Page 13 of Mountain Bean Dream
“Tuesday.”
“Right.” I needed to make sure I added that to my calendar. If I don’t hold up my end of the deal, I sure as heck can’t expect him to uphold his.
I grabbed my uneaten bag of chips and headed up the dirt path back toward the motel with Jeremy a few steps behind me. The path ended at the corridor separating the north wing of the motel from the south. The laundry and storage facilities on the right, the side with the motel check-in suite on my left. Together we crossed the short distance to the front of the motel, where the parking lot was, as well as the entrances to the rooms. He walked me to my door, the third one south of the check-in suite.
“Thanks. There wasn’t any need to accompany me.”
“It’s all part of the service.”
“What service is that?” I put my key into the lock and twisted it open.
“Well, if I’m going to be your fake boyfriend—”
“My temporary boyfriend, in order to make my ex jealous.” Deep down, I wanted to show Derek that I was more than just someone to pass the time with—I was a suitable partner, someone who could do the long haul. I’d just never had a chance to prove that to anyone.
He leaned against the doorframe. “Correction. If I’m going to be yourtemporaryboyfriend, then it’s best I play the part most convincingly.” He straightened up to his full height and put his hands up. “Which includes ensuring the lady makes it home safely. But please, let me know if I overstep.”
He was too sweet.
“I’ll try my best.” I removed my hat and fluffed my hair. Stepping into my room, I tossed the toque toward the bed but kept my hand on the door. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Molly.” His smile fell as he spun on the heels of his work boots and started walking away.
“Jeremy?” I called, poking my head out.
“Yeah?”
“Are you hungry? Would you like to grab a late-night snack with me?”
“I could go for a slice of pizza.”
Actually, once he mentioned it, pizza sounded great. All cheesy and greasy, loaded with pepperoni and pineapple. My stomach rumbled at the thought. “Perfect. Let me grab my purse.”
I tucked the blanket back into the bottom of the drawer and retrieved my personal effects. Keys dangling from my fingers after I locked up, I asked if he minded if I drove.
There was a slight hesitation on his part, but he drove a big truck—a pig on gas kind—whereas I drove a tiny car.
He glanced around and slowly nodded. “Sure.”
“I promise my driving isn’t that bad.”
“Where’s your vehicle?”
“Cabernet’s at the end. Single door ding spot.” I pointed to the south end of the motel we started walking toward.
He came to a full stop. “Wait! You named your car after a wine?”
I tipped my head to the side. “Yeah, it’s my favourite blend. Is that weird?” I always had a bottle of the red available for any impromptu moment.
“Not at all.”
“Your truck have a name?”
He put a few steps between us while sweeping random pebbles with his boot onto the asphalt.
“It does.”
“And?” I waited for him to announce it.