Runaway

by Susan Sheehey

  The horn sounded to start the contest. The crowd went wild, calling out names and cheering on their favorite contestants. Tommy and Ralph seemed to be the favorites.

  With their hands clutched behind their backs, the men dove face-first into their apple pies. Reed watched as they all gobbled large chunks at a time, steadily devouring the pie from the pan. It was going to be close.

  Then Ralph jumped up, hands high in the air, and pie smeared over his face. The horn sounded. Tommy lifted his head and frowned.

  The mayor inspected Ralph’s pan. “This year’s champion is Ralph Summerlin,” the mayor announced, holding his hand up in victory. “He’s won the coveted Apple Trophy, as well as bragging rights until next year.”

  Reed was fairly sure that was the first time he’d seen the man smile.

  The crowd cheered and applauded. Skye put two fingers in her mouth and let out a loud, long whistle.

  Damn! What other fascinating things could she do with that mouth?

  She laughed, and a pink blush graced her cheeks.

  “Who’da thought Ralph was the competitive type?” Reed chuckled.

  “Oh, you don’t know the half of it. When he loses, boy, can he hold a grudge. But since he won this contest, life will be a lot easier at the diner for a few weeks.” She laughed. “They have another contest with the kids, so let's go get in line for the hayrides.”

  “Onward, fearless leader.”

  Again, she grabbed his hand, and they walked up the street several blocks.

  “You like leading me around, don’t you?”

  “Maybe.” She grinned. “Get used to it. We’re out here tomorrow at nine a.m. when the orchards open.”

  What? “Tomorrow?” So no trips to Seattle for research.

  “Yup. This is a two-day event. Frankly, it’s the biggest one in Cascade Creek. It’s grown over the years. It pulls people from Greenville, Florence, really all the surrounding counties.”

  Skye talked about wanting to get out of this town, but the pride in her voice contradicted her. She was a walking paradox that kept him guessing every day. Maybe it wasn’t necessarily the small-town life she resented, only the lack of excitement. A desire for something new. Different. Lord knew much of his career was spent doing the same, mundane routine every day. But he could see how waiting tables to the same customers, the same meals, day in and day out for years would drive him crazy. But she loved her friends. She loved guiding him around and showing him her world, introducing something new. Just from the look on her face, all lit up with energy, that was obvious.

  They made it to the line for hayrides. Skye bopped on her tiptoes, her head darting this way and that, then she pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket. Likely texting Lynée.

  He swallowed a chuckle. He could just imagine texting Joe:

  I’m carrying scented candles and waiting for a hayride. Are you coming?

  His former partner would‘ve probably laughed his ass off. Making Reed the target of his jokes for the next month.

  Fuck! He missed that man. Brothers couldn’t be closer. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t think about Joe or his antics or the way he could drill down any situation into its barest form. Reed even missed this constant ribbing on his technology infatuation.

  “Hey. Where’d you go?” Skye’s sweet pink lips frowned at him.

  “Just wondering how long this line will take?”

  “Oh, it shouldn’t be too long. They have three trailers. Besides, Lynée and her cousin are coming.”

  “Hi, guys.”

  Reed turned to see a strawberry blonde, about Skye’s height, and a shorter brunette smiling at them.

  “Hi.” Skye’s voice went up an octave as she hugged the women.

  “Guy, this is Lynée and Josie.”

  “Nice to meet you, ladies.” Reed watched their hands full of bags from treasured purchases.

  “So, you’re the illustrious new chef in town.” Lynée smiled.

  * * *

  Skye could hardly contain her glee with Guy on her arm. The appreciation all over her friends’ faces with just one look at him made her even giddier. What a concept, to be proud of her date, and he not be overly protective and controlling. Comfortable in his own skin. His toned muscles packed into his gray T-shirt, his deep brown eyes that seemed to take in everything, or his bite-worthy ass that made you want to grab a hold with both hands—the whole enchilada.

  “So, how’s the job goin’?” Lynée asked.

