by Taylor Hart
Whatever that meant. She wiped her eyes and turned to Nick, who wouldn’t look at them. Why would Nick do this? Why would he sacrifice and risk so much for her? It didn’t make sense.
But what choice did she have? If Frank trusted him, then maybe she could too. “Fine,” she whispered.
“Great.” Nick met her eyes and flashed a grin. “The more I thought about you just going to live in a commune in California, the more ridiculous I thought that was, and my brothers had a brilliant idea.”
“What?” both she and Frank said at the same time.
“Jackson.” He nodded, like he’d just said the winning lottery numbers.
“Jackson?” they repeated.
“One, two, three, you owe me a Coke.” Nick gave them a goofy grin and pointed at each of them. Then his face fell. “You don’t get … ah, never mind.”
Both of them just stared at him.
He cleared his throat. “Sorry. I just, umm, I’ve just felt one hundred percent better since I decided to do this, and now I’m excited. My brother, Luke, just bought a big million-dollar mansion in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. And …” Nick dug the key out of his pocket. “He gave it to me for the week. You’ll be off the grid completely.”
“No,” Frank insisted. “I’ll pay for a place. I got lots of cash.” He pulled his wallet back out.
“Why? It’s free. It’s fine.”
Frank hesitated, then let out a low growl. “Fine. It’s a good idea.” He turned to Ava, sounding more certain. “Hal won’t expect you to be in Jackson. It’s perfect. What do you say, Ava? I think it’s a great idea. I think it’s …” He took his handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at his forehead. “I think it’s just the miracle we needed. When I get back, I’ll work my contacts and we’ll get you your life back.”
Ava’s brain was on overload, but admittedly, she was becoming more and more convinced. She hadn’t really wanted to go live in Slab City—it had terrified her on a completely different level—but she didn’t know what else to do. The same feeling as before, when she’d felt like Katie had interceded on her behalf, washed over her. “Okay.” She blinked.
Nick gave her a slow smile. “Okay, then here’s where we’re at. My brothers know, but they’re not even telling their wives where I am. They are saying I went back to Mexico. I told my captain the same thing; I needed another week’s vacation. And …” He handed them both a phone. “We each have a phone to communicate. Frank, I don’t think you should even call on your regular cell.”
Frank nodded.
Nick turned to her, looking sheepish. “I … My brother had another suggestion and I think we should do it.”
“Okay,” she said tentatively.
“Great, we’ll be taking his jet from Salt Lake to Jackson this morning.”
She shook herself, wondering if she’d misheard him. “A jet?”
The side of Nick’s lip cocked into a smile. “Might as well have a good time as long as we’re engaged.”
All she could do was stare at him. The night before, he’d made it clear he didn’t think they needed to be engaged. Now, since they were leaving Park City, it was kind of pointless.
Frank clapped a hand down on her shoulder. “I like it. Go with your fiancé; maybe even have fun on the trip.” He pulled her in and gave her a final squeeze. “Don’t worry, Ava. The Big Guy upstairs is working it out—I feel it.”
Ava sat inside the leather-seated jet cabin, outfitted with a minibar, snacks, and drinks. Nick sat next to her, music blaring from the ear buds in his ears, and looking out the window. He’d tried to make small talk when they boarded the plane, but she’d turned him down.
It unnerved her to be sitting here. In fact, she felt like one of those wind-up jack-in the-box toys that had just been waiting for one more turn so she could explode. She remembered Frank’s last words: The Big Guy upstairs is working it out. How? If this was the way God worked, it sure didn’t feel very organized or sane to her.
Closing her eyes, she tried to do the meditation exercises her therapist had taught her this past year. Inevitably, the image of Hal swam into view; his blond hair, blue eyes, the angry expression he wore when no one else was looking. Yes, he’d been good at disguising his guile for her. At first.
After the divorce, it hadn’t mattered. He pretended she didn’t exist in public, but he would text her from random burner phones. She would change her number, but he’d find it. So many people thought she was just trying to get back at him. He had played them all so well.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Jolted from the awfulness, she stared up at the soft, chocolate-brown eyes. “Oh, hey.”
He frowned, and she noticed a scar by the corner of his left eye. He had the kind of face that looked, for the most part, happy. Sure, she’d seen him in cop mode, but it seemed like there was always a joke he had just heard. “You looked sad.”
She grunted. “That’s funny.”
“What?”
“What?”
“What’s funny?”
She wasn’t sure if she liked that he wanted to talk to her or not. After all, she was grateful to him for concocting this whole plan, but on the other hand, her control of the situation was slipping further and further away. “Uh …” She decided to be honest. “It’s funny because I was just thinking how you looked happy. And you said I looked sad.” Her voice trailed off when he didn’t seem to get it. “Never mind.”
“Oh.” He snapped his fingers. “I see. It’s ironic.”
She couldn’t help but smirk. It was kind of cheesy the way he acted, like when he’d done the whole jinx thing.
“Now you look happier. What were you thinking about?”
Why not tell him? She would be spending at least a week with the guy. “You.” Nerves assaulted her. He was cute, and now that she was close enough to smell his tropical-scented cologne, it was even harder not to be attracted to him.
