“I believe Coach going after you is part of the guy code.”

With that, she walked toward the bus.

She knew she’d laid it on pretty thick. Keith wasn’t going to hurt Coop—at least not physically. He might have a few things he wanted to say, but Coop deserved that. But if her son sweated his actions for a couple of days, she was fine with that. Let him worry. He’d earned it.

Now she just had to figure out how to act normally for the next thirty-six hours. Once they were home, it was all going to hit the fan and she would have to deal, but until then—

She stopped about twenty feet from the bus, then turned and quickly walked back toward the lobby. There was still one night left, she thought with a groan. One night where who knew what could happen.

She opened her tote and looked up the number for the hotel in Eugene. When she was connected with the front desk, she said as cheerfully as she could, “Hi, this is Ellen Fox. We have eight reservations for tonight. The high school group? I need to make a change.”

It didn’t take long to make sure her room had two beds and to cancel Lissa’s reservation. When they arrived at the hotel, the teen would be forced to room with Ellen, thereby insuring there was no late night Luka visit. On the downside, Ellen wouldn’t be sneaking into Keith’s room either, which was a high price to pay, but worth it, considering the circumstances.

“Sometimes you have to take one for the team,” she murmured as she hung up.

Thaddeus poured himself a second cup of coffee. He’d been up early after a restless night spent wanting what he couldn’t have. The shower hadn’t helped at all. Knowing Unity was sleeping just a few feet away had kept him on edge until, at close to five, he’d decided to admit defeat and start his day.

He’d circled by the front door to see if her purse was still on the entry table where she’d put it the night before. He stared at the handbag, somewhat surprised she’d stayed. He’d half expected her to bolt in the night.

She was different this time, he thought as he put down the sports section of The Seattle Times and picked up The Wall Street Journal. More open, less sad. While he wanted to believe the change was real, he knew trusting her completely would be a mistake. Not that he was doing a very good job of keeping himself emotionally distant. Every minute he spent with Unity sucked him in deeper.

“Morning.”

He looked up and saw her walking into the eating area off the kitchen. She had returned to her regular self—jeans, a T-shirt, no makeup and straight hair. While he’d enjoyed dressed-up Unity, this was the woman he knew and, well, liked.

“Good morning. Did you sleep?”