Finding Paradise

by Barbara Dunlop

  “Nothing,” she said with a headshake.

  “You can’t think nothing. Brains don’t work that way.”

  “Nothing important.”

  “You know the bears are long gone.” He wondered if she was still rattled and didn’t want to admit it.

  “It’s not the bears.”

  “You sure?”

  She made an effort at a smile. “I’m sure.”

  “The film?” He knew they’d been working on it, and possibly something had gone wrong.

  “No.” It was clear she wasn’t in the mood for a heart-to-heart talk.

  He tried to lighten the mood. “Cupcakes?”

  She finally smiled. “No.”

  “Me?” he joked.

  She stretched her neck to look up at him. “Yes.”

  “That’s a lie, Cupcake. But thanks for trying.”

  “How can I not be thinking about you? You’re right here.” She flattened her hand against his chest.

  He decided to let it drop. “Okay. Let’s go with me.” He gave her a tender kiss. “Is it something I can do anything about?” he whispered.

  She shook her head.

  “I’m here, you know. If you need anything.”

  “Yeah?” She stepped forward, tipping her head up in an obvious invitation. “Anything?”

  “Especially that.”

  Her smile widened and she pulled up on the hem of his T-shirt. “Good.”

  He shrugged out of it and peeled her sweater over her head, pulling her into his arms, reveling in the feel of her skin against his.

  “You’ve got bear spray?” he asked even as her kisses pushed everything else from his mind.

  “Who cares about bear spray?” Her hands went to the button on his pants.

  “I want you to be safe.”

  “I’m safe right now.”

  He chuckled. “That you are.”

  He kissed her more deeply then, slowly removing their clothes and tumbling into the bed, making long, sweet love.

  Afterward, he gathered her up, laying her on top of himself, loving the feel of her slight weight and the warmth of her skin. She laid her head down on his shoulder and went quiet. Her fingers toyed with the edge of the sheet.

  “What’s wrong?” he whispered. He knew it was something. There’d been an energy to her lovemaking, a slightly frantic edge he hadn’t felt before.

  She drew a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking.”

  “No kidding.”

  “I think . . . maybe . . . it’s time for me to head home.”

  Cobra stilled.

  “I know that’s not exactly what I’d planned.”

  He felt as though his blood had dropped ten degrees.

  “But there are some things . . .” she trailed off.

  Cobra struggled to find his voice. “Did something happen I don’t know about?”

  “No.”

  He didn’t believe her. “What happened?”

  “Nothing specific.”

  He struggled to figure out what it could have been. “Are you still freaked out about the bears? Between me and some bear spray, you have all the protection you need.”

  “It’s not about the bears.”

  “Then what is it about?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Did I—”

  “It’s not you.” She shifted so she could see his face. “I promise, it’s not you.”

  “Then why?” If he couldn’t zero in on the problem, he couldn’t solve it.

  “A week and a half ago, I left home thinking I’d only be at the airport for an hour, just to send off the girls.”

  “So what?” That couldn’t suddenly be news.

  “There’s milk in my fridge, fruit on my counter, my plants need water.”

  “This is about your plants?” He couldn’t believe she’d leave him for her plants. He’d buy her a hundred new plants if he needed to.

  “It’s about my life. My life’s not here.” She pointed at the window. “It’s out there. I might not be in it right now, but it keeps rolling on without me.”

  He reached for another argument. “What about the Klondike Challenge?”

  She paused over the question, biting down on her bottom lip. “I don’t want to let everyone down.”

  “Then don’t. Stay at least that long.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” He knew he sounded annoyed. He also knew he had no right to be annoyed.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly, her cheek going back down on his chest.

  He had no right to be angry, no right to keep her here, but his hold tightened on her anyway.

  “Damn,” he whispered, feeling a hard blast of despair. “Silas told me it would be like this.”

  She stilled, and he knew he’d said the wrong thing.

  “We’re not Silas and Mia,” she said, her tone flat.

  “I know.”

  “This was always going to end.”

  “I know that too.” He had.

  She drew away from him and sat up, holding the quilt against her chest. “You knew I wasn’t one of them. I never gave you the wrong idea.”

  He sat up beside her. “That’s not what I meant.” He didn’t want her to misunderstand. “I never expected you to stay. Silas said it would hurt to lose you, and it does.”

  She nodded, looking miserable herself.

  Her expression gave him hope, and he ran his fingertips up her arm to her shoulder, kissing her gently there. “A few more days?”

  “I can’t.” She turned to look at him, her green eyes soft as new moss.

