The True Love Travels Series Box Set

by Poppy Pennington-Smith

  “I got lost,” Hannah said in a small, quiet voice.

  Scooping her up in his arms, Max briefly closed his eyes and allowed the relief to wash over him. “I know. But it’s okay, now. We found you.”

  29

  Rachel

  Rachel was sitting in the truck with the engine running to keep warm. Max had been gone over an hour. The police from Fort Kyle had arrived and were talking to Catherine Dean and her father. She couldn’t tell if they were annoyed or grateful that Max had gotten involved, but when they’d realised she had nothing helpful to add they had asked her to wait in the truck.

  She looked down at her phone. Max still hadn’t called and now it was raining. Large heavy droplets were clouding the windshield, so she reached over to flick on the wipers. They swooshed slowly, clearing her field of vision. And then she saw him, coming out of the trees with Brandi by his side and a small girl in his arms as if he was a character in one of Rachel’s novels.

  Rachel hurled open the truck door and rushed towards him. Catherine was there too, clutching at her daughter, wrapping her in her arms, and crying, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  Max looked unsteady on his feet. His tall frame wavered, and Rachel stepped up beside him. “Max?”

  He smiled at her. “We found her.”

  “You did.” Rachel slipped her hand into his. “You found her.”

  After talking with the police, Max finally joined Rachel and Brandi in the truck. Rachel was sitting in the driver’s seat, but he didn’t question it. His jacket was on his lap and he reached into the pocket. “Brandi,” he said, leaning over to the back seat. “You were amazing.” He opened up the leftover fish and chips and spread them out so that Brandi could gobble them up. “Tomorrow, I’ll get you your own portion.”

  Smiling, Rachel started the engine and pulled the truck away from the woods. It was still raining. Usually, she’d be frozen with fear at the thought of driving in the rain. Tonight, however, she felt okay. She drove slowly but Max didn’t seem to mind.

  They made the journey in silence but as they pulled up to the cottage, Max leaned forward and put his head into his hands. Rachel rested her hand on his back. His breathing was heavy and shaky. When he looked up, his eyes were misty with moisture. “I didn’t think we were going to find her.”

  “But you did.” Rachel stroked his cheek. It was cold and damp. “You found her, Max.”

  She felt him lean into her touch. He closed his eyes and reached for her hand. “The last case that Frank and I worked...”

  Rachel shook her head and squeezed his fingers. “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “I want to.”

  Rachel smiled and nodded towards the cottage. “All right. But let’s get you warmed up first.”

  Inside, Rachel left Max in the lounge and went to boil the kettle. By the time she returned, he was sitting with his eyes closed, resting his head on his hand. He opened his eyes when she sat down beside him. Rachel held out her arms. “Here,” she whispered, pulling him close. “Just rest. We can talk in the morning.”

  For a moment, Max resisted. His eyes searched her face as if he was desperately looking for a way to say what he needed to say. But then he sighed and allowed himself to lean his head on her shoulder.

  It was dark. The fire crackled and an orange glow filled the room. Rachel felt Max’s body relax and then he shifted so that he was lying back against the couch and she was resting on his chest. Pulling a blanket over them, he wrapped his arms around her and held her. Rachel sighed. Beside them, Brandi was curled up in front of the fire.

  “Max...” Rachel stroked his arm with her fingertips. “I’ve been thinking. Maybe we should just stay here forever...” She smiled, half-joking, and looked up at him. But Max was already asleep.

  30

  Max

  Max woke just as the sun had begun to creep up over the horizon. Rachel was still asleep on his chest and, for the first time in too many years, Max had slept soundly. Gently, he brushed the hair from her face. He wanted to kiss her. He’d wanted to almost every day since they’d first shared a meal together and now it was becoming unbearable.

  Shifting sideways, he slid to his feet and covered Rachel’s shoulders with the blanket. She didn’t open her eyes.

  In the kitchen, he made coffee and took out his phone. Sorry, Ty. I have to tell her the truth. I’ll give you some time to try and smooth it over with French Senior but only to the end of the week.

  He sighed and nodded to himself. It was Thursday. Three days and he would tell Rachel. Not just that it was safe to return to London – all of it. He’d tell her about his and Frank’s final case and what had happened after. He’d tell her about his money problems and his tiny depressing apartment. He’d tell her everything. And then if she still wanted him after that, maybe, just maybe...

  “You didn’t wake me.” Rachel was leaning against the doorframe. She looked soft and sleepy and was trying to suppress a yawn.

  “You looked too peaceful.”

  Sitting down at the table, she looked at him and frowned. “Are you okay, Max? Last night was...”

  Max handed her a coffee and sat down opposite. He reached out for her hands and she looked surprised but gave them to him. “It was intense. But I’m okay.”

  “You know, you owe Brandi some fish and chips…” Rachel smiled and took her hands back to sip her coffee. “You promised her.”

  Max hung his head. “I feel awful. Out there in the rain, I doubted her. I didn’t think she remembered how to do it.”

  “Us females have a habit of surprising you, don’t we?” Rachel raised her eyebrows at him and grinned cheekily.

  “You certainly do.”