“Me?” Another dopey grin.
“I haven’t heard the whole jinx thing in a long time. Like junior high.”
Not offended at all, he leaned back and made finger guns. “I work on it. Acting like I’m in junior high, I mean.”
Unable to stop herself, she smiled.
“Oh my goodness, and she smiles, too.”
She shook her head, feeling like a teenager on her first date. “Stop.”
“Why? I like it.”
“You do?”
“You’re pretty when you blush. But you’re prettier when you smile.”
Now, all the sensations she’d previously had of being nervous around him smoothed out. When she met his eyes, she felt herself give in to this attraction.
She turned away. Was she so warped to think a guy like him could even like her? Could be attracted to her, too? She was broken, had been broken for a long time, and she needed to get whatever teenage crush thing she had going on in her mind out of it. Not knowing how to take the compliment, she decided to change the subject. “So your brother owns this jet?”
“Yep. My big brother is kind of a big deal. Believe me, he likes to let everyone know it.”
Finding it interesting to think about someone else’s stuff, she probed. “Really?”
“Oh yeah, became a billionaire this past year. It’s just annoying, really.” He winked at her. “There’s that smile again.”
Feeling self-conscious but liking this conversation, she asked what she had wanted to know since yesterday. “Why are you helping me?”
He hesitated. “Man, you too? Can’t a guy get a break?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, both my brothers tease me all the time about having this need to save people. Like it’s some disease or something.” He looked at his nails.
“Ah,” she said. “Hero complex. Makes sense, really.”
“What makes sense?” He cocked an eyebrow and relaxed back into his seat.
“I’m a nurse. An ER nurse. I deal with nurses and doctors just like you all t
he time. The kind that want to save people.” She tapped her chin. “But sometimes, well, the doctors can just be about how it makes them look. How they get to play God. But you …” She was making a snap judgment, but couldn’t stop herself. It was interesting to look at this situation from a removed, clinical perspective, where she didn’t feel swallowed up in it. “I would bet your compassion doesn’t stem from wanting to make yourself look good. No, you probably had something happen in your life that made you feel helpless, and it took you on a path to helping people.” She frowned and wondered what it could be, wanting to know why he wouldn’t talk about the case Frank kept bringing up. “It makes sense you’re a cop. You fit the mold.”
Something akin to anger flashed in his eyes. “Oh, I’m a mold, huh? I have childhood issues that gave me this affliction?” A hard edge was in his voice.
“No, I didn’t …”
He put a hand up. “Never mind.”
Silence reigned for a few minutes. It was hard to believe she’d just insulted the one person in the whole world who’d agreed to help her. She cleared her throat, pushing back her tears. “Look, don’t listen to me, okay? I’m the messed-up one.” She let out a sardonic laugh. “As evidenced by the fact you’re only with me because I got involved with a psychopath and let him abuse me and then had to run from him. So I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that about you. Believe me, I have no right to say anybody fits any mold.”
He didn’t respond for a couple of minutes. They sat there, awkwardly avoiding each other’s gaze. Finally he said, “Because you needed help.”
“What?”
He looked up at her. “You asked why I’m doing this. Well, the short answer is because you needed help. I’m the kind that likes to help. But I’m not like … I don’t need to save people.”
Once again they fell into silence. This time, it was companionable rather than uncomfortable. She shifted in her seat, rolling his words over in her mind.
“And I do think this could be a new start for you. What Frank said earlier, what his wife used to say—my mom said something similar to me when I was growing up. At every moment of our life, we get to decide if it’s an end or a beginning. This could be a new beginning for Ava …” He paused. “What is your last name?”
She smiled. “I went back to my maiden name. It is Haughty.”
Mischief filled his eyes. “Well, you are that.”
“No.” She blushed. “Not h-o-t-t-i-e. Haughty. H-a-u-g-h-t-y.”
“I’m spelling it the way I want to.”
She let out a light laugh and couldn’t help but like this guy. It was like she just felt better with him. Softly, and before she even realized the words had come out of her mouth, she said, “I’m broken. You should steer clear of a woman like me.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes. After a couple of uncomfortable seconds, she got up and went to the bathroom.
When she got in there, she stared at herself. She thought of the words Frank had said earlier. “A new beginning.” Could this be a beginning for her? Hope fluttered through her, and she had to push it back down. She hadn’t dared to have hope in what felt like forever. Even after she divorced Hal, she’d always felt like she couldn’t get free with all the notes, the texts, the random running into each other. But she was calmer now, knowing she wouldn’t have to go live like a homeless person.
She inspected herself, wondering how Nick saw her. She didn’t think she looked too bad. Sure, she was too thin. No makeup. Hollow. But she wasn’t cringe-away-from-the-mirror awful, so that was good.
She touched her long, black hair, quickly braiding it and putting a tie around it. “I can do this,” she told herself, closing her eyes and talking herself into her relaxing mode. She counted backward from ten to one. Nice, deep cleansing breaths.
Taking a chance, she smiled at herself when she opened her eyes. It looked rubbery, but it was a start. And hey, she was in a billionaire’s jet with a guy who she was kind of beginning to like. Things could be worse.
