The Hero She Needs (Unbroken Heroes Book 1)(19)
Boone pulled off the highway. They ended up in a small, out-of-the-way town. He pulled up in front of a diner.
“Atlas, stay in the truck.” Boone cracked the window. “I’ll bring you back breakfast.”
The dog gave a low woof.
They entered the diner. It was like stepping back in time. Wooden tables and booths, scarred linoleum floor, some kitschy clocks on the walls.
“Hi, there.” A smiling older lady intercepted them. “Take a seat. The menus are on the table. I’ll be back to take your order soon.”
Gemma went to sit in a booth near the door, but Boone grabbed her hand. He pulled her to another booth. “Sit beside me, on this side.”
She realized how alert he was, scanning the other occupants of the diner.
Nodding, she slid into the seat, and he followed her in. His thigh brushed hers and she felt a flush of warmth.
“Why this table?” she whispered.
“Safer. No entry or exit behind us. I can see everyone who enters from here.”
Did he ever shut off that constant vigilance? Did he ever relax?
Boone perused the menu. Gemma did as well and decided to keep it simple.
The waitress pulled out a notepad. “Right, what will it be?”
“The big breakfast for me,” Boone said. “Extra serving of bacon, please. And coffee, black.”
“Gotcha, handsome. And for your beautiful wife?”
Gemma blinked and glanced at Boone. He slid an arm around her. “Honey?”
Her pulse did a little skitter. “Scrambled eggs on toast, please. And orange juice and a cappuccino.”
“I’m on it.”
“So, we’re married now?” Gemma asked softly, after the waitress had gone.
“Doesn’t hurt. If the mercs track us, they’re looking for a single man and woman, not a married couple. Muddies the trail a little bit.” He looked out the window. “I see a pay phone. I want to call Vander. Anyone bothers you, come to me.”
She nodded.
She watched him walk away with that athletic stride of his. A man who could handle whatever life threw at him.
Boone Hendrix had already proven that.
“Darlin’, I don’t blame you for eyeing your man like that.” The waitress set their drinks down. “That man is a prime American hunk.” She made a humming noise.
Heat filled Gemma’s cheeks. “Ah, thanks.”
The older woman leaned in, a conspiratorial look on her face. “Tell me he can kiss like a dream, too.”
Gemma didn’t need to lie. “He can.”
The waitress pressed a hand to her heart. “Hold on to him tightly, sweetheart. They don’t make many like him anymore. I do say, he looks like a man who carries some baggage, too, though. He a cop?”
“He was in the military.”
“Ah.” The woman nodded. “When things get hot, you hold on tight. Something tells me your man needs some sweet and soft, as well as some strength. I think you’ve got all of that. I’ll get your food.”
Gemma was eating some very good eggs when Boone returned. He pulled his plate in a little bit closer.
“Vander’s up to speed. He said to lay low. And he spoke with your father.”
“He’s okay?” She straightened. “And my mom?”
Boone nodded. “Their security team has been briefed, and your parents are on their way to LA. They’re worried about you.”
She felt a wave of love. Their relationship wasn’t perfect, but they were hers, and they loved her.
“Eat up. Atlas will be desperate for his bacon soon. There’s a Walmart one town over. We’ll get some clothes for you there.”
They ate their breakfast, and Boone paid the bill. The waitress gave Gemma a wave and a wink as they left.
As predicted, Atlas was wiggling with excitement, ready to eat his bacon. The dog wolfed it down quickly.
Soon, they were back on the road.
“It’s my turn to pick the tunes next,” she said.
His lips quirked. “We’re taking it in turns? I thought the driver got to pick.”
“I’m your wife. It’s your job to make me happy.”
He shot her a look that made her skin tingle.
“I’ll do my best.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
When Boone pulled into the Shady Rest Inn just outside of Springfield, Illinois, he caught the look on Gemma’s face.
“It’s not that bad.”
She shot him a look. “Shady is the right adjective.”
“I know, but the mercs will search the good hotels looking for you. No one will expect Paul Newhouse’s daughter to stay here.”
“Boone, no one would expect anyone’s daughter to stay here.”
He cut the engine. “It’s dog friendly.”
She made an unconvinced noise. “Pretty sure Atlas doesn’t want to stay here, either.”
“Come on. We both need some rest.” He reached for the box of pizza that they’d just picked up for dinner. “Stay in the truck, so the receptionist only sees me.” He handed her the box.
She nodded.
As he walked into reception, he kept an eye on her as he showed his fake ID and paid the bored-looking lady at reception with cash. The woman was more interested in watching her television show on a small TV.