Not caring if it slowed them down for a few seconds, she dug her heels into the ground. “Where the fuck is it?”
“Probably back with the truck.”
She jumped back to avoid being smacked with the shed door as Lucas yanked it open. “You didn’t grab it off the floor when you took the cuffs?”
“Didn’t have time to look for it.”
“You intentionally shackled us together knowing you didn’t have the key? That’s brilliant.” She followed him into the shed, wondering how many critters called the rotting shack home in the off-season.
“I had to improvise.” He started moving tools and crates out of the way. “Maybe if you’d cooperated with me earlier…”
She scoffed. “So this is my fault?”
“Pretty much.” He grabbed something off the shelf. “I need a piece of wire or something.”
They both heard more sirens in the distance and hurriedly dumped boxes over until she found something suitable.
Lucas snatched the wire out of her hand and slid it into the lock on his cuff, circling it around. “Almost…”
“Hurry up.”
“Got it.” He slid free of the cuff. “Grab the paddles behind you.”
Paddles? As in a paddle for a boat? Not a chance. She followed his gaze anyway, shaking her head even before she spotted the peeling wooden paddles that looked like they dated back to the province’s original British and French settlers. Not a fucking chance.
“I don’t think so.”
He grabbed both paddles and disappeared outside. “We need to move.”
Left with no choice but to follow him, Max shut the shed and caught up with him near the front of the cottage.
“I’m not getting in that canoe.” The canoe looked to predate the paddles by at least another century. They’d have a better shot of floating downriver in a bathtub.
Lucas dragged it across the rocky beach. “Fine, you hang out where the cops will eventually look while I’m home free on the other side of the river.”
She caught up to him and snatched one of the paddles out of his hand. He pushed the front end of the sickly ash-colored canoe into the water.
“After you.”
Max didn’t move.
Lucas frowned. “What’s your problem? You can swim, can’t you?”
“Sure.” If sinking like a stone counted.
“Get in then.”
Holding her breath, she eased into the canoe, trying not to squeal when it started to tip.
“If you move any slower you’re going to meet Bertha sooner than you’d like.”
Shooting him a dirty look over her shoulder, she made it to the front seat. Lucas shoved them off and stepped in behind her. The canoe pitched precariously to the right, and Max latched onto the sides even though there was a good chance the wood would crumble under her fierce grip.
“Paddle, Max. Faster,” he added when it took her a few more seconds to make much progress.
“You should have handcuffed yourself to a member of the national rowing team if you wanted someone experienced.”
Awkward at first, they fell into a brisk rhythm, paddling until Max’s arms burned and ached from the strain. It gave her a whole new appreciation for athletes who specialized in any type of rowing event.
After an hour or two passed with no sirens heard across the river, they relaxed and drifted with the current.
“So what was that back in the diner anyway?”
Max glanced over her shoulder. “What was what?”
“That kiss.”
Her hand slipped and she nearly dropped the paddle in the river. “What about it?”
“You sure made it look good.”
“That was your advice earlier, wasn’t it? Making it look good.”
He didn’t respond right away, then, “You sure it had nothing to do with that waitress coming on to me?”
Hearing the laughter in his voice, she sighed. “Sorry, but any fantasy you’re harboring of two chicks getting into a catfight over you will have to wait until after Bertha is done with me.”
Lucas laughed, and she grinned, her body recovering from the amount of adrenaline injected into her bloodstream.
“There are some rocks up ahead, once we clear them we’ll put in to shore.”
No sooner did Max spot the rocks up ahead than the water parted directly in front of them. She heard the bump, felt the boat rock wildly.
She grabbed the edges, tried to compensate but knew it was useless.
The canoe tipped, dumping them into the river.
Icy water closed over Max’s head. The water immediately soaked through her clothes, drawing her deeper. The frigid temperature seeped into her bones as she sank, turning her blood cold as she struggled against the current.
Every direction she turned was dark, empty.
Oh god, which way was up?
Her heart pounded in her ears, the frantic pulse releasing a rush of panic that paralyzed her. Suspended in the water, unsure of whether or not she was sinking or floating toward the surface, she kicked her legs, desperate for any leverage that might save her.
Something clamped around her wrist jerking her upward, and her head crashed through the surface. Her mouth opened automatically to draw in enough air.
“I’ve got you,” Lucas said against her ear.
Instinctively, she tried to turn and cling to him, but he locked his arm across her upper body. “I won’t let go.”
“Prom—promise?” The freezing water sloshed around her face as she tried her best to relax in his hold. His grip forced her to stay on her back as he headed for shore.
That was twice now he’d stuck his neck out to save her ass. She could have easily drowned the two of them if her panic had gotten the better of her.
When her feet scuffed the rocky bottom, she planted her feet too quickly and tried to stand. The water was only thigh deep, but her knees quivered and would have given out if Lucas hadn’t been at her side, half-dragging, half-carrying her to shore.