  He tried to steel himself against the pain, but it didn’t work. “When?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Wichita, Kansas, hadn’t changed much since the trial. After an overnight stop at her apartment in LA to water her plants and pack a few things, Marnie had checked into the Red Brick Inn on the edge of town. The view wasn’t much to speak of—a parking lot and the back side of a heritage building. But the hotel featured spacious rooms, free wireless, complimentary breakfast and was just a ten-minute taxi ride to the prison.

  Nobody knew she was here, not her father, not Ethan. She was still debating whether to speak for them, and what her obligation might be to her brother. She had another day before the hearing, and she wondered if meeting with them might give her an answer.

  She’d unpacked some dress slacks, blouses and a couple of blazers, plus a pair of high but comfortable ankle boots in case there was a lot of walking over the grounds and into the prison complex—assuming she decided to go.

  Feeling travel-worn and edgy, with nothing to fill her afternoon, she ran herself a bath in the oversize tub. She hoped an aromatic soak would clear her mind, soothe her nerves, maybe give her some clarity so she’d know what to do.

  A long time later, having wavered a dozen times on her decision, she decided she had to get out of these four walls. She called housekeeping for fresh towels, refreshed her makeup in the steamy bathroom and twisted her hair into a quick updo. Her stomach was jumpy, but she knew she had to eat, and she’d seen several restaurants along the block on her way from the airport.

  Looking good enough to go out in public, she dropped a pair of walking shoes on the floor in front of a chair. She sat down then, feeling the strain of her choice, knowing every minute brought her closer to having to make it.

  She flashed back to Paradise, and to Mia’s disappointment when she’d said she was leaving early. She’d let a whole lot of people down, and had probably angered some of them—like Brodie—by screwing up the Klondike Challenge team.

  Her thoughts inevitably moved to Cobra. She could still feel his arms around her, hear his voice, smell his clean woodsy scent. The man h
ad no right to be so sexy. He also had no right to seem so compassionate. She’d been on the very verge of confessing or telling him she’d heard from her father again.

  But Cobra would have asked questions. He would have pushed and prodded like he always did, and she’d have told him. She knew she’d have cracked and told him her secret when all she wanted to do was bottle it up, stuff it down and keep it firmly and completely in her past.

  Which was why she was here, why she was even considering helping them—hoping to end it once and for all.

  Trouble was, she didn’t know if this would end it or make it worse.

  She could sure use a drink.

  Her room had a little fridge outside the bathroom, but it was empty. This wasn’t a stocked-minibar kind of hotel. If it had been, she might have poured herself something strong.

  A knock sounded at the door, and she stepped over her shoes, crossing the tightly woven carpet to the door.

  Expecting housekeeping, she pulled it open. She instantly froze in shock.

  Cobra was standing in the hallway, his head cocked to one side, his gaze disapproving.

  She gave herself a quick shake and blinked to clear her eyes, convinced she must be hallucinating, wondering if she’d fallen asleep in the bathtub and the rest of this was a dream.

  “Cupcake.” He gave a lazy shake of his head. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

  “How . . .” Baffled by his arrival, she looked up and down the empty hallway.

  “Mia told me you’d talked to your dad. Why didn’t you say something?”

  Marnie struggled to speak through her shock. “How did you find me?”

  “There aren’t many Antons in Merganser, Kansas.”

  “This is Wichita.”

  “There aren’t any prisons in Merganser.”

  She fell silent, embarrassment heating her face. “So, you figured it out.”

  “I have access to the internet.”

  “You stalked me?”

  “No. Mia mentioned your dad had called, and I was worried.”

  Marnie clenched her jaw. This was the last conversation she wanted to be having.

  “Why wouldn’t you tell me?” he asked.

  “I don’t tell anyone my family is in prison.”

  He waited, frowning.

  She cracked first. “It doesn’t instill confidence in my clients, okay?”

  “Every family has their black sheep.”

  She scoffed out a laugh. “You? With your engineer dad, your doctor brother and the senator’s aide?”

  He gave a cold laugh. “You do get it, right?”

  She didn’t get anything right now.

  “I’m the black sheep.”

  “No, you’re not—”

  “You mind if I come in?”

  She was brought back again to his unexpected appearance. “How did you even get my room number?”

  “I asked at the desk.”

  “They’re not supposed to tell you.”

  “I asked very nicely.”

  Marnie thought of the fresh-faced young man who’d checked her in. “You mean you intimidated that poor desk clerk.”

  “I really wanted to find you.”

  She arched her brow.

  “I don’t think he wanted me to have to ask a third time.” Cobra looked meaningfully over her shoulder.

  She realized they were off on a tangent. It wasn’t like she planned to lodge a complaint with the manager. “Fine. Sure. Okay. Come on in.”

  He smiled as he walked past her into the room. “You know, you always say yes four or five times?”

