You're the One That I Want

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You're the One That I Want Page 12

by Susan May Warren

“I’m already hurt. My entire body hurts not being with you. See, the more I got thinking about this daughter I have, the more I realized, I want Scotty to meet her. Because I don’t know the first thing about being a dad, but you somehow make me believe that I could be one and . . .” He glanced at Casper, who stared at him with a sort of horror as if he’d grown a foot out of the top of his head. “Uh, this is a private conversation, Casper.”

  “Well, what do you want me to do? Go sit in a corner, plug my ears, and hum?”

  “Fine. Scotty, the point is, please come to Deep Haven with me, and we can see what happens from there. But please, come with me. If I remember correctly, you promised on the raft.”

  “I didn’t promise.” She angled the folder on her lap, thumbing the pages as if thinking. “I don’t know. I’m pretty busy. I have a couch to sleep on, a take-out order waiting—”

  “Scotty!”

  A smile broke out on her face and it loosened the claws in Owen’s chest.

  “Here’s what I got. Two days. I’ll fly you down, bring Casper in, find out what’s going on, make sure he’s treated fairly, and then I gotta get back. Two days, max. That’s all I can do. Take it or leave it.”

  Two days. Owen sighed as if disappointed. But boo-yah, he could work with two days. It had taken him only twelve hours on the boat to get her to say yes to his proposal. Why, two days and he’d have them hitched and on a honeymoon in Cancún.

  “I think I can make two days work.” He reached out and took her hand.

  She yanked it away. “Not two days of romance, Owen. Two days of me working. And you getting it through your head that what we had was a quick and easy fling—”

  “A fling? A fling includes a lot more—”

  “Still here, still listening,” Casper said. “And you might want to consider your audience.”

  “I just meant that we didn’t have a fling, Scotty. What we had—have—is more. Deeper. Better.”

  Just for a second, he saw the slightest glimmer of her guard falling, like it had those first few hours on the raft when he’d managed to get her smiling.

  But, “I’m only going to make sure Kimble here doesn’t run for the border.”

  “I’m not a fugitive!” Casper said, pressing a hand to his head.

  “Pipe down,” Owen said.

  “Stop calling me a criminal.”

  “Owen, I’m serious: no funny business. Don’t try to charm me with your sweet talk. I’m not falling for it. Whatever we were, we’re over. It was a fun little fantasy, but our lives are vastly different. I belong here, in Alaska, and you need to go home.” She got up. “I’ll get us booked on the next flight out. In the meantime, you want something to eat?”

  “Oh yes, pizza. Please, a pizza—pepperoni and mushroom.”

  “I’ll see what I can rustle up.” She walked to the door.

  When it closed behind her, Casper turned to Owen. “Did I hear you right? Did you just finagle a date out of my misfortune?”

  Owen grinned. “Hush up, prisoner 24601.”

  Clearly Owen hadn’t listened to a word she’d said about keeping their next two days professional.

  Not with the way he slept, looking so heartbreakingly sweet, those long lashes brushing his cheeks, his tousled curls tempting her to twirl them around a finger, then run her hand over that spicy red-gold beard. He curled up in the window seat like a two-year-old, the stress of the past five hours creeping up on him, turning him once again into the wounded man who’d nearly died on her watch.

  She was bringing him home, just like she’d promised.

  Next to her in the aisle seat, Casper shoved the in-flight magazine into the pocket of his seat and leaned back. “You had to get the last row? These seats don’t recline.”

  “Not only were these the last three seats on this packed flight, but you should be glad you’re not handcuffed,” she said under her breath. “I’m doing you a favor.”

  Casper grimaced. “I know. I’m sorry. I just can’t believe they think I might have killed Monte Riggs. I didn’t—”

  “Shh. Keep your voice down. People don’t like murderers on the plane with them.”

  “I didn’t—” Then he saw the grin she flashed him. “Oh.”

  “He seems to enjoy the idea that you’re in trouble,” Scotty said. “I couldn’t help it.”

  Casper glanced at his sleeping brother. “Yeah, well, I used to be the official troublemaker in the family. For a long time, I thought maybe it was my fault—that I’d somehow set a bad example.”