  “Haven’t killed anyone yet, so that’s a good sign.”

  The women chuckled. Skye smiled. After waiting a few minutes, their tractor pulled up. With a helping hand from Guy, the ladies climbed onto the flatbed and took a seat on the bales of hay.

  “This will take us past Gordon’s orchards and around Rimmer’s olive farm. There are some great views of the pass. Have you ever skied up here before, Guy?”

  “Can’t say I have.”

  “What’s the likelihood of Skye turning you into a permanent mountain man?” Lynée dared to ask. “Or are you here just hiding out for the winter?”

  Any amusement on Reed’s face disappeared.

  Skye nudged her with an elbow and a not-so-subtle glare.

  An awkward silence stretched between the group. Like jagged nails dragged along her back.

  “He already told me.” Skye smiled, trying to lighten the sudden dark mood. “He’s a secret agent looking for his next target. The perfect clam chowder recipe. He plans on stealing the diner’s version and claiming it for his own.”

  He scoffed, and his smile returned. “Who knew the world’s most dangerous dish was in sleepy Cascade Creek? Gotta save the world somehow.”

  “One spoonful at a time.” Lynée giggled.

  The tractor went over a few potholes in the dirt road leading to Gordon’s. “Hang on,” the driver called.

  Skye bounced in her seat. Before she could get a firm sitting, they hit another pothole. She flew up from her perch and pitched forward. Guy reached out, grabbed her waist, and pulled her back onto the hay bale before she crashed to the floor.

  Her heart skipped as she clutched the hay. Guy’s grip was firm and sure on her body. “Fast hands. Thanks for that.”

  “Don’t mention it.” The corners of his perfect mouth curved upward, and she admitted those were some incredibly tempting lips.

  She turned her head to hide the blush she was sure crept over her cheeks.

  “Too much rain,” Josie said with a frown. “It makes these roads like swiss cheese.”

  To her delight, Guy kept a hand wrapped around her waist for the rest of the jarring trip.

  When they finally stopped, he jumped down first, then held out his hand to all the ladies. Skye was last. He lifted her by the waist, as if she weighed no more than a plate of her own apple pie, and set her down on the ground. The contact made her melt a little more inside. She didn’t want him to let go.

  “Sorry about Lynée,” she whispered in his ear. “She can be a bit direct when she turns protective.”

  Guy rubbed the small of her back in small circles, so soothing. “Protective friends are a good thing. And I’ve had much worse inquisitions.”

  Bits of straw and hay covered Guy’s pants and his back. She started swiping off a few from his shirt. Her hand hit something hard, probably his belt. He turned just as she swiped once more, and her hand brushed across his crotch a little rough. A complete accident and she bit her lip.

  “Sorry.”

  He laughed and swiped off the rest. His blush made her cringe inside.

  “What’s the plan, guys?” Josie asked after she replaced her sunhat.

  “Does this event have beer?” Guy winked at her.

  The sun glinted off his eyes in a brilliant amber, and his rugged face looked tanner than before.

  Lynée gave Skye a look.

  “Follow me, Mr. BB Gun. We have the best hard cider in the entire state.” Skye knew it. The man deserved a beer afte
r the last ride. And her accidental groping.

  They arrived at a tent full of various flavored hard ciders, and she ordered four large glasses. “Thanks, Parker.” The owner waved at her from the other side, helping a few other patrons. She handed one to Guy. “Give this a try.”

  He took one from her hand, his amber gaze glued to her face. Even during his first large gulp, he never looked away. He wiped the excess that dribbled from his chin. “Not bad.”

  “Take it easy. This stuff goes straight to your head,” Lynée said. “By the way, I’d like to find something for my mom, since she couldn’t make it out this year.”

  “And I want to buy a wind chime for my sister,” Josie added.

  “Sounds good. Then we can go to Rooster’s for dinner.” As they meandered down Main Street, Lynée and Josie strolling several paces ahead, Skye glanced up at Guy. He really seemed to take in the surroundings, absorb the atmosphere. What she found most interesting about him was that he seemed to like watching people. Like he’d never been to a festival before. Everywhere they went, his head never stopped scanning. “Has this town grown on you?”