Chapter 7
Nick turned back to watch Ava stepping down from the jet, shielding her eyes from the sun. Graceful, that’s what she was. She was taller than most women he dated. Not that this was a date, he reminded himself.
When she got to the bottom, he reached a hand out. Hesitating, she took it and gave him a small smile.
Maybe he was a sucker for a vulnerable woman. Maybe he did have a hero complex. The thought smarted, but he was beginning to like this stubborn, vulnerable, smart woman. Sure, she was scared, but he sensed an inner strength to her.
This could be an interesting week.
Wait, no, it couldn’t. He had to be professional. Frank asked for his help to protect her for the next five days. That’s all. He needed to remember that. He was a professional protecting someone who needed help. Nothing more.
She slipped her hand out of his, and their eyes met. She wasn’t his height, but she was only three or four inches shorter. He didn’t have to look too far down to look her straight in the eyes.
Looking around, she asked, “Where do we go?”
“Oh.” He oriented himself and pointed to the airport entrance. “My brother said he’d have a car waiting for us, rented under the business name.” He started moving in that direction, and she walked beside him. “I’ve only been here one time with Luke, but it’s great. I mean, not as great as Park City, but the house is great. VIP. The scenery is stellar. In fact, I think we should look at this as a vacation.”
She scoffed. “Vacation?”
“Yeah. I mean, technically I took vacation time, so don’t you think you should entertain me?” He was winging it, but it felt dang good to wing it, to be flirting with this beautiful woman.
He found himself wondering if Ava would even be willing to get into a relationship at this point, or ever. After all, she was being stalked by a weirdo ex-husband.
At the rental place, a lady handed over an envelope with a key and pointed them toward the Jeep. It was a convertible Jeep, and he grinned as he pulled the top off. “This is gonna be awesome.”
“I feel bad,” she said as they drove away from the airport. Black strands of hair were flying around in the wind, and she had her eyes closed.
“Why?”
“Because you’re paying for everything. We took your brother’s jet. And now—I mean I have money from Frank and a couple hundred in cash, but I …” She trailed off, and he heard emotion in her throat.
“Look,” he said, focusing on the road. “I’m doing this. It’s fine.”
“I keep trying to figure out why. I mean, even with a hero complex, I still can’t figure it out.”
The pine air washed over him, and it felt good to drive against the wind blowing. He didn’t know how to explain it to her, but he decided to try. “Ava, at one point in my life, when I was young … I was pretty messed up. My mom had died and for awhile my dad was MIA. Damon left. My other brother was going through his own stuff. So I started into some things I shouldn’t have and ended up in juvie.”
She didn’t respond, so he continued, catching sight of the turnoff to the road that led to Luke’s house. “I met Sheriff Kantrell then. In fact, after that I started working for him in the summers, and I can tell you he helped straighten me out. He gave me a chance.”
“You’re doing it for Frank?”
“Partly.” He sighed, not wanting to tell her or even sure of all his motivations. Part of him couldn’t imagine her getting sucked into the human trafficking ring he’d witnessed, and he knew they “recruited” from homeless places, like Slab City.
“And because of the case.”
It struck a chord. Of course she’d pick up on it; Frank had made it pretty clear he thought it’d messed him up.
“We don’t have to talk about it.” She let out a light laugh. “I totally understand not wanting to talk about something.”
He changed the subject. “Hey, I’m thinking I’m a year or two older than you, but maybe I was shoveling crap when you and Kati
e were taking out the horses.” He flexed his bicep. “I could take my shirt off and see if you recognize these guns.”
Unexpectedly, she laughed at his antics. “It’s okay.”
He took the turn. If he remembered right, Luke’s house was only about ten minutes away. “What I’m saying is that sometimes you help people. Sheriff Kantrell taught me to work hard, but he also taught me that when it’s right, you reach down and lift others up.”
“Is that why you became a cop?”
Nick shrugged. “I never wanted to go to college. That was a big fight between me and my father. And my older brother Luke, who thinks he knows everything. I’m just a physical guy. I like the outdoors, I like to run, I like …”
“Shooting guns?” she offered. “Crack shot?”
He stiffened.
“Sorry, I won’t bring it up.”
“It’s fine.”
“The Sheriff just likes to brag about you.”
Getting more uncomfortable, he didn’t know what to say.
“But you don’t like killing people, do you?”
“I shoot when I have to,” he said, more for himself than for her. “If it’s the only option. But mostly no.”
She nodded. “You help people.”
The way she said it made him glance at her.
She winked at him. “So, you didn’t just want to interfere in my life or just kiss a pretty face.”
He knew she was teasing him, but the memory of the kiss pulsed through his veins. Their eyes met. “The kiss was nice,” he said sincerely.
Her face reddened. “It was fine.”
Warmth filled the center of his chest. “More than fine.”
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“This isn’t a date.”
“I know,” he said quickly. “Believe me, I know that. And you’re right, it’s not a date. For both of our sakes, it’s better to keep a professional distance. But …” he wagged a finger at her, “that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.” Fun was the only thing that saved him from going crazy in his life most of the time.
