Connected (Gem Creek Bears Book 5)

by Jennifer Snyder

  “Hey. Where’s Myrtle?” she asked, her eyes shifting between the two of us.

  “Let’s just say the trip was a little much for her,” I said.

  Her face fell. “Oh no.”

  “Yep. I barely turned down the road when she made some crazy noises and smoke or steam, whatever it was, started pouring from beneath the hood.”

  Tris’s eyes widened. “That sucks.”

  “I think it’s either the radiator or the water pump,” Rafe said. “I’m gonna talk to Cato and see if he can bring the wrecker by to come pick it up.”

  “Let me grab my keys. I’ll give you a ride back and help you get your things before Cato tows it,” Tris insisted, turning for the front door of the cabin.

  “No. It’s okay,” Rafe said. “I already offered to get my truck and help her.”

  A tiny smirk twisted at the corner of Tris’s lips. “Oh. All right. Sure, that works too.”

  I narrowed my eyes on her. What was she thinking? Better yet, what was she up to?

  “Have something you’d like to say?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest.

  “Nope. I’m good.” She flashed me a wide, shit-eating grin. “You go ahead and grab Rafe’s truck. Let him help you. I’ll meet you at Ruby when you’re done getting your things.”

  I glanced around. “Where is Ruby? Did you guys move her back to her original spot?”

  Jesus, I hoped not. The last time I was here, she’d been on the other side of the campground, which was way too far from the bathhouse. Even if they’d moved her to a lot with a water hookup, she still didn’t have a bathroom. That wasn’t to say I didn’t like her, though. She had cool retro vibes and had been the perfect place for Tris to get her life back on track after everything that happened in Opal Pine.

  Ruby seemed like a good luck charm, one I hoped worked for me too.

  “We moved her to a lot near the bathhouse,” Tris said.

  Relief flooded me. “Awesome.”

  “Yeah. It’s a much better location.” Tris nodded.

  “Cool. Well, I guess I’ll meet you there in a few,” I said. Then, I shifted my attention to Rafe. “Ready?”

  “After you,” he said with a lazy grin.

  Why was he so sexy?

  As we made our way past the office, I could see Liam through the front windows. He was at a desk, talking on the phone. As though he could feel my eyes on him, he glanced up. I smiled and waved. He did the same.

  “He’s a good guy,” I said to Rafe as we continued past the office. “He’s good to Tris.”

  “He loves her.” Rafe shrugged as though it were answer enough.

  Maybe it was.

  I followed Rafe between a set of trees. The pond came into view. Tall reeds had grown up along one side, yellow flowers were in clusters all over, and there were loads of dragonflies flying around making the place look majestic.

  “Look at all the dragonflies,” I said, unable to look away from the group of them. “There are so many.”

  “It’s because of the black-eyed Susan. Dragonflies love them. Butterflies too.”

  I glanced closer at the flowers as we passed them. “Is that what they’re called? I thought they were yellow daisies.”

  “No, they’re black-eyed Susan. My mom planted them forever ago.”

  “Oh.” I glanced at him, hating how I always seemed to talk about things that made him think of his mom. Maybe that was how it was though—when you lost someone you cared about—everything reminded you of them. Even the little things. “They’re pretty.”

  “They are.”

  Something splashed in the pond, and I jumped.

  “Just a fish.” Rafe chuckled.

  “I didn’t realize there were fish in there,” I said.

  “Oh, yeah. We stock it once or twice a year. The kids all love fishing in it. It’s easier to catch something out of here than the creek.”

  I tucked a few stray strands of hair behind my ear. “I can see that being possible.”

  We continued past the pond and headed in the direction of the general store.

  “Do you want anything?” Rafe asked, nodding toward the building. “Coffee, a popsicle, some ice cream, a snack?”

  I shook my head. Nothing sounded good anymore. “I’m fine. Thanks though.”

