Maggie got back to the Holiday Inn just as twilight transformed the sky into a neon blue. When she walked into the hotel room she noticed the doors connecting hers and Tully’s rooms were still open. She could see Tully’s bathroom door was closed and the sound of the shower brought her overwhelming comfort. She left the doors open.

Earlier her nerves had been frayed. She had come close to grabbing Noah Waters by the jacket collar and shaking him until he told her the truth. Now exhaustion seeped in, replacing adrenaline. Her body ached from climbing down the ravine. At the veterinary hospital she had washed off the dirt and wiped her face with harsh brown paper towels. She knew she’d find cuts and bruises once she started removing her clothing. A long hot shower would help.

She was glad Tully was here. He’d listen and shrug and say something that would put everything back in perspective. Then he’d suggest they order room service, some beers, more of those sliders that he gobbled up last night.

She heard the shower turn off. She’d give him time to put some clothes on. She checked her cell phone. The battery was almost dead. There was only one voice message, from a number she didn’t recognize. She dug her charger out of her laptop case and plugged it in. Checked again and noticed a text from Ben.

“YOUR BOYS R MISSING U.”

A photo was attached and she opened it to find not just Jake and Harvey mugging for the camera, but Ben and his Westie, Digger, too.

“Your boys.” She read the single line of text again. Did he mean Harvey and Jake or was he including Digger and himself?

She heard noise next door. Tully was out and it sounded like he was shoving around furniture.

She went to the adjoining doorway. “Hey, are you decent?” she asked as she walked in. Creed stood at the other side of the room wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Oh, my God, I’m sorry.” Immediately she felt her face go hot. “I was expecting Tully.” She took one step back and dipped her head but her eyes darted back to his chest, his torso, his legs.

“No, it’s okay. Come on in. I don’t mind if you don’t mind.”

To leave now would be an admission that she actually did mind. And he honestly didn’t seem to care. He went back to what she had interrupted, spreading out a folded map over the bed closest to the window. Her eyes took the opportunity to scan the length of him. But then she felt the heat flush more than her face. What the hell was wrong with her?

“Is Tully here?”

“He should be back pretty soon. He took my Jeep. Had an errand or something.”

He kept opening the rest of the accordion map, fold by fold, and smoothing the creases. He seemed completely unaware of how low the towel hung on him, exposing the indent of lean hip muscles.

When she didn’t say anything, he continued, without looking up, “Lopez dropped him off at the vet hospital. The Holiday Inn doesn’t have any more rooms. Tully said I could crash with him.” He was intent on the map, bending at the waist now and running an index finger over it in search of something. Then suddenly Creed glanced up at her. “I’m sorry. We should have cleared it with you.”

“No, don’t be silly. It’s fine. And there’s plenty of room. Two double beds in both rooms.” Now she was babbling and she wasn’t a woman who babbled. Why did she just tell him how many beds there were?

“How’s Grace?” she asked, wanting to take her mind off his long legs and broad shoulders. He could be the poster model for six-pack abs.

“She’s good.” He stood up straight, his thoughts back to Grace instead of the map. His hair was still damp and tousled from the shower. His jaw, dark and unshaven. He rubbed a hand over his face. “I waited until she woke up before I left. I wanted to stay long enough to make sure she understood I was there. That she was okay. Not scared. Well, you know, you’ve got dogs. You reassure them as best as you can.”

She kept her eyes on his as she listened and witnessed yet another transformation of this man. Over the course of two days she had watched him go from quiet, proficient professional to frantic, macho protector to sullen, contemplative rescuer to this: a concerned, gentle—totally hot—caretaker.

She didn’t realize that they were staring at other each for a beat too long until he smiled.

“So what exactly are you doing?” She dropped her eyes to the map but she could feel his still on her.

“I bought this map downstairs.” Thankfully, his mind was back to his search. “It has South Dakota and Iowa, Nebraska and Kansas. I thought there might be some connection, some pattern, to the highway sections he’s chosen. Interstate 70 goes all the way to Washington, D.C. Take a look.” And he gestured for her to come around to his side of the bed.

“I don’t mind waiting if you want to throw some clothes on.”

“I don’t have any. My duffel bag’s still in the Jeep.” He looked up at her, again. She hadn’t moved. “If you’re uncomfortable—”

“No, of course, not.” She made herself take one step, then another, until she was at the end of the bed, hitching her neck to the side so she could see the map without coming around the bed and standing right beside him.

“Okay, so show me what you’ve got,” she said and immediately blushed at her poor choice of words.

Creed didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he was giving her a pass. She pushed a strand of hair back behind one ear. Then planted her hands on her hips and stared at the map.

Focus, O’Dell, she told herself.

This close she could smell his freshly scrubbed skin, the hotel’s shampoo. A quick glance and she noticed a scar on his jawline, a half inch of white more pronounced in the unshaven bristles. Her body was still too conscious of his. She was exhausted, that’s all. It was more difficult to shut down basic physical responses when the body was fatigued. This time when he glanced up at her, he did notice. And his eyes locked on hers.

She wasn’t sure how it happened. But she knew she had done nothing to stop it. It started with a kiss, gentle and tentative, almost as a test. When he pulled her against him, Creed lost his balance and fell backward onto the bed. An accident? Intentional? At that point it didn’t matter. He fell and didn’t let go, bringing her down on top of him.

She had one chance to call it all an accident. In an attempt to catch her balance, she ended up with one outstretched arm on each side of him, holding herself up, mere inches keeping their chests apart. But the rest of her body was already pressed against his. He could have pulled her down the rest of the way, but he left the decision to her. Left her on her own to fight the magnetic field. Eyes serious. No hint of humor. Locked on each other again. Creed arched his back and lifted his head, eyes still not leaving hers. His lips teased her chin, then her jaw, her neck, and moved down to her collarbone.

The knock on the door sounded like a warning gunshot.

“Hey, Creed, it’s Tully. I forgot, I gave you my key card.”

In an instant, Maggie felt like a busted teenager getting caught. She scrambled awkwardly off Creed and off the bed. The map beneath them crackled in an explosion of noise and her feet hit the floor with a thump. She was embarrassed and flushed—even more flushed when she saw that Creed’s towel had come loose.

“Creed, you there?”

She tiptoed toward Tully’s voice.

“Hold on. I just got out of the shower,” Creed called out to Tully.

Maggie was across the room and almost out the adjoining room’s doorway when she stopped and glanced back at him. He met her eyes and gestured for her to continue. But there was no playful smile. No signal of regret or cocky swagger. Just an intensity. She could still feel it between them, so much so that when she stepped into her room, she closed the door that connected the two rooms and locked it.