  He took a second before he answered. “Surprisingly so. Especially a few people.”

  “We might make a small-town mountain man out of you yet.”

  “Doesn’t that require me to grow a three-foot-long beard and wear bearskins?”

  “If you like.”

  “Could you get used to that look on me?”

  She slipped her hand in his, entwining their fingers together. The simple gesture had her heart skipping a beat until he tightened his hold and pulled her in closer. Her body fit perfectly into his side. Her heart thumped wildly. Sure, it could’ve been the cider or all the extra fresh air. But Skye liked the idea of having a sexy man on her arm. With eyes only for her.

  I could get used to this.

  * * *

  Wow. How long had it been since Reed held a woman’s hand? Or strolled down a street seemingly without a care in the world? When she started cleaning off his shirt and hit the butt of his pistol tucked in his back waistband, he’d panicked and tried to cover it. Only to end up fondled in the process. Which honestly, he didn’t mind. He was more concerned about her finding his other gun.

  But that was just the moment he realized how badly his member needed attention. It had been far too long since his last release, he couldn’t even remember when. Thank God the cider could help cool him off.

  Old habits kept him searching every face that passed by, watching people’s hands, discreetly peering around corners, and monitoring exit points. He had to be on his guard around all these festival-goers in case someone showed up to finish him off. The cider didn’t have a chance at dulling those instincts. A gunfight would put an end to this whole fanfare damn quick.

  Worst of all, he could be endangering Skye. Just by holding her hand.

  But damn, he couldn’t stop. She felt so good to hold, drawn to his side. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, letting her sweet perfume waft over him. He’d hold onto this memory to keep him sane during dark moments, wherever he ended up.

  The idea of leaving this place twisted his stomach. None of the other places he’d hidden out in over the last year impacted him like this. Cascade Creek had given him a reason to stay for once. His spirits dimmed at the prospect of running again.

  Think of something else. Quick.

  “How’s school going?” he asked. The other ladies walked several feet ahead, perusing a few booths as Reed strolled with Skye on his arm.

  “Good. Taking my core comm classes now.”

  “What would you like to do after you graduate?” Keeping up the facade of being an average Joe was vital for an outcast on the run. Still, part of it was also the strong interest in this woman walking beside him. The tractor ride was more than worth it because he got to hold Skye. His only regret was that he couldn’t pull her closer. Not without creating a scene.

  “I’m not exactly sure. Maybe work in public relations or for a security firm.”

  “Security?”

  “Yeah. Wouldn’t that be cool? Surveillance, security, possibly guard dogs. Protecting people from bad guys.” Her eyes nearly sparkled with intrigue.

  He shouldn’t be surprised. Skye would probably be good at security, her imagination would be great for leaving no stone unturned. “I’d feel a little sorry for the criminals if they had to try and hide from you.”

  She gasped. “Ooh, or maybe the police academy. Do you think I’d make a good cop?”

  The face of Joe’s murderer flashed in his mind, those evil eyes and vicious face…

  The idea of Skye facing that man made his blood boil. His protective instincts kicked in, and it was the last thing in the world he wanted for this incredible woman. After just one week facing the kind of horrors he’d dealt with in his career… her infectious optimism would be snuffed out. Granted, her stellar people-skills and attention to detail would make one kick-ass detective. Why wouldn’t she make a great cop?

  Check yourself, Reed. He shouldn’t doubt her capabilities or partake in a Neanderthal mentality. He’d known some excellent female agents over the years.

  Shit, but he couldn’t help the thought of her in a chokehold from a perp on meth, or getting shot in a routine traffic stop.

  “You don’t think I’d make a good police officer?” Her voice lowered.

  He looked up to see her dejected expression. “Oh, no. You’d be awesome.”

  “You paused.”

