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receptionist area, and Joseph approached them with a smile.
He checked to ensure Eva kept the baseball cap low over her eyes
and remained close by but not in clear sight, either.
    “ Hola. Querríamos un cuarto superior, a
fines de un pasillo en el segundo piso, por favor .”
    The receptionist smiled and began the
booking. Joseph peeked over his shoulder again, jaw stiff and hand
hovering next to his lower back where his pistol remained holstered
and hidden. When a man walked in, he cursed and stepped closer to
Eva. The hotel patron didn’t even glance their way but instead
walked straight to the elevator and out of sight.
    Once he had paid for the suite, Joseph led
Eva up a flight of stairs to the second floor and to the room at
the end of the hallway. Next to them stood the custodial closet, so
if he heard anyone sneaking around outside, he’d know they came
either to clean or to cause trouble. Much less traffic than, say,
the first room on the hallway.
    Joseph opened the door, did a quick once-over
of the layout, and shooed Eva inside. Twisting the deadbolt behind
him, he pressed his ear against the cool metal to listen for any
suspicious activity before following Eva. The carpet was a navy
blue color, the walls one of those shades of white—ecru maybe?—and
a king-size bed rested in the middle of the room, along with a
desk. No couch, no roll-up cots. Just like he wanted.
    By nightfall, he would be between those
sheets with Eva.
     
    ***
     
    “There’s only one bed.” Eva turned to Joseph,
eyebrow raised. “We need another one.”
    “You might feel the need for two. I don’t.”
He looked out the window, closed the blinds tight, and hopped onto
the mattress. “Mmm…soft. Come try it out.” He patted a spot two
inches away from him.
    Is this how Eve felt when Satan offered her
an apple? Just one bite, my dear . She shook her head. “No,
thanks. I’ll stand.” Her stomach rumbled, and she flushed.
    “Hungry? Here’s dinner.” He gestured toward
the tray on the nightstand holding someone’s room service they’d
grabbed off the cart they’d passed earlier—dropping a few dollars
in its place. “Taco or burrito?”
    She chose the taco and sat down at the desk
across from him, unwrapping the paper from her taco. He remained
quiet for a while, but she kept stealing glances at him while she
ate. He looked even more handsome than she remembered. It seemed
unfair for a man to appear so hot even while stuffing his mouth.
His biceps tightened every time he raised his arms. As he took his
last bite, she sighed at the muscles bulging in front of her.
    “Enjoying yourself?” He grinned and
stretched.
    “Hmm? Oh, yes, it’s very good.” Her cheeks
heated, and she jumped up, tossing her half-eaten taco in the
trash. She regretted her impulsive act before the food hit the
plastic bag. It had to be one of the best tacos she’d had in
months.
    “I meant your entertainment. Not your dinner.
I couldn’t help but notice you staring at me. Like what you see,
pumpkin?” He flexed his arms.
    She glared.
    He burst out laughing.
    “I told you not to call me that. I don’t like
it.”
    “You didn’t mind it before.”
    “Before you cheated on me, you mean?”
    His eyes narrowed, and she bit her lip. Why
did she bring up the topic she’d hoped to avoid? She tensed and
waited for the explanations and excuses to begin anew. Instead, he
surprised her by shrugging and facing away. She breathed a sigh of
relief but groaned when she saw the bottle of wine he’d grabbed
from behind him.
    “No, thanks. I need all my brains around
you.”
    “Suit yourself.” He strode across the room
and set the bottle on the bureau to retrieve two plastic cups. “But
I know you well enough to know you’d love some. It will help you
relax.”
    “That’s what I’m scared of,” she
muttered.
    He chuckled and turned earnest green eyes on
her. “In all honesty, you should have some. You saw a lot of gore
tonight. Things most