The Runaway

by Jennifer Bernard

  Gracie wasn’t sure she’d ever heard her crusty, tempestuous, impossible father use the word “cute” before. Her heart turned over in her chest, and she bit her lip hard so as not to burst into tears before she asked all her questions.

  “So no one was looking for me? You didn’t find anyone?”

  “That’s what I said.” Max’s tone was getting edgy now. “No one was looking. We decided to keep it a secret, but your mother changed her mind.”

  “But why not just tell us the truth?” Gracie demanded. “Why make me grow up with a lie?”

  Max’s beard quivered, a sign that he was getting upset. Nicole crouched next to him with concern. “Don’t get snippy, kid. We did what was best. I did what was best. When Amanda changed her mind, that’s when the trouble started. Now you’re doing the same damn thing. Leave it be, Gracie. Just leave it the hell alone.”

  A shock ran through her, head to toe. Had she been expecting an apology? Mad Max didn’t do apologies, but why was he yelling at her?

  “So you never thought about telling me? Not once?” Her voice came out thick and slow, as if her throat was having trouble with the process.

  “No. No sense in looking back. You belong with us. That’s all I need to know.”

  “And why was that your decision?” The dam broke, and in a rush, hot anger flowed through her. “You act like you’re the king of the castle. And I’ve been here bopping along, scooping ice cream, making fairy houses in the woods, afraid to leave the lodge, waiting for my life to start, knowing that something was off. I knew. Deep inside, I knew there was something missing. I knew, and I was afraid to know, and I was stuck like a glitching computer. No going forward, no going back, just blinking on and off.”

  Everyone was staring at her. She felt their eyes on her, but all she could see was Max’s stubborn face. Everything else faded away. She’d been his faithful daughter, the only one to stay at the lodge instead of striking out on her own. She’d practically run the place—in her own unconventional way—until Max got his diagnosis and hired Nicole.

  And all that time, he’d been lying to her?

  Suddenly it felt unforgivable.

  “You should have told me,” she said flatly. “I had a right to know. I have a right to know. Tell me the whole thing, right now.”

  With a thunderous frown, Max thumped his cane on the floor. “I don’t take orders from you. She found you, we figured out how to keep you, and here you are.”

  “That’s it? Nothing more to say?”

  “You made Amanda happy. You…kept her from leaving.”

  “So that was my purpose in life? To keep your marriage together?” Her voice rose.

  “Gracie,” Isabelle murmured, putting a hand on her forearm.

  Gracie shook it off. “I have a right to know these things!”

  Griffin rose to his feet, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Does it matter now?” he asked tightly. “It’s water under the bridge. You’re our sister. You’re one of us. Your purpose wasn’t to save anything, it was just to be yourself. To be Gracie.”

  “And how am I supposed to know what that means when my entire life has been a lie?” she cried.

  “Easy, Gracie,” Kai warned, getting to his feet.

  “Easy? None of this is easy for me! You don’t know what it’s like finding out you’re a stray baby someone stumbled across in the woods! It’s…it’s…”

  She whirled around, unable to find the right words and wanting only to get away from the weight of all those eyes on her. None of them understood. Not one of them.

  Eyes filled with the mist of oncoming tears, she didn’t notice the wall of male chest filling the doorway until she slammed into it.

  Stunned, she looked up to find Mark’s dark eyes gazing down at her, his hands stabilizing her so she didn’t fall.

  “Confusing?” he said gently, finishing her sentence for her.

  She was so glad to see him.

  “Mark.” She grabbed on to him as if he was a rescue chopper about to airlift her to safety. “Can you get me out of here? Please?”

  17

  Mark felt Gracie’s tremors all through his body. She was normally so lighthearted; he’d never seen her so upset. Not even after that crazy party with Druggie Lowlife dude.

