Folding my arms as he took the exit, I sat back and resisted the urge to throw a major hissy fit that would make a two-year-old proud. He picked the first lodging we came across.

“This isn’t even a hotel,” I pointed out as he turned into the gravel parking lot. “It’s a motel, as in the doors are on the outside. The kind of doors that serial killers kick in while you’re sleeping.”

“It’ll work.” He double-parked the SUV. “It’s not a high traffic area. Looks like only two other people are here, and if a serial killer kicks in our door, it’ll be the last door they’ll be kicking in.”

“It looks like the Bates Motel,” I muttered.

Seth laughed.

I hated his laugh. Okay, I didn’t hate his laugh. It was a nice, deep sound. He was already out of the Porsche by the time I unlocked my seatbelt. He tapped my window, a look of impatience settling into his features. I rolled my eyes again, and he responded by opening the door for me.

“Need help?” he offered. “I can pick you up, toss you over my shoulder, and carry you in.” He leaned in, placing one hand on the seat beside my leg. A strand of his hair fell loose, curving toward the corner of his lips. “We could pretend we’re newlyweds.”

I gaped at him. “No way.”

“Maybe they have a honeymoon suite. Oh, this sounds like a plan.” He stepped back. “I hope they have a heart-shaped bed.”

Sliding out of the seat, I gently slammed the door shut behind me and then shouldered past him. Did places really have heart-shaped beds? That was kind of gaudy.

He caught right up with me with his long-legged strides. “Stick close.”

I didn’t respond as he opened the door below the neon-pink OPEN sign. It was a small lobby, surprisingly clean and kind of cozy, full of country décor. Lots of baskets and red berries, green vines, and small, wooden ladders covered every square inch. The smell of vanilla and some kind of fruit was pleasant.

Seth strolled up to the desk and smacked his hand on the bell. A white door opened and an older lady bustled out, folding a magazine. She took one look at him and her mouth dropped open. He propped his hip against the counter, his lips forming into a slow grin that probably even had Granny fanning herself.

“I need a room for me and my girl,” he said in that voice of his.

Turning away, I rolled my eyes yet again and started inspecting the nearest basket. There were little toiletries inside. Cute. I moved along the shelf, coming to a set of baskets that appeared empty.

“Well, Sugah, we do have quite a few rooms tonight, so you’re in luck,” the lady said, and then Seth spoke, his voice low.

My fingers slipped over something smooth. I picked it up, and my mouth dropped open.

The baskets were full of condoms.

Oh my God. What kind of motel had baskets full of condoms in their lobby, in cute little woven baskets? I stared at the wrapper marked extra-large, ribbed-for-her-pleasure. Where were we and what kind of people typically stayed here?

“Josie.”

I turned to Seth. His gaze moved from me to my hand as his brows rose and his grin transformed into a heart-stopping smile that reached his eyes, lightening them and warming them up. Seth not smiling or smirking was beautiful, but him smiling? It was…wow. Breath-stealing.

And I was still holding the condoms.

Heat blasted my face.

“They’re on the house, honey,” the lady said behind the counter. “Take as many as you want.” She winked. “I would if I was you.”

Oh my God.

As if it was a tiny pit viper, I dropped the condom back in the basket, folded my arms, and refused to touch anything else in this place.

Seth turned back to the lady and he got a room key. Oddly, I didn’t see him pull out any identification or money before he came to where I waited. “Did you get enough condoms, honey?”

“Shut up,” I hissed, storming out the door he so gallantly opened for me. “Did you pay her?” I asked once we were both outside.

He laughed. “No. That’s the cool thing about compulsions. Get a lot of free stuff. Like that sweet Porsche.”

I tripped over my feet. “That’s so…so wrong.”

“You’re just jealous you can’t do it yet.”

Okay. Maybe I was a little jealous. I followed him past several doors, and we ended up at the very last one that was next to a field and a thick grove of trees. I bet he’d made sure he’d gotten this room for some ninja reason. When the door opened, I was relieved to see this wasn’t a honeymoon suite.

Carrying the same theme from the lobby, it was all kinds of country up in the room. Baskets. Wooden ladders covered in vine and berries. A pumpkin-spice scent greeted us.

There was one bed.

Not even a big one.

Or even a couch.

I whirled around. “There’s only one bed.”

“Yeah,” he replied, turning to the door. “There was only one last night and we made it work. Well, you turned me into a full-length body pillow, but it worked.”

Oh geez. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before I reopened them. “This isn’t acceptable. We need two beds.”

“It’ll be fine. Stay in here. I’m going to get our bags.”

Then he was gone, and I stomped my foot. Once. And then twice, like a five-year-old, but I didn’t care how stupid it was. I couldn’t sleep in the same bed with him again, because apparently I was a cuddler, and I was so not going to do that a second time.