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don’t have a car,” Mick said. A twinge of ineptness crept over
him.
    “No problem. I’ll swing by in the morning and pick
you up. How’s seven sharp?” Barry asked, running a
hand through a mop of tousled blonde hair. “Need to get an early start.”
    “I’ll meet you right down there,” Mick told him,
pointing to the front entrance down below.
    “Great,” Barry smiled. “What a relief. What room are
you in? I’ll go take care of the tab right now.”
    “I’m in 209, and hey … thanks,” Mick smiled, savoring
the relief that was now calming his previously tormented insides. “This cup of
coffee tastes so much better now.”
    The men laughed, shaking hands again. Mick returned
to the room, a bit lighter on his feet.
    ****
    Cara woke up to the flickering glow of a muted TV. She
sat up, seeing Mick’s bed rumpled but vacant. She stood up, feeling a wave of
uncertainty. Just then she heard the lock turn in the door.
    A gust of cold air swooshed into the room as Mick
balanced the two paper cups and closed the door, locking it behind him.
    “What happened? Where were you?” Cara accepted the
cup he held out to her.
    “I just ventured out for some coffee, thought you’d
want a hot chocolate,” he said, removing his coat and hat. “It looks like we’ll
be holed up here for a few days. You okay with that?” Mick asked.
    “Sure. I guess. Why, what’s going on?” Cara peeled
the plastic lid back. “Is everything all right?” Her stomach tensed. They’d had
enough setbacks so far.
    “Oh yeah,” Mick smiled. “This is good. I got a job
and our room’s paid for in full,” he told her, raising his cup in a toast.

 
    Chapter
Eight
     
    “It is?” Cara sat back down on the bed, dumbfounded.
She was trying to decipher the pleased look that had softened the often tight
lines of Mick’s face.
    “It’s the weirdest thing, but hey … shit happens for
a reason,” he said, laughing as he sat down next to her. His scent swarmed around
them. It was cool and crisp as the fresh, night air escaped from his clothes,
the heat of the room seasoning him.
    Mick ran through the series of events that transpired
while getting their beverages.
    “Wow, that’s great. Is there anything I can do to
help out?” Cara asked.
    “Yeah,” Mick grinned. “Maybe you could walk down and
visit me during my lunch break or something. Barry mentioned that his new
business isn’t far from here, some eatery or something.”
    Mick’s eyes rested on hers, holding her gaze. Cara
gripped her cup, feeling her breath still inside her lungs. His expression was
peculiar, not one of the usual looks he often wore.
    “Ah, okay.” Cara chuckled. “I’ll come down. I just
wanted to try and help out with the medical expenses, that’s all,” she said. She suddenly felt nervous and wasn’t sure why. Mick’s gruff
tone broke through.
    “You’ll have plenty of time to work later. You have
to let your arm heal,” he said, running a hand over his head. Mick’s hair was
growing in, his scalp covered with a thin coating of dark growth. Cara wondered
how long he would let it grow out before buying clippers. “I need a shower. Barry’s
picking me up out front at about seven tomorrow morning, so…” His words
stalled. Cara stood and claimed a chair at the small table.
    “Okay, well, I’m taking one tomorrow. My hair’s
starting to stink,” she told him, feeling her lips press together.
    “I don’t smell anything on you that I shouldn’t.”
Mick turned, his eyes pinning her again. Cara laughed, fussing with the lid of
her hot chocolate, fighting a reserve that felt odd.
    His feet scuffed across the carpeting as he strolled
to the bathroom, closing the door. The fan kicked on, then the sounds of spraying
water.
    Cara sat back in the chair, trying to follow a TV
show that’d been muted for the entire episode. The mere thought of Mick being
behind that door, naked and washing his body under a torrent of soapy water,
had her