Although she wouldn’t have admitted as much to him, she was thankful he was there. His presence held back the hysteria lodged in her throat, all of which was entirely her brother’s fault. If CJ hadn’t jumped on top of her in the pool during their first swimming lesson as kids, she might have stuck with the lesson past the first five minutes.
Once they hit the beach, she eased away from him, finding the weight of his arms around her a little too comforting. He glanced down at her, his gaze far too perceptive, and she ducked her head.
Now that her heart began to slow, she started to shiver. A gust of wind slashed right through her wet clothes. She might as well have been naked for all the protection the drenched fleece gave her.
She wrapped her arms around herself, sinking on to a large rock.
Lucas caught her arm. “We need to get warmed up.” He nodded toward a path that cut across the grassy bank in front of them. “I thought you said you could swim?”
“Yeah, the doggie paddle.”
He arched a brow.
“What? You just didn’t give me time out there to show you my moves.”
“You should have said something.”
Legs still a little rubbery, she stumbled up the path. “I wasn’t exactly anticipating our little dip.”
Lucas stopped, and she followed his gaze to where a blue and white clapboard cottage sat on a cement foundation, tucked under a group of cedar trees.
“Do you think anyone is around?”
“Probably not at this time of year.”
Hopefully not at this time of year. Max stopped, spun around. “Where’s my bag?”
Lucas carried on ahead of her. “My guess would be at the bottom of the river.”
“You lost it?”
“I was kind of busy saving your life.”
“My life was in that bag.” Her whole life or what was left of it. Identification. Money. Guns.
“So was my gun and cell phone,” he reminded her. “An
d you were trying to drown me.”
“Well, I obviously didn’t try hard enough.”
Everything important to her was sitting at the bottom of the river. All because he’d insisted on fleeing the RCMP in a freaking canoe. Who did that? And so what if it worked and they were likely searching for them upriver somewhere? She was now broke, unarmed and without a vehicle or even a place to go.
God, could the day get any worse?
She glanced down at the first drop of water that hit her hand. Tipping her head back, she felt more drops of rain on her face.
Perfect.
Fallen leaves blanketed the small yard and gravel driveway that disappeared into the woods ahead of them. If no one had been by to rake the leaves, maybe whoever vacationed here during the summer months wouldn’t be back until spring.
“Give me a sec.” Lucas disappeared around the corner.
Frustrated and freezing, she waited for him, no longer able to hold back the shivers that shook her inside out. True to his word, Lucas reappeared a minute later, probably having scouted the perimeter.
He pulled open the storm door and knocked twice on the oak-paneled interior one.
No response.
On tiptoes, Max peeked through the window beside the door, scanning the dark interior for any signs of movement.
She turned to Lucas. “I don’t think anyone is home.”
He nodded thoughtfully, then glanced down. He lifted the mat, but there wasn’t anything waiting for them this time.
“You didn’t think it was going to be that easy twice in one day, did you?”
Ignoring her, he crouched beside an oversized terracotta pot, empty except for soil. “Jackpot.” He smiled and held up a key.
Shaking head to foot, she grabbed the key and slid it into the lock. The door needed a nudge to get past the first few inches, and she stepped inside, Lucas following right on her heels just as the rain really started to come down.
The air inside was stuffy and smelled a little like stale cigarette smoke.
“I guess they didn’t feel like cleaning up after their last party.” Not even a little bit judging by the beer bottles littering the top of the table by the kitchen on the left.
Beyond the kitchen area, more party favors—empty chip bags, food wrappers and overflowing ash trays—were scattered around the couch that faced three large windows that looked out at the water.
“Maybe it wasn’t their party.” Lucas nodded from the photograph of a couple in their mid to late fifties on a side table to the ripped open box of condoms on the counter by another row of empty beer bottles.
She shrugged, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “Maybe the couple in the picture are parents or in-laws and not the owners.”
Spying a lamp on the table near the door, she reached over and switched it on, brightening the gloomy interior. “At least they still pay their power bill in the off-season.”
“They probably keep the basement heated enough so the pipes won’t freeze.”
Her eyes widened, but she was almost afraid to hope the place actually had running water if no one was staying here now. There were two doorways to the right of the woodstove and one of them had to lead to a bathroom.
“Where are you going?”
“To see if the bathroom window is big enough for me to squeeze through later.” She rolled her eyes, not bothering to look back and see if he actually believed that.
The light in the bathroom worked as well, and the sight of the corner shower nearly made her weep. Which she nearly did when she tried the faucet at the sink and after a minute the water turned warm.
“Thank god.”
“Well, that should help get you warmed up.”
She turned to find him directly behind her, his approach as stealthy as ever. She wondered if he enjoyed sneaking up on her as much as he did crowding her in small bathrooms.
“You should check and see if there are any clothes we can change into first. I’m going to start a fire.”
“Okay.”
Lucas didn’t move right away, his attention fixed on the floor. She didn’t see anything on the slate-gray ceramic tiles at their feet, but the second Lucas glanced at her, she wished he’d kept staring at the floor.
In less than a second his penetrating gaze seemed to slip beneath her skin, and she shivered for an entirely different reason. She never saw him move, but swore he was closer to her than he’d been a moment ago.