  “I’m sorry, I was just thinking of…you and…”

  She smirked. “Me up against a bunch of mean criminals, getting thrown to the ground by a brute twice my size?”

  He gave her a stunned look. Did I say all that out loud?

  She chuckled. “Lynée’s not the only protective type around here, Guy. It’s written all over your face. Sure, the attitude is a bit chauvinistic, but I know it comes from a good place with good intentions.”

  “Damn, you make me sound like a misogynist.” He side-stepped a group of kids running across their path. Lynée and Josie approached a casual restaurant’s front patio, looked back at them, and continued whispering.

  “Well, knowing is half the battle. Now that you know, how are you going to change the behavior?” She snickered. “Now I sound like Lynée.”

  The way Skye could read people shamed him at his own job.

  “Let me be perfectly clear.” He stopped and tugged her in front of him. Holding onto her arms gently.

  With just a tilt of her head, her hair fell forward, framing her angelic face. Everything about her was soft.

  The sun sank lower behind her just over the treeline, the pink and purple light haloing around her head.

  “If you wanted to be a police officer, you’d be incredible at it. Or whatever else you set your mind to.”

  The sun had ducked behind a mountain peak by the time they finished dinner. Street lamps glowed in the twilight, and a brilliant canopy of twinkle lights dangled across the main road. Reed followed the women past a few more booths, truly having enjoyed a simple meal without being in a rush to finish. He’d let the trio do most of the talking, and successfully dodged any probing questions directed at him. He’d gotten good at that lately.

  Skye had touched his knee under the table a few times, the innocent gesture reassuring and soothing.

  This was what ordinary people did on dates. In small towns. No dramatics, no shoot-outs, just simple conversation, and genuine interactions. Man, he craved this.

  Following Skye and her friends along the street as they perused more booths felt like the most natural thing in the world. They paused at one, filled with jewelry.

  A little farther down, a different one caught his eye. One filled with ornate wood carvings.

  “I’m going to check out this one,” he told Skye.

  She nodded and winked.

  The owner greeted him with a smile, and his handlebar mustache twitched. “Hi, I’m Jude. See anyth
ing you like?”

  “A few.” Some of the pocket knives with wooden handles reminded him of something Joe would’ve loved.

  “I carve everything by hand,” Jude continued. “On this wall are pictures of commissions I did.”

  “Nice. How long does it take you to complete one of those?”

  “A few weeks.” The man was talented—everything from hearts to headboards to Harley-Davidson plaques. A relief wood carving of a lion pulled his attention. The detail in the lion’s mane was extraordinary.

  Skye’s voice made Reed’s ear perk up. Not her usual upbeat self. More pinched and harsh. Definitely not like her. He shifted away from the booth to have eyes on her.

  She’d turned pale. She stared at someone, though most of her body was turned away from some blond, gel-haired man. Maybe two inches shorter than himself smiled and wrapped a hand around her upper arm.

  The pressure rose in Reed’s chest, and heat crept up his face.

  “It’s been a long time, Skye,” the face started.

  Her eyes lost their sparkle. “Not long enough, Vance. What are you doing here?”

  Reed circled around a couple at the booth, making his way to her. So this was the asshole. He was hoping to meet this prick at some point in his life. On a quick glance, Vance didn’t have a pistol concealed in his pockets, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t carrying. Or had some other weapon. Lynée and Josie were several booths down, clearly unaware of what was happening.

  “I’ve been looking for you,” Vance cooed, obviously unthwarted by her aversion.

  “Have you now?” Reed chimed in, giving an over-exuberant smile. He draped his hand over Skye’s shoulders. “Hi, pumpkin. Who’s your friend?”

  A glimmer of relief crossed her face. “Guy, this is Vance.” She was still far too pale.

  “Well, son of a gun.” Reed offered his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Out of sheer habit, the bastard Vance shook his hand.

  Reed gripped hard and didn’t let go.

  Lynée returned, her smile instantly vanishing when she saw Vance. “What are you doing here?” She stood partially in front of Skye as if shielding her.