  “Are you?” Rafe asked, running a hand through his hair while glancing at me. I could feel his eyes on me, but I refused to look at him. I knew exactly where this conversation was headed. He was about to ask how I was holding up, and that wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have. Not right now. Maybe not ever. “I’m sorry for what you’re going through. I remember how hellish it was. Just—don’t forget to eat, okay? I know nothing probably sounds good right now and that it’s hard to remember to eat.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Heck, I don’t think I was hungry for months after my parents passed. I mostly ate out of necessity, and because Dottie practically force fed us all otherwise.” The corner of his lips twisted upward as though it didn’t hurt him anymore to remember what he’d been through.

  I wondered if I’d ever feel that way. How long would it take me to get there?

  “I’ve been eating. Probably not as much as I should,” I said, hesitantly meeting his stare. The sympathy I’d expected to see wasn’t there. He didn’t pity me. He wasn’t focused on how broken I was or on my pain. Rafe just saw me, and there was comfort in that. “I’ve been managing, though.”

  “Managing is good.” Rafe grinned. “Baby steps.”

  A fluttering feeling spread through my lower stomach at the sight of his grin, and I looked away. Silence bloomed between us. We continued walking, passing between more trees and the pool on our way to the cabin he shared with his twin. When we finally reached it, I was surprised by how similar it looked to Liam and Tris’s cabin. The only noticeable difference was that it lacked a royal blue front door and flowerpots. It also seemed smaller.

  “And, here’s my truck,” Rafe said, nodding to an old Chevy. “Don’t write her off completely. She might not look the best, but she’s a smooth ride.”

  “Wow. I didn’t expect you to drive something so old.”

  My gaze drifted over the truck. It was a rust-colored orange. The paint peeled in a few places, and there were dents here and there.

  “Yeah, well. It was my dad’s. He left it to me when he passed.” He folded his arms over his solid chest and stared at the truck. “I had a Camaro, but I sold it and kept the truck. Everything I made from selling my old car I’ve put into this beast to restore it. It’s been a slow process, but Cato has cut me some deals and taught me what he can. I wish I could say I’m a whiz when it comes to stuff under the hood, but sadly I’m not.” He scratched his head, a lopsided grin forming.

  I bit the inside of my cheek to refrain from saying the dirty things that popped in my mind and kept my eyes locked on the truck. I shouldn’t be flirting. I wasn’t here for that.

  “So, what do you think we should name her?” Rafe asked, misinterpreting my silence as awkward when it was anything but.

  I stepped to the passenger side and pulled the door open. It didn’t squeak like I’d expected. Then, I slipped inside. “I need a ride in her first. Get to know her. Then, I’m sure something will come.”

  “Let me grab my keys.” He jogged past me, up the stairs, and then disappeared inside the cabin.

  I shifted my attention back to the truck. The scent of leather cleaner and whatever cologne Rafe wore lingered in the air. The interior was all leather. It was ripped in a few places but was still decently intact for its age. While I might not have thought the truck was something Rafe would drive at first sight, the longer I sat inside it, the more I realized how wrong I’d been.

  This truck was all Rafe.

  “Got them,” he said as he jogged down the steps of the porch and rounded the front of the truck. He popped open the driver door and slid behind the wheel. The seat creaked with his weight and more of his cologne made its way to my nose. It w
as spicy, yet woodsy. “All right, let’s head back to Moaning Myrtle and pick up your stuff.” A wide grin sprang onto his face. It caused his right dimple to peek out once more.

  That was quite possibly my favorite dimple in the world.

  “Thanks.” I closed the passenger door and vowed not to look at him for at least a full three minutes. I was here to heal and figure out what my next step in life was now that my mom was gone. I wasn’t here to hookup. And, hooking up was all I thought about when I looked at Rafe.

  He cranked the engine to life. It started on the first try, surprising me. Due to its age, I expected it to groan and moan before coming to life the way Myrtle sometimes did.

  “Beautiful,” Rafe whispered before shifting into reverse.

  I broke my vow and glanced at him. There was a slight curve to his lips, and a satisfied twinkle in his chocolate-colored eyes. He cared for this truck, which I found adorable.

  When he caught my stare and winked, I averted my gaze to the windshield. My lips pursed together. This truck needed a good name. That was what I needed to focus on, not how hot Rafe was.

