heart attack compiled with a car wreck didn’t leave room for much hope. All I could do was hope it was better than it sounded.

“What are you going to do?” Angela asked softly.

I looked out my office window, watching as the city below started to transition from day to night. It was nearing five o’clock and at this time of the year, the sunlight wouldn’t hold out much longer. “I have no idea. Take care of her cat and try not to lose my mind while I wait for a call.”

“I’m sorry, Coop. Do you want some company?”

I shook my head. “Nah, that’s all right. Thanks though.”

“All right. Call me if you change your mind. All I got on the books is a bottle of wine and plowing through some scripts.”

I pinched my eyes closed at her mention of scripts. It was something I’d been meaning to bring up in conversation, but somehow the timing seemed all wrong. Angela had finished her treatment a month prior and had made a remarkable comeback but the thought of her falling back or relapsing was enough to bring me to my knees. Acting had been her whole life for the past several years, and I knew I couldn’t hold her back forever, I just hoped she was being realistic and taking small steps. “Thanks sis.”

After hanging up with Angela, I forced myself into my chair and focused on tackling the ever growing list of emails that were waiting for responses. Each time I clicked send, I lost myself in wondering where Allie was at that exact moment, and by the time I’d replied to a few dozen messages, it was nearing nine o’clock and I knew I was the last one at the office. I closed up my office and was halfway home, before pulling a u-turn and heading over to Allie’s apartment on the opposite end of the city.

“Hey Sam,” I said, as I stepped inside—pocketing the spare key. Seconds later, a little ball of fluff came running up to meet me. I’d been to Allie’s apartment a few times and had secretly plied his affection with kitty treats under the table when Allie wasn’t looking. She had him on some all natural, hippy cat food and my handful of fish flavored treats had been happily accepted.

I squat down and scratched the cat under his chin. “Sorry buddy, no treats this time. I’ll bring some tomorrow.”

Sam trotted off back to the couch where he’d apparently been camped out before my arrival, and I took the two short steps into the kitchen, suddenly realizing the gnawing pit in my stomach had morphed from anxiety to hunger pangs. Allie’s apartment was an organized disaster—per usual.

There were stacks of unopened mail on her kitchen counter, at least a couple day’s worth of dishes in the sink, and a smattering of crumbs on the counter tops. I smiled as I assessed the room. It was so
Allie
. She was always in hurricane mode, rushing from place to place, never quite on time, but she was so gregarious and full of life that no one could fault her for it. I cracked open the fridge and sighed at the pathetic assortment on the shelves. Allie was a strict vegan and none of the dishes in her fridge looked like they contained real food. Both crisper drawers were stuffed full of greens and the shelves were lined with some green juice concoction. She’d been rambling on about a juice diet and as I surveyed the contents—I realized she must have been serious.

I chuckled and shut the fridge, wishing she was there so I could tease her. Allie was always complaining about her weight. I’d taken her shopping once, at a high end department store, and after three outfits, she gave up and dragged me out of the store, claiming there was no way her thighs would ever fit into anything in the entire shop. I honestly had no idea what she was talking about. Her petite frame was curvy to be sure, but in
all
the right places. But my compliments and assurances often fell on deaf ears. I usually resorted to
showing
her just how sexy and intoxicating I found her to be…

“Fuck.”

I shook off the thoughts, knowing that longing for her body was only going to make the entire situation worse. I crossed to the living room to find Sam rolled into a ball. “Hey, little man, since your mama insists on rabbit food, I’m gonna have to go grab us men some real food. I’ll be back.”

He blinked his understanding—or, at least what I took as understanding—and I ran down to the corner market to grab a couple cans of normal cat food, a frozen pizza, and a six pack of amber ale. It was pure comfort food and I spent the rest of the night on the couch with Sam, half heartedly watching some crime scene show, and eyeballing my phone, willing it to ring every commercial break.

Eventually I fell asleep on the couch, with the purring fur ball vibrating on my chest.

* * * *

Allie still hadn’t called to check in by the next morning and a cold, creeping panic was taking hold of me. Before I even rolled off the couch, I booked a flight to Wichita, remembering that Allie had once mentioned that was the closest big city to her parents’ country home. She never talked about her parents, any information I had about them was all gathered through strategic questions I’d asked over the past few months. How was it possible that I’d spent nearly every waking minute with the woman for the past several months, and yet, still didn’t know the basics, like where her parents lived?

Light was flooding in through the windows and I knew I still needed to go home to shower and change before I could go into the office. I pushed off the couch, careful not to disturb the sleeping Sam.

