Garrett

"Are you okay?"

Ivy said nothing. Only blinked and stared straight ahead with her mouth parted and a red slash of color across her cheeks. She'd been like that for at least five minutes, and it scared me. More than our near accident had.

"Ivy!" Nothing. I reached over the console and gripped her chin, forcing her to look at me. "For fuck's sake, Ivy. Are you okay?"

She pulled in a deep breath, and her pupils contracted as she came back from... from wherever her mind had retreated. With a shuddering breath, she put her hand over my wrist and squeezed.

"I'm fine." Crisp and cold and an outright lie.

I turned the key in the ignition, relief flooding through me when the tires didn't sink into the muddy roadside slush. When the deer bolted across the road, I went against every best driving practice and braked and swerved to avoid hitting it. In this instance, poor choices it served us well. The car behind us was going so fast it would have rear-ended us if I'd come to a sudden halt in the middle of the road.

Everything was over in a matter of seconds. Hands gripping the steering wheel and heart hammering, I watched the doe bound into the woods before turning to look at Ivy. The relieved grin on my face fell the moment I saw her frozen.

"Ivy—"

"I'm fine, Mr. James," she said. This time, her words were a brittle shell holding back panic. It wouldn't take much to shatter it, but I didn't know what the outcome would look like.

The rest of the drive ended much the way it began. She didn't speak again. Reclining her chair, she turned to the window and folded her hands under her face, but she didn't sleep. Her eyes were closed, but every line of her body remained rigid.

The moment we arrived at the hotel, she bolted from the car, mumbling something about checking in while I got things settled with the bags and valet. Neither of those things took longer than a couple of minutes. Avon, New York might be small, but the Apple Festival drew people in from all over the country. People with money. And that meant the hotels were well run and luxurious.

Walking into the lobby, I scanned the space and frowned. She wasn't at the front desk, nor was she waiting for me on one of the plush cream lounges. A group exiting the elevators parted, and I glimpsed of her curves pushing through the crowd.

"Ivy," I said, grabbing her by the arm before she could get into the elevator. A woman passing by raised her brows, and I bared my teeth at her in a poor imitation of an apologetic grin. To her credit, she didn't move on until Ivy nodded.

The doors closed, and the elevator jolted upward. Hand still around her arm, I maneuvered her into a corner and pressed my hip into the wall to keep her from skirting around me. Only my mounting anger over her strong behavior kept me from appreciating how good she smelled. Or how close her full rosebud lips were to mine.

"Mr. James," she protested, squirming against my grip. It only shifted my balance and forced us close enough I could feel the heat of her thigh against my leg. My brain threatened to shift gears. "What if someone else gets on?"

"Then they'll see us," I snapped. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Her features tightened and settled into stone. "I'm tired, and I don't like road trips. Do you have something against me wanting to get to our room quickly so I can freshen up and maybe rest?"

When she put it like that, suddenly I was the one being absurd, but she'd been acting odd since I picked her up. What if she'd thought more about what had happened between us the other night and was now uncomfortable around me? My gut told me that wasn't what this was about, but I dropped her arm and stepped away.

"My apologies." I straightened my suit jacket and adjusted the cuffs of my shirt. "I'll need a copy of the room key, and then you're free to do as you wish as long as you make the scheduled events."

"Of course." She licked her lips and pushed back her dark hair.

The elevator chimed, and the doors opened on our floor. She led the way; her posture was more relaxed than it had been in the car. I stood behind her while she inserted the card and tried to keep my eyes from lingering on the shape of her ass in her leggings. That minor incident in the elevator was fucking with all my good intentions.

"Oh no," she cried out when she reached the end of the short entryway.

"What?" I rushed to her side, seeing the problem at once. Where two queen-sized beds were supposed to be was a single king. One bed. For the both of us. "Shit."