  He folded her against him and glanced up at the rest of the group. These must be the Rockwells. They were all staring at him with expressions ranging from fascinated to stunned. A quick series of impressions struck him. Green eyes, that was a theme. Various shades from jade to jungle green. Then the old man in the armchair, with a wild white beard and a cane that look like something out of Lord of the Rings.

  Rugged, that was the word that came to mind about the men in the room. A lot of testosterone was staring back at him. Three older brothers, Gracie had said. Yup, that about covered it—not to mention the big, brawny guy with the broken boxer’s nose.

  The three women looked less alarmed and more curious. One of them had the Rockwell green eyes, but the other two must be girlfriends. Gorgeous girlfriends, one with tumbling dark-red hair and a diamond glittering in one nostril, the other with a kind face and a slightly pregnant belly.

  Unsure what to do—it seemed rude not to say anything—he gave a slight bow of his head to the crew. “Hi. I’m Mark. I’m going to, uh, take Gracie—”

  “The hell you are,” barked the old man. Gracie had called him “Mad Max,” and right now that description fit. “You leave her be. Mark who?”

  “Mark Castellani. And sorry, sir, but Gracie wants to leave.” He tried to untangle himself from Gracie so he could move his feet, but she refused to let go of him. She clung to him in the exact same way drowning swimmers used to during his time as a lifeguard.

  The woman with the green eyes came toward them. She had an air of vivid aliveness to her that made him think of riding a fast boat across the ocean.

  “I’m Isabelle, Gracie’s sister,” she said. “Gracie, please don’t leave like this. We all love you. Can’t we help?”

  Gracie shook her head, and he saw that her face was stained with tears. “You can’t fix this with surgery, Izzy.”

  “Of course not, but—”

  “We’re going now. Come on, Mark.” She relaxed her hold on him and took his hand instead.

  “Maybe give her a little time?” Mark suggested to Isabelle.

  “Okay,” she said reluctantly.

  He smiled at her, surprised by how much he instantly liked her. In general, he was wary with strangers and liked to take his time warming up to people. But Isabelle had a direct fearlessness that cut right through his defenses.

  “But just so you know, Gracie, we’re here for you. Don’t let Max scare you off.”

  “I’m not scared, I’m just—mad.” She actually stomped her foot a little, barely missing Mark’s.

  “Hey, I get it. I spent most of my childhood mad at Dad. Maybe that’s why we nicknamed him Mad Max, because he made us so mad.” Her attempt at lightness brought a tiny smile to Gracie’s face. “Take some time, show Mark around the lodge, then let’s talk more later.”

  Gracie nodded, her mouth twisting as if she was biting her lip. Then she turned back to face the room and glared at her father.

  “Max, don’t you ever speak to Mark that way again. He’s the one who saved my life. I wouldn’t even be alive today if it wasn’t for him.”

  “What are you talking about?” growled the old man.

  Mark cringed with embarrassment and tugged at Gracie’s hand. But she ignored him and announced loudly, “Mark’s the one who carried me into the woods.”

  “You left her in the woods?” The old man’s face turned brick red, and he waved his cane at Mark.

  He took a step back, wondering if coming here had been a huge mistake.

  “No, Dad! He rescued me from a carjacker!” cried Gracie. “He pulled me out of the car, and he ran with me into the woods. Don’t you dare be mean to him!”

  Good God, she was going to giv
e the poor man a heart attack.

  “Let’s go, Gracie,” he murmured. “This isn’t the moment. Look at his face.”

  The pregnant woman was already at his side, talking to him softly, clearly trying to calm him down. It didn’t seem to be working. Max thumped his cane on the floor, glaring in Gracie’s direction. “You don’t tell me what to do!”

  Enough. He swept Gracie into his arms and stepped sideways through the door, bonking one elbow in the process. He kicked the door shut behind him and strode down the first hallway he saw.

  It took a few moments for Gracie to relax. He just kept walking down the hallway that led away from the raftered reception area. Most of the wallpaper had been stripped off, revealing ancient plasterwork. He’d caught the lodge in mid-renovations, apparently.

