Forget worrisome men. Once she got back to the apartment, she’d dump her books and go for a nice, long walk along South Platte. She had the time, having made it out of class earlier than usual. The day had an hour’s worth of sun left. And after her relaxing walk—an act of easy physical exertion to flush out excessive thought about a certain male someone—she’d have the focus to tackle her homework. What could go wrong?
In the apartment parking lot, she spotted a blue Ford truck with its owner still inside and sensed her simple plan being extinguished by an unexpected swell of excitement.
She pulled up alongside Ryan’s truck.
He sat behind a magazine, his long, muscular legs stretched out across the bench seat. His feet rested under the steering wheel. Her eyebrows rose when she registered the publication he read as National Geographic. What? No Sports Illustrated, Swimsuit Edition?
After she stepped out, she glanced over the roof of her car, met his direct, green-hazel gaze as it spied out from the side of the magazine. The smile at the corner of his mouth couldn’t finish forming before it was suppressed. Her heart flipped anyway.
Taking a steadying breath, she came around the back of her car and heard him climb out of his truck.
He materialized beside her near the passenger side door. Personal space gone, she felt anything but put-out. Attempting nonchalance, she leaned in to snag her bag. He reached over her and grabbed it.
Immediately slipping out from under him, ignoring the thrill at her location in reference to him, she watched as he easily swung the pack over his shoulder.
He shifted the bag’s weight on his shoulder. “I’d say you’re loaded down with homework tonight.”
She smiled, tried thinking cool thoughts to ease the rush of heat to her face. From such proximity and the smell of new publications, she believed they could be standing in an aisle of books in the middle of the forest. Gotta run. She squeezed past him and headed for the stairs.
At the top, she let him in and motioned to the floor by the closet. “You can drop it there. Thanks.” And stay.
She stepped back outside. He caught the door before it closed behind her—between them.
“Another walk?” The door latched shut behind them.
“That’s right.” She started down the steps. “I can only take so much city in one day.”
“More than I can.”
Her heart rate accelerated as she heard him step off the stairs, felt him as he came up along her side, the stairs barely wide enough for both, especially considering his wide shoulder span.
“So how was school? Did you get along with the other kids?”
“Only when the teacher was watching.” She smiled but then grew serious. “Did you see Amanda today?”
His smile also dimmed. “Yeah.”
“And?” She could guess. If it’d gone well, he wouldn’t be here right now.
He shrugged. “She was distracted.” His hand went through his hair. “There was a car accident. No, she wasn’t involved. It was a co-worker.”
“I hope no one was hurt.” She gazed west at the foothills. He stood forefront to them where the sun covered him in slanted light defining his undeniable presence. The mature trees along the road rolled out like escorts for a drive into the mountains.
Just take him for a ride and see where it goes, the road beckoned.
They crossed Bowles and hit the cement bike path. A cool breeze played across her skin and the bare tops of her sandaled feet. Because she’d rushed to leave Ryan behind, she hadn’t changed into tennis shoes. Passing cars filled in for conversation as they crossed a field of prairie grass. They made it to the trees at the shore of the flowing water.
A flicker burst out of the yellow grass, red-orange flashed from the underside of its wings. The bird alighted on the side of a tree, showing it hoped the tree would feed better instead of stabbing at the ground for bugs.
Rebecca focused on the nearest cottonwood’s deeply rutted bark, the woody skin of Nature. With a touch, she’d relax from the world, from—
“I don’t think anyone was hurt, but it wouldn’t be the first time Amanda knew someone who’d been in a car wreck.”
She peered back where Ryan considered her from the path. She’d left the path without knowing it, headed for the trees.
“In this city, who wouldn’t?” She turned to the tree. “You’re talking about Bayfield, aren’t you? What happened—-ouch!” She picked up her right foot and surveyed her instep. The blood caught her by surprise. On the ground, a shard of brown glass glinted beneath the tall yellow grass.
“What is it?” He was at her side before the end of his question reached her ears.
“Just a scratch. I’ll be fine.” She moved away from his help only to falter and become supported by his arms. Those arms were immovable.
Easing herself along their length, she worked to his side and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Okay.” She patted the solid muscle in an attempt to reassure. She was a big girl, could handle a little cut.
He seemed to consider otherwise.
“I think it’s time to head back,” she suggested. Her first step on the cement turned into a miss as she grunted. He bent over and moved an arm under her legs.
“Oh, no.” She extended her left foot for an extra-long stride and placed all weight away from him.
“All right. But stumble one more time and you’ll have no choice.”
“Fine.” After a few steps, a rough gravel patch led to a wince.
“Close enough.” He scooped her up. She pushed away from his chest, pulled up an image of his bare chest in the kitchen and their heavy breathing. She felt the heat of his eyes and was clumsy enough to meet them. Her breath caught at their no-nonsense hunger. His gaze dropped to her lips.