Minutes later, my phone chirped to notify me of an email, and I knew it would be the flight confirmation. I made a deal with myself to get through the day, arrange for the managers to hold down the fort, and then I’d head to the airport. But then what? I didn’t have her parents address and if Allie wasn’t answering her phone, there was no way to get the information. I couldn’t drive around to every hospital asking for her father. I leaned against the counter and pinched the bridge of my nose. “It’s such bullshit,” I groaned to myself.

I set out a fresh can of food for Sam and left the apartment, making a mental note to hire a pet sitter before boarding the afternoon flight.

Less than two hours outside of the city limits, the rain started pouring down. It was as though I’d officially left the bubble that surrounded LA and dove straight into the desert thunderstorms. Before leaving my apartment, I’d thrown on my full leathers, which included long pants and a thick jacket, but even with the extra protection, I was freezing cold from the whipping of the cold desert wind. I pushed through, letting the images of my dad lying in a hospital bed propel me forward, but nearing midnight, I decided to stop. Unfortunately, by that point, I was five or so hours outside of the city and on a patch of highway that was sprinkled with small towns and not much else as I crossed the border into Arizona. I raced down the highway as fast as I dared, knowing that while I was an experienced rider, it still wasn’t smart to go full out on a slick road.

According to the next road sign, the upcoming town had a motel, so I put my head down and plowed through, trying to ignore the sharp bits of rain hitting my cheeks, cursing myself for not thinking to wear my other helmet that had a full visor. When I finally reached the turn off, I let out a relieved cry and followed the sign markers to the small motel that was supposedly just a mile off the highway. As I cruised the main street, it became apparent that the motel was one of only a few places in town. I passed a gas station, small diner, and a post office, before arriving at the Blue Lagoon Motel. I hopped off my bike and laughed as I considered the sign.

“Blue Lagoon?” It was dark, but there was no doubt that I was smack dab in the middle of the dessert. There was nothing
blue
or
lagoon
about it. The motel itself looked sketchy beyond belief and as I started for the front entrance, I was struck by a strong sense that I should get back on Cherry Bomb and keep going. Surely there was something more…
suitable
…up the highway. I’d eventually hit a main city that would have more options.

I stopped short of the doors, ready to turn back, but a boom of thunder ripped through the sky overhead and sent me scurrying inside. The lobby was smaller than the bathroom in my apartment. I could barely take two full strides without running right into the desk. The lights were low, and a sweeping glance at the ceiling revealed that several of the fluorescent tubes had burnt out. There was no one behind the desk and the entire room was eerily quiet.

“Just my luck, I’m checking into the place from Psycho,” I mumbled to myself as I continued to survey the dismal surrounding. Everything was shabby and out of date. Two chairs were shoved off to the side, they were upholstered with some God-awful green colored velvet, and each heavily stained with…well…I didn’t really want to know
what
.

I should have listened to Cooper. I admitted, only to myself.

After a minute or two of waiting, I peeked over the edge of the desk and saw a dingy looking service bell. I hovered over it for a moment, before bashing down on the knob and sending a sharp chime echoing through the space. I winced as the sound faded and busied myself by pulling off my slick gloves and tucking them into my back pocket. I rubbed my hands together, willing some warmth into my fingertips, as I bounced on my heels and looked around for any sign of life.

“Hello?”

Still nothing.

I rang the bell again and pulled my phone out of my pocket. The screen was black and when I tried to power on, the battery sign flashed at me. “Shit,” I groaned. Cooper was going to
kill
me. Not to mention, that with my phone out, I had no way for my family to call and update me. I gave one last glance at the clock above the desk showed it was a little after midnight. If I couldn’t check in, I needed to get back on Cherry Bomb and keep going to the next small town.

I cursed again under my breath and stalked back the few steps to fling open the front door. The hours were posted on neon colored paper. Although the lights were on, and the door unlocked, according to the sign, the front desk was closed between ten and eight.

I slammed the door closed and stepped back into the icy rain. I went back to Cherry Bomb and strapped my helmet back on and was in the middle of pulling my gloves back on, when I looked around and caught the neon lights of the flashing Open sign that was hanging in the window of the quaint diner I’d passed on my way into town. It was better than nothing, and if I was lucky, they’d have an open outlet and I could get some juice back into my phone. I grabbed my backpack from the weatherproof side compartment of Cherry Bomb and ran the block and a half to the diner.

“Sit anywhere you’d like,” a voice called from behind the counter. I took a quick look around and spotted an outlet near one of the places alongside the long counter that overlooked the kitchen. I sat down and went to work untangling my charging cable from inside my bag. I was leaning over to plug in my phone when an older woman popped up from the other side and offered a warm smile. “Hello dear, what can I get for you?” Her hands were encased in yellow rubber gloves and I realized she must have been cleaning the floor on the other side.