  And mid-family drama.

  Partway down the corridor, Gracie slid out of his arms. “I’m fine. I mean, I’m a mess, but I can walk. I’m not going to yell anymore.” She drew in a long, shuddering breath and took a few steps away from him. “What are you doing here, Mark? I mean, besides saving me from giving my dad a stroke?”

  “He did look pretty red in the face. Will he be okay?”

  “Kai’s a rescue paramedic, Nicole’s a home health aide, and Isabelle’s a trauma surgeon, so yes, probably.” She made a face. “No thanks to me. Ugh, I completely lost my cool. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize to me. Well, you can apologize to me, but not for that. Maybe for—”

  “For leaving? I gave you notice.” Her defensive tone made him laugh.

  “Yes, I think you said ‘roughly two weeks.’ Way to give yourself some wiggle room.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” She covered her face with her hands. “God, I’m screwing everything up. Is that why you came here? You’re mad about the notice?”

  “No. I came because I can’t have you seeing Kaminski on your own.”

  “Kaminski?”

  “Janus Kaminski. The kidnapper.”

  Her eyes widened. For the first time since he’d met her, she wasn’t wearing a sundress or shorts. She wore jeans so tight they could have been leggings and a white hooded sweater with glittery silver threads woven through it. Also, purple half-boots with pom-poms. She was adorable—and he’d missed her so much, it hurt to see her again.

  “Wow. You told me his name.”

  “Yes. But you already know it, don’t you?”

  She winced at his reminder of another uncool thing she’d done. “I’m sorry I searched through your box. But you said you weren’t going to tell me. You said you’d never help me find him.”

  “I was wrong,” he said simply. “It’s important to you. So I’m going to help.”

  She flew across the worn floorboards of the hallway and into his arms. He grunted as she hit his body, wrapping herself around him. “Thank you! Thank you, Mark. Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re here. It’s so good to see you.”

  “Yeah.” She’d knocked the breath right out of him. “You too.”

  “Really? Even though you just saw me at my most childish?”

  “Family is well known to make a person crazy. And this isn’t exactly a normal situation. We both left ‘normal’ behind years ago.”

  She leaned back in the circle of his arms. Her legs were wrapped around his hips, and he realized that his hands were on her ass, cupping her and keeping her from sliding to the ground.

  Oops.

  That was bad, he supposed, in some distant part of his brain. And yet it was very, very good. The empty feeling in his gut, the one that had followed him all the way from Southern California, was finally gone. He was with Gracie again, and nothing else seemed to matter all that much.

  “I can’t believe you came.” She wiggled, adjusting her position, and his cock hardened eagerly. Slow down. Not the right time. “Wait, who’s watching the marina?”

  “Dwayne.”

  “Dwayne? Do you think he’s ready for that much interaction with people?”

  “He thinks he is. Anyway, he was the least problematic choice.”

  She cocked her head, probably considering his staff. “Yes, I can see that. I bet he’ll do great.”

  “He seemed determined to rise to the occasion.”

  Something was rising to the occasion, anyway.

  He gritted his teeth. How could he be so turned on in a half-renovated hallway with her entire family on the other side of a closed door only yards away?

  “I can’t believe you left your precious marina in the hands of a PTSD vet just so you could come after me.” Tears filled her sea-green eyes. “I’m such a bucket of trouble.”

  “That you are.” He shifted her higher, so his cock wasn’t quite so close to the heat between her legs. Imagining the softness hidden behind her jeans was driving him crazy. “It’s only about number fifteen of my favorite things about you.”

  “Fifteen? Out of how many?”

  “Still counting,” he murmured. “That’s why I had to catch up with you. I didn’t want to miss any.”

  Her eyes widened, and her lips parted, as if a light had turned on inside her, and suddenly—he wasn’t sure how it happened—they were kissing. A deep, crave-satisfying, knee-melting, cock-hardening, gut check of a kiss. This close, crushed against him, Gracie felt like a part of him—a part he’d been missing all his life. The feel of her mouth, hot and eager, made wild images flash through his mind.