Her mouth felt dry. She ran her tongue across her mouth. “Umm, I think we—”
His head came down, mouth captured her lips. The caress of flesh spread heat across her cheeks. Without her conscious permission, her hand moved up his chest to bury her fingers in his heavy, soft hair. Her held breath released. Soft warmth glided along her lips. He lifted his head. His eyes had turned to a rolling green, fierce gales tearing through lush forest.
A revving engine ringtone played out of her hip. “It’s Amanda,” she whispered into the cool air. Daylight faded. She dug out her phone. “Hey,” was her attempted greeting with so little air in her lungs.
“Are you home yet?” A desperate or panicked tone leaked through the speaker.
“Yeah.”
“Is Ryan there?”
Her gaze stayed deep inside the storm of his. “Yeah, he’s here.” Still intense, but conflict had condensed brown over the green depths.
Amanda sighed. “Great. Okay, I’ll see you soon. Thanks.” Click.
Rebecca tucked her phone into her pocket. “Amanda’s on her way.”
His focus faltered. The intensity lost direction. She turned her gaze to the trees, a solid base on which to lean. They were moving. He’d started walking, back to the apartments.
What had she done? It couldn’t be any harder than admitting what was obvious. Ryan had held her as she talked to the reason he was here, Amanda. Rebecca had gotten herself caught up in the middle, hadn’t she?
She wanted to help Amanda but not by becoming the go-between. How’d she get in the middle anyway? Because you’re in his arms.
Her heart fluttered. His chest rose and his warmth spread farther across her body. The flicker she’d watch make a tree-landing earlier flew overhead. Her gaze followed its glide across the sky.
She could get out of the way at any time. Daring a glance at his face, she noticed his eyes had moved from her to the field. The muscles along his jaw flexed. Maybe she wasn’t in the middle. Maybe she was like the magazine, a si
de amusement to kill time.
Her intellect could try, but sometimes even it couldn’t talk her way through twinges of disappointment.
She shivered. His arms turned her closer into his warmth, into his beating heart. This was all she’d get. When they were back at the apartment, it’d be her cousin’s show. Amanda needed him more anyway. To make it true, Rebecca had to resist the urge to pull Ryan’s head down and meet those worried green eyes.
Chapter 9
Amanda pelted her phone into her backpack. Ryan hadn’t quit. Leaving the locker room, she yanked her uniform top out from her work pants, unbuttoned so air could gain better access to her white undershirt.
She mentally scoured for something to satisfy Ryan’s curiosity, to get him back on the road. She didn’t need him and had bigger fish to fry. Sure, at one point she’d considered grilling him for information, but he’d guess she was up to something. He’d warn her like he usually did, behave protective and big brotherly. Instead, she needed to convince him she was capable of taking care of her own life.
She exited the dealership, headed across the parking lot. Spotting her Jeep was easy. The vehicle occupancy of the parking lot whenever she clocked out tended to be at its lowest. The sun sat above the serrated horizon. Like a knife blade. It’d be touching soon.
She shook her head, refusing to take herself seriously. Her manager had done that enough already. She hadn’t even worked on Tiff’s car. Take another look at the tech’s name on the R.O. she’d wanted to say to him. It sure as hell wasn’t me getting my hands anywhere near her car. Even so, he’d asked why they’d found one of her tools near the brake booster line that had been cut.
All blood had drained from her face. She was finally nailed but this time had had nothing to do with it, and Tiff had been fine, hardly a bruise on her.
Her team leader, Scott, had been in the office with her. “It’s not unheard of for another tech to borrow tools, Jim,” he’d told their service manager.
“I’ve already talked to Ralph, told him the same thing I’m going to tell you. I don’t want to hear about anyone in this dealership trying to make upsells out of simple repairs. Someone could’ve been seriously hurt. I’ll be making sure both his and your work, Amanda, gets reviewed before the cars drive off this lot. Understood?”
Face flooded with heat, she stared at the dealership’s logo on the rug as she nodded.
A sigh stirred from across the cluttered desk. “You’ve had a difficult week. Maybe you should take some time off.”
She turned her head slowly back and forth. “I can’t do that, sir.”
Things didn’t get any worse from there and eventually she maneuvered her way out of their heavy scrutiny. She couldn’t believe how her tool would make it there without her knowing. Amanda kept a frugal eye on all her tools. They weren’t cheap and were her only means to fixing what was broke.
She couldn’t handle much more of this. Her skin felt full, the pores clogged with grease and dirt—normally signs of a gratifying, hard day’s work but now possible evidence all over again.
What had Ryan thought when she’d come racing out to him? Did he suspect her like everyone else had? She’d gotten some unkind looks throughout the day that had rubbed her the wrong way. They all suspected her of something.
At her Wrangler, she tossed her pack into the passenger seat and climbed into the driver’s. What had Ryan told Rebecca, the one with whom Amanda had to live?
She turned the key, but the engine did not engage. The ignition clicked. Perfect.
Stepping down, she marched around the front of her Jeep, snapping the hood clamps. She hefted the hood, eased its weight onto the prop rod. Her eyes dropped to the engine. She tensed. Papers rested loose on the valve cover.
