Attraction - a fraudulent marriage

25. Virginia (new)

Tom didn't say a word.

"There's an address here. We can ring the bell."

I allowed him to stay silent. We couldn't be sure this guy was Luke anyway. But to make the silence less noticeable, I put on some music and leaned back. Tom would have to talk eventually. Much to my relief, his silence wasn't of the angry kind.

We continued to drive along the highway, or interstate, or whatever it was called. It was a large road at least, with plenty of cars going in both directions. We got stuck in traffic outside Washington DC, and it seemed as though the city was taunting us for slighting the chance to visit. I'd always wanted to see the White House and the Capitol Building for myself. Perhaps we could stop by on the drive home. I would ask once Tom had finished thinking.

When he'd driven almost four hours without a break, I decided that we had to eat something.

"I'm kind of hungry." I had a feeling he wouldn't have reacted well if I said that he should eat something. It was better to pretend that my stomach was killing me.

"What do you want to eat?" he asked, seemingly not bothered that we hadn't said a word to each other for quite some time.

"Now that's an interesting question." I couldn't help myself.

Tom grinned with his entire face. "You never stop, do you?"

"I can go on for hours."

"Is that a challenge?" he asked.

"Jeez, this... I never get the last word. You're impossible." I was laughing, but it was a breathless laugh laced with awakening interest.

Tom got us off the interstate at the next exit and drove right up to a KFC. The second the car stopped, I turned my full attention on my driver. The food could wait now that I had him trapped in my neat little web.

"You know, this car has tinted windows," I said as innocently as I could.

"It does," Tom replied.

"Do you know what that means?"

"I can guess."

I ran my hand up his thigh, watching his gaze darken. "You're about to find out."

* * * *

"I'm not sure about this," Tom said, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

We stood parked outside a small house, white picket fence, a dog on the porch. I'd checked the address two times already, but Tom had cold feet. I didn't blame him. His nerves shone through again and again whenever he said something or made a move of some kind.

"Do you want to call him first, you mean?" I still hadn't found a phone number.

"No, let's go. I can't back out when we've come all this way." He was brave. Not stupid.

The air outside was disgustingly humid. It felt like someone had wrapped me up in a wet blanket and turned on the sauna. It was late afternoon, just the right time for a blast of heat. I almost wanted to get back into the car where it had been relatively cool.

"I'm not wearing the right clothes for this," I muttered, shielding my eyes from the beating sun.

"Not sure he'd appreciate a suit," Tom replied.

I'd thought about the heat itself, but figured it had been easy to misinterpret. "Shorts. I want shorts."

"Do you have some with you?"

"Yeah, but I'll get them later. Let's get this over with." I didn't want to give him a chance to walk away. Not when we'd been in a car for hours. Hopefully, Tom wouldn't want to drive right back after this visit. If it was the right house, that is.