  “So,” she said, sitting back and yawning a second time. “What shall we do today, Detective?”

  “You’re not going to write?”

  Rachel wrinkled her nose. “I need a break. And I think you do too. So, I’m officially giving us both the day off.”

  “Day off?”

  “Yep. No need to be on high alert. No patrolling the property.” She gestured to herself. “No writing. Just... hanging out.”

  “Hanging out?”

  “You remember how to just hang out with someone?”

  Max laughed. “I’m not sure that I do, actually.”

  “Okay, well I saw some board games upstairs. Maybe we should start with that? You know how to play board games, right?”

  Max blinked slowly and realised that he was staring at her, but he couldn’t help it; she was radiant, bright, kind... and he wanted nothing more in the world than to pretend no one else existed and hang out with her for the day. Flexing his fingers, he smiled. “Bring it on, French. I’m a master at all board games.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Really.”

  “Okay then,” she grinned. “Game on.”

  After showers, fresh clothes, and breakfast, they settled in the lounge and sifted through the pile of games in front of them. Rachel had filled a bowl with tortilla chips and Max had made a pot of coffee.

  Max couldn’t remember a time in the last ten years when he’d done this – relaxed, properly relaxed.

  Of course, Rachel beat him at the first three games they played. But when they switched to a card game of Bridge, Max came into his element. By mid-afternoon they had laughed so much that Max’s side was hurting, and Brandi was looking at him as if she barely recognised who he was.

  Slapping down her cards, Rachel got up and waved her arms in the air. “That’s it. I surrender.”

  “You can’t quit now, not when I’m about to kick your butt for the…” Max frowned and started counting on his fingers. “How many times have I beaten you now?”

  “Too many.” Rachel rolled her eyes. “And I’m starving. Let’s eat lunch, then maybe we could dig out one of the old DVDs from those shelves upstairs?”

  Max pressed his back into the couch cushions and sighed. “Sounds great.” He stood up and followed her into
the kitchen. They’d been living in the cottage together for nearly five weeks, and he felt as if he now knew it by heart. He knew which floorboards creaked, he knew which radiators needed to be turned up higher than the others, and standing in the kitchen with Rachel felt like one of the most normal things in the world. “It’ll be strange,” he said. “When we go back to London.”

  Rachel had been taking salad ingredients out of the fridge but stopped and turned to him. “Yes.” She looked down at her fingernails. “It will.”

  Max lingered by the door. She was beautiful. So beautiful. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, just jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and a navy cardigan. But she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He felt his heart start to race, partly with the same nervous energy he felt whenever he was near her and partly with anxiety. “I’m sorry, Rachel.” He was looking at her and couldn’t make himself turn away.

  “What for?” Her tantalisingly blue eyes widened, and he heard her breath catch in her chest.

  Max stepped across the room in two big strides. Without even thinking about what he was doing, he swept one arm around Rachel’s waist and cupped her face with the other. “I’m sorry because I’m about to say something extremely unprofessional.”

  Rachel’s mouth tweaked into a smile. Her eyes searched his face and she bit the corner of her lip. “Oh dear. What is it you need to say?”

  Max leaned down and pressed his forehead lightly to Rachel’s, then moved his lips to her ear and let them brush against the skin on her neck as he said, “Rachel French, may I kiss you?”

  “Yes,” Rachel whispered. “Yes please.”

  31

  Rachel

  As their lips finally met, Rachel melted into Max’s arms. His kiss seemed to last forever, and she didn’t want it to end.

  When they pulled apart, she blushed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Well,” she whispered, “that was worth the wait.”

  Max laughed and rested his chin on the top of her head. Then he kissed her forehead. “Yes, it was. It really was.”

  Rachel stood on her tip-toes and looped her arms around Max’s neck. She was about to kiss him again when, beside them, Brandi sprang bolt upright and began to growl. Max moved away from Rachel and gestured for her to stay put. A short sharp, tap-tap-tap on the front door made Brandi quit growling and start barking.

  Gingerly, Rachel followed Max into the hallway. Her heart was racing. For five weeks, they’d seen no one. Heard from no one. And now someone was at the door.

  Max held up his hand. “Wait there.”

  Rachel nodded and stepped back into the doorway of the lounge.

  Slowly, Max opened the door. Rachel was holding her breath.

  “Mr. Dean?” Max’s voice was surprised, but not alarmed. “Is everything all right?” Is Hannah okay?”

  The gruff, very Scottish voice of Hannah Dean’s grandfather floated into the hallway and Rachel began to relax. “Oh, she’s just fine thanks to you and your marvellous dog.”

  “Really, Sir. It was nothing…”

  “Young man.” Mr. Dean’s voice was loud and firm. “It was everything. And we would like to invite you and your wife to a celebration. A thank you. This evening in the village hall.” Rachel noticed Max hesitate and Mr. Dean continued, “It would be an honour, Detective, if we could thank you for what you did.”

  Before Max had the chance to decline, Rachel stepped out of her hiding place and walked up beside him. “We would love that, wouldn’t we Max?” She placed her hand on his arm and smiled at him.

  Max looked at her, softened, and nodded. “What time would you like us?”