She dropped her hands from the hood. One hand settled on top of a length of thick wire. Looking at it, she found the no-start issue. Someone had loosened her negative battery cable.
Right.
She gathered up the papers, glanced at the top one which headlined a car crash. Driver lost control . . . she considered the car in the picture, expecting a passive slur slung at her by some co-worker regarding Tiff’s safety being more important than hers. That’s what their eyes had been saying most of the day. But it wasn’t Tiff’s red Toyota.
She went rigid. Her heart stopped. They weren’t in her dreams anymore. Five-year-old images called up more intricate details. Danielle.
“Hey.”
She gasped, clasped the papers flat against her now pounding heart. She flipped around . . . then released a breath. Adam. He had her going from endangered to safe and secure in less than sixty seconds with his steady, tall, and broad-shouldered presence complete with superhero garb of night-colored uniform and utility belt. His black hair was perfectly groomed, of course.
With her next breath she called up her shield, her cheery deflection. She beamed what she intended as a high-wattage smile. “What’s up?”
“Truck trouble?”
She shrugged. “More like a practical joke. My turn, I guess. Don’t know why my shop pals even bother with my Jeep. They’re always gone by the time I get out here. Joke’s on them.”
“They’re against letting things get dull around here.”
She made a definitive nod. “Right. So anyway, I think I got this.”
He raised his brow and nodded toward the papers she held tight to her chest. “Needed the manual?”
“Wha—?” She glanced down. “Oh. I wish. No, they’re incriminating photos.”
“What do you mean?”
I mean incriminating means lay off, stay out, and let me be! She shrugged. “One can never live down crashing a golf cart during a company get-together, even if it was a year ago.”
He chuckled. “Happens to the best of us.”
She smiled, felt her eyes soften. He was being generous, nice even. And she was letting her guard slip.
“I gotta get home.” She opened the door and pushed the photos into the glove box. “And destroy the evidence or check for fingerprints.” She winked.
He stepped closer. “You doing okay then? I mean yesterday you were all wound up by the surveillance footage.” She hadn’t noticed the breeze until the air around her refreshed with his wood and fresh linen scent. His shift had yet to start. How long before he hears about her supposed involvement in today’s events?
“I’m fine.” She stared at the engine as she pulled out her multi-use tool and used the pliers to re-tighten the cable. “No worries. I’m just dandy since I’ve decided to stop worrying and let the cops finish the case.” She glanced his way, wondering if he bought it.
The soft brown in his eyes diminished. His brows gathered as he considered her. But then they relaxed and one eyebrow lifted. “That’s how you feel?”
“Right. Why not?”
His mouth opened, and she slammed the hood shut.
“I gotta go.” She smiled. “You better not be late. Those cars can’t guard themselves.”
She climbed up into the Jeep, breathed a prayer of thanks when it started right up. She waved. Proving to be quite the expert at avoidance, wasn’t she? But she hadn’t wanted it for Adam.
He stood there with a darkened expression, watching her drive off. She felt compelled to keep him an innocent bystander. He had no idea what she’d done. He would soon know what others thought her capable of simply because she couldn’t hide her hostility all the time for a pair of clicking high heels.
She fought the urge to peel out like a burglar fleeing the scene of a robbery. Instead, she politely merged onto the street and kept a sensible speed for a few blocks then pulled into a closed discount center’s parking lot, picking a spot under a streetlight.
Yanking open her glove box, she dropped the photos onto her lap. One paper worked its way out. She
pinched the fibrous sheet between her fingers, lifted it. She squinted at the printed type.
How could you do that?
Did your brain go flat?
As you were told,
There’d be no hold.
Evidence will admit
You’ll never escape guilt.
I expect nothing less
Than you confess
Answer in Hell’s depth
For Danielle’s last breath.
She fell back into her seat, wounded. With wide eyes, she shook her head. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t! But if not him, who else?
No one.
She slammed the Jeep’s gear shifter into first. There was only one way to find out. She now had something to discuss with Ryan.
~ ~ ~
Amanda was on her way. Ryan had to think about her, not about the warm and once-willing woman in his arms. With sexy bare calves against his equally naked forearm, he felt grateful he’d worn his t-shirt and dared a chance of sunburn waiting for Rebecca’s arrival. Her blue shirt made her gray eyes shimmer with whispered energy. His jeans constricted, and he cursed himself. She’d been injured, for Pete’s sake.
He walked through the apartment parking lot. A breeze played out the fruit smell in her hair. If he leaned over enough, her presence could blind him to the dust of the city. Little of the day remained. A sliver of sun spread a few beams over the buildings.
He glanced down, saw her searching his face. “It’s Amanda you’re here for.” She summed it up neatly.
He was here for Amanda.
Her uncle knew it, too. Ryan had experienced a brief encounter with the man before Rebecca’s arrival. He’d been grilled by a man who apparently knew more than he’d shared with his family. Ryan didn’t have much more to offer him, not until he’d gotten somewhere with Amanda.
A Running Heart Page 10