  She considered that. “He told me that he felt you were always pushing him to be better. It might have had something to do with feeling like he let you down.”

  Casper said nothing. Sighed.

  “For the record, I don’t know you, Casper, so I don’t know if you’re the kind of man who could kill someone. But let’s all remember it’s just questioning. Even if Owen seems to be turning the knife a bit, you should know that while the Anchorage police processed you out, he spent a good amount of energy trying to convince me to stick around and make sure you didn’t get pinned for a crime you didn’t commit.”

  “That has more to do with you than me.” He raised his eyebrow, a twinkle in his eyes. “‘If you give a mouse a cookie . . .’ And you managed to hand over the entire Keebler package to him with your two-day agreement.”

  “I’m not getting involved. Deep Haven has a sheriff’s department, and I have no doubt they know what they’re doing. Hence my round-trip ticket. Trust me, I’m going to drop you off and drive away.” Return to her new life in Anchorage. No entanglements, no broken heart. And no arguments. “So Owen told me all about his family on the boat, but remind me . . .”

  For a moment, it appeared Casper wanted to chase down her words about not getting involved. Then, “Right. Okay. Uh, my parents, John and Ingrid, run the Evergreen Resort. Actually, that’s not true—my older brother, Darek, took over. He has a son, Tiger, who’s seven, and a baby girl, Joy. His wife, Ivy, is our assistant county attorney.”

  “That could get interesting.”

  “You’re the one who said it was just questioning.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I’m sure he told you about Jace and Max—”

  “Not really. Jace is the one who married your sister Eden on the day of the big fight, right?”

  Casper made a face. “He told you about that, huh?”

  “It’s his biggest regret—of course he did. But I don’t know details.” She glanced at Owen, lowered her voice. “What happened, exactly?”

  Casper looked away at the family sleeping opposite them. The sun had fallen, their red-eye flight the last out of Anchorage. But to the east, the slightest edging of gray lipped the horizon. In two hours, the sun would light up the sky with brilliance, just in time for them to land.

  “I’m not sure how far back you want to go.”

  “You know an Owen I’ve never met. Start there. Because he thinks he doesn’t really have the right to go home. That he doesn’t belong. And I don’t think it started with the fight.”

  “We were his biggest fans.”

  “Even you?”

  Casper shrugged. “Maybe I was a little jealous. Hockey came so easy to him. He was playing varsity in eighth grade, left home at sixteen to start playing in the juniors. Got drafted at eighteen with the Wild, then traded to the Blue Ox—a regular hometown hero. They gave him a 3.1-million-dollar contract.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. Then, one night after a game, he mixed it up with a few players in a pond game and got into a brawl. I think he’d been drinking, although I got that part from Max, my sister Grace’s husband.”

  “How did Max know—was he there?”

  “He was the one who accidentally shoved his hockey stick into Owen’s eye, broke the orbit, and ended his career.”

  She made a silent, round O. “That’s . . . some interesting family dynamics.”

  “Max was—is—sick about it. Especially s
ince he still plays for the Blue Ox. And Jace coaches for them. He used to be captain, back when Owen was playing. Owen and Eden were pretty close in those days—she sort of took care of him while he was starting out in the majors. She took it pretty hard when he left town.”

  “After the wedding?”

  “No, he left before then, shortly after his injury. Just . . . gave her the keys to his apartment and his car and took off. Next time we saw him, when he showed up for Darek and Ivy’s wedding, he was wearing the eye patch, angry, broken, and hungry for something.”

  “And that’s when he met . . . uh, your—”

  “That’s when he hooked up with Raina, yeah. There’s nothing to forgive—she didn’t know me then—but I can admit, it hurts to think about it. Owen had changed by then. He wasn’t the guy I’d watched in the juniors. But Eden said that he’d changed before his injury. She said that the money, the fame, had gone to his too-young head. Whatever it was, he wasn’t the brother I knew, and I keep telling myself that. He left town again after Darek’s wedding, and that’s when I met and fell in love with Raina. I knew she’d met Owen but had no idea they had a past. I started to figure it out over the summer, and especially when he walked into Jace and Eden’s wedding a few months later. Raina had discovered she was pregnant and was avoiding me, and I blamed Owen, the way he treated her, and . . . well, that’s when the fight happened.”