  At seven p.m., they set off for the village. Once again Max was driving, but as they made their way down the road that led away from the cottage, he looked at Rachel and said, “You were very brave last night. Driving in the rain. It can’t have been easy.”

  Rachel shifted in her seat and picked at a small loose thread in her knitted dress. “It wasn’t, but you and Brandi were brave. I was just…” She shrugged and looked out of the window.

  Max nudged her with his elbow. “You were great.”

  Rachel smiled and smoothed down the skirt of her dress. It was a thick, woollen burgundy and she’d paired it with heavy black leggings, but she was still cold.

  As they approached the village, she took in the lights and the moon on the ocean and felt suddenly emotional. Increasingly, over the last few days, her life in London had seemed further and further away. In the beginning, she’d missed her apartment, her friends, and her favourite coffee shops. But now, the idea of returning to them filled her with nothing but a sense of sadness. She hadn’t thought about her neighbour Pete in weeks, and the brief whatever-it-was that they’d shared felt shallow and meaningless compared to the feelings that had developed between her and Max.

  Max pulled up in front of a small, stone village hall. Lights illuminated the windows and the soft beat of music drifted out from inside. “Ready to be a hero for the evening?” Rachel smiled at him and pride swelled in her chest.

  “This will probably be better than my retirement do,” Max quipped, opening the door and gesturing for Brandi to jump over the front seat and follow him.

  Just before they entered, Max reached for Rachel’s hand and took it firmly in his own.

  “You know they think we’re married?” she said quietly.

  “Best not disillusion them, hey?” He smiled softly and kissed her on the forehead, then patted his pockets and said, “Is there room in your purse for my phone and keys? That’s a wifely thing to do, isn’t it? Carry your husband’s phone and keys.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Yes. It is.” She took them from him and tucked them into her bag.

  Max nodded approvingly then straightened his shoulders. “Right. Here we go…”

  As they pushed open the doors, a huge cheer broke out. The entire population of the village seemed to be there. Just a hundred or so people but, still, it was overwhelming after being in solitude with just one another for company for all these weeks.

  Rachel looked at Brandi, worried she’d be unsettled by it. But she was wagging her tail happily and enjoying all the fuss.

  At the back of the hall, a small band with a female singer had set up and was playing songs that Rachel didn’t recognise. She watched as Max moved through the crowd, shaking hands and saying, “Oh it was nothing. Really. I’m just glad she’s safe.”

  She was taking a glass of punch that had been offered to her by an elderly man in a kilt when she felt her bag start to vibrate. Opening it up, she checked her phone, but it wasn’t hers that was ringing; it was Max’s. She looked at the screen: TYLER CALLING.

  “Excuse me, one moment.” She handed the punch back to the man and hurried towards the door. She pressed the green ‘answer’ button but the music was too loud and she couldn’t hear Tyler’s voice.

  Finally outside, she pressed the phone to her ear.

  “Max? Where the devil are you? It sounds like a nightclub. Listen, I don’t know if you can hear me so I’m going to text. This is important. Don’t ignore me.”

  Tyler hung up and Rachel’s heart fluttered urgently in her chest. He had news. He was going to text with news. She looked back towards the hall and considered going to get Max. Through the window, she could see him laughing with Hannah’s mother. She was holding Hannah in her arms and the little girl was presenting Max with something. It looked like a crayon drawing. Rachel smiled, then Max’s phone vibrated in her hand. Turning away from the hall, she opened the message and started to read…

  Please, Max, think about this. You’ve already lied to her. What’s the point in coming clean now? All the old man wants is another week or two for his daughter to finish her book and get some space from everything that was going on. He’s doing it because he cares for her. That’s all. AND he’s said he’ll double your fee. Four grand a week. That should sort your money problems and set you up for a while. And, like I said, if you do th
is then there’ll be another job afterwards. And another. This is a fresh start for you, Max. Don’t blow it. Just keep your mouth shut. Don’t tell French that the stalker’s been found and in two weeks you’ll be free of her.

  There was more, but Rachel couldn’t bear to read it. Her fingers loosened their grip on the phone and it clattered to the ground. She felt suddenly nauseous, like she might vomit right there onto the road in front of the village hall. Dazed, she staggered towards the truck and leaned on the driver’s side door. Her breath was coming thick and heavy. She looked back at the hall. She couldn’t see Max and, suddenly, the idea of being close to him made her want to cry.

  Grappling for the keys in her bag, she unlocked the truck and got in. She braced her hands on the steering wheel. Then, with tears streaming down her face, she started the engine and drove.

  32

  Max

  When Max noticed that Rachel wasn’t in the hall, he felt a twinge of panic in his chest. But then he calmed himself down and reset his breath; she wasn’t in danger anymore. She was probably just getting some air.

  Stepping outside with Brandi, he looked up and down the road outside the hall. Something wasn’t right. He frowned. The truck was gone.

  Max instantly reached for his pocket, searching for his phone, then remembered that Rachel had it with her. Rushing forwards, he was looking towards the harbour and felt something crunch beneath his foot. Beside him, Brandi was nudging whatever he’d stepped on with her nose.