Girl on a Slay Ride Read Online Free

it?”
    Mallory got a ten-dollar bill out of his wallet. He missed his pocket and the wallet fell to the floor. He said, “It’s the best time of year for fishing.”
    He bent down and retrieved his wallet. The woman had a large mouth. She was smiling at him as he straightened up.
    “Going after salmon in the Strait?”
    “I’m a trout man myself,” Mallory said. He laid the ten-dollar bill on the counter.
    “It’ll be eight dollars plus tax,” she said. “Number five.” She gave Mallory his change, a dollar bill and sixty-eight cents in silver.
    The silver slid out the side of his hand and rattled on the glass top of the counter. The woman laid his key down.
    “You need a beer,” she said. “Best thing in the world for a case of jitters.” She smiled at him again.
    “I haven’t got the jitters,” Mallory said. He scooped up his change and the key and jammed them angrily into his pocket. “I worked all day and drove half the night. I’m just tired.”
    The woman leaned forward a little more so that her breasts pressed harder on the counter and pushed up, spreading the top of her blouse. “Sure you won’t have that beer?”
    She was attractive in a loose, lush way that might have interested Mallory some other time. He said, “All I want is some dinner and a good sleep.”
    “There’s an all-night café two blocks north,” she said. Her smile hadn’t changed, but he saw the interest in her eyes beginning to waver.
    “I know where it is,” Mallory said.
    “All right. Don’t bite my head off.”
    “Sorry,” Mallory said. “I’m bushed.”
    “A good steak’ll fix you up,” she said. “If your wife snores too loud, come over and tell me about it.”
    Mallory opened the door. He forced himself to look back at her and grin. “I’ll do that,” he said. He went out into the dampness of the night.
    He walked angrily to the wagon and drove it to the carport beside unit five. Oh, he’d done a fine job of being inconspicuous, Mallory thought. On top of acting as guilty as an absconding bank clerk when he signed the register and dropped his money all over the place, the motelkeeper had got a yen for him. He might just as well have worn a sign around his neck advertising the fact he was carrying forty thousand dollars worth of securities and had another man’s wife with him.
    He cut the motor and the lights and got out of the wagon.
    Denise said, “Is something wrong, Cliff? You were gone a long time.”
    “The lady innkeeper invited me to a beer party,” Mallory said. He reached behind the seat and brought out their luggage and the briefcase.
    “Invited you? Didn’t you register me, too?”
    “Sure,” he said. “But that didn’t mean much to her. There are husbands who leave their wives in motels and go off to the nearest tavern. She just let me know that I didn’t have to go two whole blocks away for my fun.”
    “Husbands who leave their wives,” Denise murmured. “Husband—wife. That sounds nice, Cliff. Doesn’t it sound nice to you?”
    They were going up the two steps to the small poreh of the unit. Mallory set the bags down and got the door key from his pocket. “Sure. It sounds great.”
    He unlocked the door, picked up the bags and carried them inside. Denise followed closely. She shut the door and turned the night latch over with a positive click. She found the light switch and a pink-shaded lamp by the bed came on.
    Mallory set down the bags and the briefcase and faced her. She was still standing by the door. She ran her hands over her thighs to smooth the wrinkles from her skirt. Raw desire glowed in her eyes and flushed her skin.
    He moved toward her.
    Her hands reached out and caught his. She whispered. “You won’t want to go to a tavern—not tonight.”
    “I didn’t expect to,” Mallory said. His lips felt dry as he tried to grin.
    Her fingertips stroked his palms. Suddenly she clamped her grip down hard. “Let’s pretend it’s eight years ago—let’s find