“I didn’t plan on things turning out this way, Max.”
“Good to know you didn’t steer us into that rock on purpose.”
“I didn’t mean just this.” He blew out a breath, seeming almost uncomfortable. “I know you’ve had a rough time and if I’ve made things harder on you…”
“Are you apologizing?” At least, that’s what it sounded like.
“I’m just saying that if I had to do this whole thing over, I would make a few changes.”
“What changes?”
His gaze slipped to her mouth, and her stomach did a fluttery backflip. “I’m going to start that fire.” He retreated another step.
“Lucas? Thanks for not letting me drown.”
He nodded, his lips slowly curving in a devastating grin that left her staring at the empty doorway long after he’d gone.
Once she was alone, there was nothing to distract her from the cold. She peeled off her boots, leaving them on the floor while she went to check the other room for spare clothing.
The bedroom wasn’t very big, the double-sized mattress fitting almost wall-to-wall. Directly to her left were a huge armoire and a small dresser. She checked the armoire first, pulling open the doors and coming face to face with two liquid black eyes.
Holy fuck.
Holding back the scream that shot up her throat, she stumbled backward. It took a moment to register that the previous owner had not in fact murdered her husband and left him to rot in the armoire.
Instead, some dumbass had not only shot and killed Bambi’s mother, but decapitated the poor thing and kept her head for a souvenir.
Some men had way too much time on their hands.
She quickly shut the armoire doors and turned to the dresser. Inside it she found bed sheets, a couple thick blankets—which she tugged out and set on the floor beside her—some socks, a few T-shirts and drawstring swim shorts that would do.
The door opened, and she glanced into the main room as Lucas set an armload of wood on the floor next to the woodstove.
Pitching some of the clothes and extra blankets on the chair behind him, she quickly pivoted back around.
“Hold up a second.”
“Oh no. I’ve got first dibs on the shower.”
Abandoning his smoldering fire, he trailed her into the bathroom once more. “Oh yeah? Says who?”
“Says the woman who didn’t want to take the canoe in the first place.”
“You mean the woman who didn’t warn me about the rock that caused us to tip?”
Her lips parted, but he held up his hand.
“Just get in there already or you’ll be having company.”
Carnal images of the two of them beneath the steaming water unfolded in her mind. Heat licked through her veins as he lingered in the doorway looking like he knew exactly what was going on in her head.
She put her hand on the door, torn between closing it and inviting him in. In the end he made up her mind for her.
“Come here.” He drew her close, and her breath hitched as his fingers curled around her wrist.
She bumped against him and a wave of need slid through her, running fast and hot. Even drenched, he smelled good, and she thought about pressing her mouth to his jaw to see if she’d still taste the salty river water on his skin.
He lifted her hand higher. “I should take this off.”
Yes, he should. Take it all off.
He pulled something from his pocket, and she recognized the piece of wire he’d used to get his cuff off earlier. The pad of his thu
mb rasped across the inside of her wrist as he turned the cuff around.
After a few seconds of fiddling, he glanced at her. “Isn’t this where you ask me if I know what I’m doing?” Something in his tone said he wasn’t talking about the handcuffs.
“Do you?”
His eyes clung to hers, his voice rough as he answered, “I guess we’ll find out.”
The cuff falling away from her skin broke the spell.
“Enjoy the shower.” He walked out, closing the door behind him.
Don’t do it, man.
Lucas leaned against the closed door, reminding himself that getting involved with Max would be a mistake. He was taking her to Boston, end of story.
After the canoe had tipped and he’d lost sight of her in the water, he’d come a little too close to panicking. That right there told him he was losing whatever objectivity he had possessed before this whole thing started.
He just didn’t know if it was Cara’s death and doubting Max’s role in it that set him on this path, or meeting Max and wanting to believe in her as much as Cara had. It used to be about getting the job done and leaving his personal feelings out of the equation. For whatever reason, it was different this time.
But it didn’t change the fact that Joe was expecting him to bring Max in. He wasn’t sure if Joe had been suspicious about his whereabouts before he’d called Tess this morning, or if he’d said something that tipped Joe off earlier. And if Joe had suspected something was going on with his team that he didn’t know about, he would have hounded his granddaughter Tess until she filled him in.
Either way, three seconds into the call that came through before the RCMP caught up with them, it was clear Joe knew exactly what was going on.
Lucas just couldn’t decide if he’d overestimated the odds of keeping his side-mission off Joe’s radar or Tess keeping Joe distracted with other things. And now that Joe knew he’d found Max, he was expecting him to have her back in Boston by tonight.
Since they wouldn’t be meeting the plane that would be waiting for them an hour away—not today anyway—he had to find a way to get through another twenty-four hours with Max without doing something stupid.
Stepping away from the door, and doing his best not to think about Max peeling herself out of her wet clothes, he crouched in front of the woodstove. He was still in the same position, annoyed at how much his best sucked right now, when Max emerged from the bathroom.
Trust Me: The Lassiter Group, Book 1 Page 10