  “Are you sure your truck is female?” I asked.

  Rafe backed out of his driveway and then shifted into drive, heading toward Myrtle. “Yeah. Why?”

  “Just wondering. I figured, if it were male, you could name him Garfield.” I’d always liked that sarcastic cat, and since the truck was orange-ish it seemed like a good fit.

  “That’s a good one, but she’s female,” Rafe said, slowing so a couple carrying fishing poles could cross the road. He waved at them, and then eased forward again once they were in the grass. “What have you got for girl names?”

  I thought for a moment before answering. “How about Daisy or Ginger?”

  “Eh.” Rafe made a face. “Daisies are white. Aren’t they?”

  “Some are orange-ish yellow.”

  “It doesn’t fit to me. Sorry. And Ginger sounds like a redhead name. If my truck were red, I’d say it would fit, but since it’s not, I say what else you got?” He cast a glance my way.

  I licked my lips, thinking. This would be harder than I thought. “How about Goldie, then?”

  “Goldie?” He scoffed as though I couldn’t be serious. “It sounds like an old lady name.”

  “Well, your truck is old.”

  He gave me a look. “Yeah, but it’s not something I want to call her out on all the time.”

  “Okay. What about Goldilocks? It’s a younger version of Goldie.”

  He glared at me and I couldn’t help the tiny giggle that burst free as I realized what I’d done. “No to both of them.”

  “But, I really like Goldilocks.” I pressed, unable to dim my smile.

  “Like Goldilocks and the three bears. Ha, Ha. Very funny. Next.”

  I laughed at his deadpan attempt. “Oh, come on. It’s a good one.”

  “Not happening. Besides, technically there are four of us if we’re only talking about my brothers and me. If we’re talking about the clan as a whole, then you’d have to add a few more.”

  “Technicalities.” I waved his words away.

  “Moving on,” he said as we made our way past the bathhouse and another cabin I presumed was either a clan member’s or his brother Nash’s place.

  “Okay. What about Marigold?”

  Rafe pursed his lips together in thought. “Marigold and Myrtle. Myrtle and Marigold. They have a nice ring together. Don’t you think?” Rafe winked and flashed me a smile that showcased his dimple again.

  “Um, no. We’re not doing matching vehicle names,” I said. “Let me think of something else.”

  I rolled the passenger window down. It was getting stuffy inside the cab. Or maybe the heat I felt was because the butterflies in my stomach kicked into overdrive at the sight of Rafe’s damn dimple again.

  “What else you got, then?”

  “How about apricot? Or pumpkin? Peaches maybe?”

  “Now you’re just making me hungry.” He licked his lips, and I thought it would be my undoing.

  I shifted my eyes to look at the road. “Those are good names, though. I mean, I could’ve said Cheeto or Dorito.”

  “Nacho. Cheese slice. Yoke.” Rafe laughed. “Sorry. I was just naming off every orange colored food I could think of… sort of like you are.”

  I folded my arms over my chest as we passed Liam and Tris’s cabin and glared at him. “Want my help?”

  “I do. I’m sorry.” He chuckled. “You have to admit it was funny, though. I mean, Cheeto? What’s with the food names?”

  I glanced at the porch of the cabin, searching for Tris. She wasn’t there. I wondered if she was already at Ruby, waiting on me.

  “There’s nothing wrong with food names,” I insisted, giving Rafe the eye again. “I used to have an orange cat named sweet potato. I got compliments on his name all the time.”

  Rafe burst into a fit of laughter. “That’s hilarious. I can see you doing something like that. I bet he was overweight and lazy too. Am I right?”

  “Yes.” I frowned. “But that’s beside the point. The point is food names are cool.”

  Rafe shook his head. “Sorry, but I’m not doing a food name. This baby deserves something better.” His hand smoothed over the steering wheel in a loving gesture. “She’s a freaking treasure.”

  “That’s it!” I snapped my fingers. “Treasure!”

  “Excuse me?”

  I held up a hand. “Hear me out. This truck means something to you because it was your dad’s, but the name Treasure also fits because of its color. Treasure is a golden orange-ish color, if we’re talking about coins.”