  The flight attendant had finally reached their seats. Casper asked for water, drank it down in one gulp.

  Scotty opened her pretzels. “Owen said you left first?”

  “Yeah, I was so angry, I went down to Roatán, a small island off Honduras. But I couldn’t get Raina off my mind, so I finally went home, and that’s when I discovered that she was pregnant. With Owen’s kid.”

  “More family drama.”

  “It doesn’t have to be. Maybe Owen will turn out to be a great guy, even see things my way.”

  “As in, letting you adopt this little girl.”

  He drew in a breath. “I know I owe you an apology. You were right—from the outside, it does feel like I’m trying to steal Layla. But that’s not true. I do want Owen to know her. I just . . . I just think it would be better for her to have one dad.”

  “You.”

  He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Sorry, but yeah. My fear is that I’ve ignited a custody battle—”

  She put her hand on his arm. “Your brother loves you.”

  Casper glanced at her. Swallowed. Then looked away. “No wonder he wants you to stick around. You really do believe in him.”

  Oh. She hadn’t expected that strange vote of confidence, and now her throat tightened. “I can admit that being around Owen makes me—briefly—wonder what it might be like to be in a big family . . . but it’s not a good idea.”

  Casper held up his cup for more water as the flight attendant went by again. “Our family isn’t all drama. Actually, we get along pretty well. My parents are bighearted. They love Raina, despite the strangeness of the situation.”

  “My mother had a big family. Cousins everywhere. My dad sent me down to live with them in Seattle one summer. Two big sisters, two kid brothers—they loved large and loud. But . . . big families mean messy, tangled relationships, and I’ve been on the dark end of family drama. I can’t get caught up in that again.” She folded the airplane pretzel bag into tiny squares.

  She hadn’t really wanted to revisit their conversation in the hallway, but maybe he needed more information, and she needed an ally. “One of those cousins came up to Alaska and lived with us for a while. I didn’t realize he was running from a drug conviction in Seattle until after he married one of my best friends.” She held up the pretzel litter to the flight attendant, dropped it in the garbage bag as she passed.

  “He was making meth in his house and, when he was high, abusing Cindy and their little boy. I suspected something, but I was . . . Well, he was family. We knew each other, and I didn’t want to believe . . . Anyway, it all went south, and he was killed.” She shook her head, the images fresh, bruising. “Their son went to a good family. I still see him sometimes.” She looked out the window, wishing for the dawn, but darkness covered the plane. “It’s the curse of a small-town cop—you know everyone, and eventually you have to arrest someone you love.”

  “You mentioned it threw you out of whack. What did you mean?”

  She glanced at him.

  “You told me. In the hallway, remember?”

  “Yeah. I quit the police force for a while. But . . . I’m okay, or getting there. I’m back on the police force in Anchorage, and everything is sorted out. I just don’t . . . I can’t have any more family drama, okay?”

  Scotty probably carried a bit too much emotion in her eyes when she said, “Please be telling me the truth about Monte Riggs, Casper, because I don’t want to arrest anyone I care about.”

  This time he pressed his hand over hers. Squeezed.

  Owen shifted again, then turned in his seat. Scotty froze when he settled his head on her shoulder.

  Casper grinned. “I think he likes you.”

  She smiled, inhaling the smell of Owen, flannelly and masculine. “And I like him.”

  Casper’s smile fell. “Just not his loud, messy family.”

  “Or his complications. He has a lot to sort out with you, Raina, and his baby girl, and I’ve been in the middle of one too many domestics. I just need to keep this professional, not get involved until I can get back on a plane for Alaska. Owen and I can’t ever be anything more than shipmates.”

  Scotty looked away as the airplane hurtled toward Deep Haven, Owen’s head warm on her shoulder.

  She must have fallen asleep because the change in air pressure jostled her awake as they made their descent into Minneapolis. Casper had also nodded off and now raised his head, sat up.

