Page 98

Her voice cut off the second she took in the scene: me draped over Sterling’s shoulder, his hand gripping the back of my thighs, my hair swinging like I’d been abducted by a very committed lumberjack.

And beside her, cradling a Styrofoam cup of coffee, stood Harvey.

Both of them blinked at us.

Harvey squinted, his jaw giving a small click. “Huh. Thought I was havin’ one of my visions again.”

Hattie elbowed him without looking away from me. “Well. I suppose that’s…one way to handle things.”

Harvey nodded sagely. “It’s something I would do.”

“Hattie, tell Sienna the inn is booked solid starting tonight and there are no vacancies, this room included,” Sterling ordered.

Hattie’s jaw dropped. “Booked? Uhh⁠—”

I couldn’t see his face on account of the fact that my head was eye level to his perfect ass, but he must have given her a look because when I turned my head her expression shifted instantly. “Oh, yes, I see.” She clasped her hands under her chin as she grinned at me. “Honey, I’m afraid he’s right. We’ve got that pie convention in town, and I was just headed to your room to tell you.”

I groaned. “Come on!”

But she only winked at me as Sterling carried me off down the hall like he’d already paid for express shipping.

“Oh, and Sienna,” she called after us in a voice bright with mischief. “You enjoy yourself. And don’t you worry, I’ll make sure this room is absolutely unavailable from now until the second coming.”

Beside her, Harvey lifted his coffee in a solemn toast.

“Hattie!” I yelped, finally finding my voice and my dignity as I tried to wriggle off Sterling’s shoulder. “You traitor! You—put me down!”

Sterling’s arm tightened like iron around my legs as he moved down the hall. “Stop squirming,” he muttered.

“I trusted you!” I called back to Hattie, kicking uselessly as she leaned into the hallway, both hands pressed dramatically to her heart.

“Don’t be silly, Sienna,” she drawled. “We’ll come visit!”

“Visit?!” I sputtered, but Sterling was already pushing through the inn’s front doors.

Cold night air hit me, carrying the smell of pine as the harsh glow of the parking lot lights washed over us.

And then I saw Ryder leaning against Sterling’s truck like a man who had been waiting to enjoy a show. He straightened when he saw us. “Oh good,” he said. “She’s still conscious.”

My outrage surged hard enough to momentarily outweigh the humiliation of being upside down. “Ryder,” I snapped, glaring at him from my wildly undignified angle, “do something!”

He looked me over, unimpressed. “What, like…clap?”

That did it.

“I’d like to report a kidnapping,” I informed him.

Ryder shook his head and opened the passenger door of Sterling’s truck. “I’m sorry, Ms. Blake, but you can only report one crime a night. It’s a Blackwood law.”

“What?!”

“Sorry,” he said with zero actual apology in his voice. “It’s a town ordinance. Very official.”

Sterling grunted in approval and didn’t even break stride. He simply shifted me higher on his shoulder and stepped toward the open door as if Ryder were the world’s smuggest valet.

“No—wait—Sterling, put me⁠—!”

The passenger seat swallowed me a second later, my breath stuttering as Sterling leaned in, one hand braced beside my hip while the other drew the seat belt across me. The buckle clicked into place, and then he slammed the door shut with the finality of a prison cell.