  Rafe pulled his truck to the side of the road in front of Myrtle and then cut the engine. Silence filled the cab, leaving me to wonder what he was thinking.

  “I like it,” he finally said, shifting to look at me. His chocolate brown eyes were warm, and a smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “It’s perfect, Penny. Thank you.”

  I licked my lips, liking the way my name fell from his lips too much. “I didn’t even come up with it—you did.”

  “Maybe, but you pointed it out and had me consider it. Thank you.” Something swirled in his eyes. Was it gratitude or something else?

  I reached for the handle on the passenger door and popped it open, cutting off whatever moment we were sharing. “You’re welcome,” I said before sliding out.

  Rafe climbed out and followed me to the trunk of my car. “Let’s push it out of the road first.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “How do we do that?”

  He nodded to Myrtle. “Get behind the wheel and steer. I’ll push.”

  I slid in the driver’s seat and watched Rafe in the rearview mirror as he lined himself up at the trunk. His biceps bulged as he leaned against Myrtle.

  “Cut the wheel to the right,” Rafe shouted.

  I attempted to focus on the task and not his muscles, but found it hard. What was it about this guy that had my libido raging? I really needed to get a freaking grip. “Okay.”

  It didn’t take us long to get Myrtle pushed to the side of the road. After, we gathered my things and then headed to Ruby. Rafe pulled into the parking spot out front and then cut the engine on his truck. Tris made her way out the front door and down the steps at the sound of us pulling up.

  “Did you get everything?” she asked.

  I nodded. “We pushed Myrtle off the road too so people can get around her.”

  “Once we unload your stuff, I’ll give Cato a call and see if we can get that wrecker out here soon,” Rafe insisted.

  “Okay. Thanks.” I flashed him a smile and then started unloading my stuff.

  Before long, the three of us had all my things packed into Ruby. I hadn’t brought much with me, just my clothes and a few personal items. Everything else was in the storage unit with my mom’s stuff.

  “I think this is the last suitcase,” Rafe said.

  He hoisted the largest suitcase I owned from the back of
his truck and started toward Ruby’s steps. His muscles bulged and flexed like they had when he pushed Myrtle out of the road, causing my heart to kick-start inside my chest. I crammed my hands into the back pockets of my shorts, reminding myself I wasn’t here to hookup with anyone. I was here to heal.

  “Need anything else?” Rafe asked as he leisurely descended the steps to Ruby.

  “Nope. Thanks for your help. Tell Cato the keys are in Myrtle and that there’s no rush on figuring out what’s wrong with her,” I said.

  “Sure.” He ran a hand through his hair and flashed me that same crooked smirk that accentuated the dimple in his right cheek. Why was he so cute? “Well, I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

  “Yeah. Let me know if Cato has any questions for me or anything,” I said.

  Rafe nodded before climbing in his truck. “Will do.”

  “See ya, Treasure,” I said.

  Rafe grinned. He cranked the engine of his truck to life and then pulled away.

  “Treasure?” Tris asked. “Did I miss something? Are you two on a pet name basis now?”

  I balked at her. “What? No. We named his truck together. Treasure was the name we picked.” My cheeks heated as I headed toward Ruby’s front steps.

  “Aw. How cute,” Tris teased.

  “No. It’s not even like that,” I said, feeling more defensive than I should.

  I wasn’t upset with Tris; I was upset with myself. Allowing Rafe to get me all hot and bothered had pulled me from my state of mourning. It made me feel like a shitty daughter.

  “Okay,” Tris said as we stepped inside Ruby. “Then what’s it like?”

  “He heard me call my car Myrtle, and then I told him the story of how we named her Moaning Myrtle one night because of the crazy noises she made. He thought it was cool and said he didn’t have a name for his truck, so we thought of one together. Treasure was something he picked. He said the truck belonged to his dad and that it felt like a treasure. I just pointed out the name, and he liked it. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  The grin fell from Tris’s face. I knew it was because of my tone and immediately regretted it. I was being snippy again.