  Gracie naked. Bare nipples. What would they look like? How would she look when she came? How would she look straddling him? Touching herself? Touching him?

  He pulled away, gasping, his dick so hard he thought he might lose it and come right then and there.

  “Privacy?” he managed. He jerked his head toward the closed door where her family was still gathered. “Don’t want anyone coming after us with a cane.”

  She slid out of his arms, landing lightly on her feet. “Come on.” She was all mischief and excitement, her tears gone, at least for now.

  Grabbing his hand, she loped down the hallway, skipping to one side when they passed a loose board.

  “Watch your step. I tripped there and bruised my knee once.”

  He sidestepped it too. This was her true home, he realized, right down to the floorboards. She knew every little corner intimately. No wonder it had been such a shock to find out that she wasn’t a genetic member of the family.

  They took a few more turns until they reached the end of a corridor. There, Gracie stopped in her tracks in front of an open door.

  “Oh my God,” Gracie breathed. “They’re renovating my room! I didn’t say they could do that.”

  “Maybe they figured they’d take care of it while you were gone?”

  She peered through the open door with an odd expression. Not upset, really. More—dumbfounded. The room was charming, nestled under the slanting eaves. All the furniture was pushed into the center of the room under a drop cloth. A fresh coat of paint glistened on the walls. He’d never seen a color quite like it—a light seafoam with a silvery undertone.

  “It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “That’s one of my favorite shades of green!”

  “Just spitballing here, but maybe they love you?”

  She bit her lip. “I know they do. And I love them, too. But right now, I can’t be around them. I can’t cope. It’s too much. I just want to be with you.”

  Amen to that. “Any stray houseboats lying around?”

  “No, but…” Her face brightened, and she zipped up her sweater. “There is a place, an old hunter’s cabin where I used to hang out and sketch.”

  “Works for me. How far is it? I don’t have snow boots.” He’d left the marina in the fishing boots he generally wore at work—and regretted it as soon as he hit the mountains.

  “Do you ski?”

  “Only on the water behind a speedboat.”

  “Snowshoe?”

  “Always a first time.”

  She scrunched up her face in thought. “Have you ever been
on a four-wheeler?”

  “Not sure what that is, but does it have an engine?”

  “Of course. And four wheels.”

  “Sold.”

  18

  Even though Mark had never ridden on a four-wheeler before, he was instantly hooked. “It’s no Jet Ski, but it’s not bad,” he told her from the passenger seat.

  “I used to pester my brothers to let me tie a sled to a four-wheeler, kind of like water skiing.”

  “You’re kind of a dream girl, you know that?”

  Her face glowed, though that might have been from the wind whipping against their skin as they bumped and rattled through the woods.

  Nothing could have prepared him for the sheer splendor of the Cascades and the deep forests surrounding the lodge. Since it had been dark the night he and Gracie had almost escaped from the kidnapper, he’d never gotten a real look at their surroundings. And being only six, and terrified, he wouldn’t have noticed much anyway. Now, in the daylight, he saw only beauty.

  “Hey, how far is the spot where your mother found you?” he asked Gracie.

  “I honestly don’t know.” The question seemed to surprise her. “Mom knew these woods really well, so it could have been anywhere. She might have had a four-wheeler with her. There’s really no way to tell. Why?”

  “No real reason.” He held on to the grip bar as they hurtled over a mound of snow. “Old times’ sake, I guess.”

  “Silly.”

  “Not a word people often use around me.” He smiled at the thought. “I’ll try to live up to it and not be so serious.”

  “You’re fine.” She took one hand off the steering wheel to tug down the brim of her knitted conductor’s cap. “I don’t want you to change. I want you to stay exactly as you are. Kind of stern and serious. I love the challenge of trying to make you smile. It’s like climbing Mount Everest or something.”