  Next to her, Owen hadn’t stirred, his head still resting on her shoulder. She nudged him. “Owen.”

  Nothing. She nudged him again. “Owen?”

  And when he didn’t respond, for a blinding, ragged moment, she was right back in the raft, trying to keep him alive, begging him, begging God to intervene—

  He drew in a long breath, lifted his head, and her world righted, leaving only her heart to thump wildly in her chest.

  Shoot. She’d need to break free of his effect on her if she hoped to walk away unscathed. Or maybe it was enough to be able to walk away.

  Just shipmates.

  Owen sat up, stretched.

  “Are you going to live?” she asked as he scrubbed his hands down his face.

  “I don’t know.” He leaned back and groaned. “Casper, do you have my meds?”

  Maybe she’d relaxed too soon.

  In fact, her worry for him grew as they disembarked, then found their next gate for the commuter hop to Duluth, still two hours from his hometown. At the gate, Owen sank down onto a chair, grimacing now and again.

  “Maybe we need to get him back to the hospital?”

  “I’m fine,” Owen mumbled. “Just let the meds kick in.”

  “He has broken ribs, you know,” Scotty said to Casper.

  But she stopped talking when Owen took her hand. Solid, without hesitation, as if he needed her.

  So maybe he needed to hang on for now. And she’d consider it part of her professional duty in getting him home.

  She led him onto the plane, then opted to sit next to him instead of her fugitive for the fifty-minute flight to Duluth. By the time they landed, the meds had clearly kicked in, Owen’s gaze brighter.

  They retrieved their duffels from baggage claim—she had to admit some dismay that her only attire for this excursion would be her smelly crabbing clothes. She’d planned on doing laundry at Angie’s.

  Way to make a good impression.

  Owen reached for his bag, but she grabbed it. “Good try.”

  Meanwhile, Casper rented a car at the desk, came back swinging the keys. “I would have called someone, but I wanted to surprise the
m.”

  “Oh, this will be a surprise all right,” Owen said. “You in handcuffs. Surprise!”

  Casper glared at him. “I meant the part where I found you. Finally.”

  “Let’s go,” Scotty said, stepping between them. Casper lifted Owen’s duffel off her shoulder.

  They found the Ford Escape in the lot, and Casper manned the wheel. Owen settled in back, leaning his head against the seat as if watching the scenery. Morning crested through the evergreen and birch trees, turning them golden, and at the bottom of a hill, the great Lake Superior stretched out, dark blue touching the horizon to the east, bordered on one side by a busy shipping harbor.

  “Welcome to Duluth,” Casper said. “The western port city of the Great Lakes chain.”

  “It’s gorgeous.”

  “It’s no Bering Sea,” Owen said.

  “And there’s no mountains,” Scotty said. “But it feels like Alaska.”

  “It’s tamer,” Casper said.

  “This is why I belong in Alaska,” Owen said quietly, shifting in his seat.

  Scotty couldn’t read his expression. Pensive? Or worried? She had the crazy urge to reach back, squeeze his hand, and for a long moment didn’t regret traveling home with him at all.

  “Breakfast, please,” Owen said, and Casper pulled into a drive-through McDonald’s.

  They left the city and traveled northeast, the lake a rich indigo under the climbing sun, the evergreen trees a vibrant, lush emerald. On the hills opposite the lake, autumn bedazzled the trees in hues of amber, crimson, and magenta.

  Scotty smelled woodsmoke hanging in the air when they got out to stretch at an overlook.

  “I could forget I’m in Minnesota,” she said to Owen, sitting with his door open, feet on the ground.

  “I’d like to.” He shook his head. “Truthfully, I didn’t think it would be this hard. I feel nearly sick with the thought of . . . everything, I guess.”

  And there it was again, the wild urge to take his hand. Or maybe pull him into her arms. “It’ll be okay.”

  His mouth flattened into a grim line of disagreement, and she could almost see the past scrolling over his face, the words he must have said, the very real face-to-face meeting he’d have with his mistakes. The apologies he’d have to utter.

 

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