  “I must mean it then.”

  He looked around as she shut the door, stopping at the edge of the bed to turn around. “So, he called. You came. But why?”

  She didn’t have a simple answer, so she didn’t try. “You want a drink? I really need a drink.”

  “Sure.” He glanced around the room. “I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”

  She returned to her shoes and sat down to put them on. “I’ve got nothing. We’ll have to go out.”

  “Anywhere in particular?”

  She came to her feet. “Someplace with a full bar.”

  “Good thing I showed up when I did, then.”

  “It won’t be a bender,” she said.

  “Bend away. I’ll make sure you get home safe.”

  “Ever the gentleman,” she drawled.

  “I do try.” He opened the door and held it for her to walk out.

  She was finding she didn’t hate that he was here. She wasn’t sure she was glad he was here and that he knew about her family, but at least he was a distraction. And now that he knew the truth, she could talk to him. That was something good.

  They stopped at the elevator and he pressed the button.

  “You know you could have just called,” she said, thinking about the distance he’d flown. At least one of the legs must have been overnight. He had to be exhausted.

  “I didn’t want to call. I wanted to see you. I wanted to know why.”

  The doors slid open, and they walked inside.

  “How did he persuade you?” Cobra asked as the elevator started down. “You were adamant you didn’t even want to talk to him.”

  “My brother called too.”

  “And?”

  “He reminded me that I’ve been free all these years while they’ve been locked up.”

  There was an edge to Cobra’s voice. “That’s because you didn’t commit a crime.”

  “I know.” But she wondered if that was more due to principles or circumstances. She couldn’t help thinking Ethan’s choices might have been stark.

  “You don’t sound all that sure,” Cobra said.

  “I know I didn’t commit a crime,” she emphasized.

  He gave an exaggerated sigh as the doors slid open on the lobby level. Then patience and humor rolled into his expression. “A certain vanilla buttercream cupcake notwithstanding.”

  A family walked up to the elevator, mom, dad and two kids all weighed down with luggage.

  Marnie allowed herself a little smile as she shifted out of their way. She started across the lobby but spotted a small lounge tucked beyond the check-in desk. “Look. Liquor.” She changed direction.

  “That didn’t take long,” Cobra said as he followed.

  She passed under an archway into a peaceful, burgundy-carpeted room with a horseshoe-shaped bar and satin-smooth wood tables scattered around the edges. There was a vacant one in a corner beside the window, so she took it, sliding into a cream-colored padded vinyl seat.

  Cobra sat down across from her, and the waitress immediately set two cardboard coasters on the table. “Good evening,” she said. “Welcome to the Iron Horse. Can I start you off with a drink?”

  “Vodka martini,” Marnie said. “Double with three olives.”

  “Works for me,” Cobra said.

  “Would you like to look at some dinner menus?”

  “I think we better,” he answered holding out his hand while the woman grinned.

  * * *

  * * *

  Watching Marnie sip her martini, Cobra could barely believe he’d caught up to her so easily. Last night, when Mia had mentioned that Marnie had talked to her father, Cobra had erupted with shock and frustration—his reaction so sharp that Silas had all but put him into a wall.

  Silas had been right. Cobra should never have snapped at Mia. And he wasn’t angry with Marnie either, even though she’d lied to him about why she was leaving Paradise. He was angry with Victor Anton and Marnie’s brother, Ethan, for guilting her into coming down here.

  “And the bears?” Marnie asked, continuing the thread of their superficial conversation then tugging an olive off the skewer with her teeth. Neither of them s
eemed to want to circle back just yet to her reason for being in Wichita.

  “Xavier spotted the bears twenty miles north and still moving away,” Cobra said.

  “That’s good. I was afraid at first that you might have to kill them.”

  “We’re a long way from that.” Cobra twisted his glass by the stem. “Sometimes wildlife officers will trap and relocate a problem bear. Though that’s a lot harder with three of them. And you end up plunking them into the middle of another grizzly’s range, which causes conflict. This way the bears get to move wherever they want. It’s safer all around.”

  She concentrated on dabbing the remaining olives in the wide-brimmed glass. “There’s a parole hearing.” She looked up then. “Tuesday. They have a parole hearing on Tuesday.”

  “Ahh.” Cobra nodded, appreciating the significant piece of information. “That’s why the pressure was on.”

  “Yes. They want me to make a statement on their behalf.”

  He reached out to cover her hand. “Do you want to do that?”

  “No, I really don’t.”

  “You don’t have to. You can just walk away.”

  “Maybe.” But she shook her head as if she were torn.

  Cobra knew about complicated families—maybe not as complicated as hers. But he did understand the push and pull of emotions. “Why not walk?”

  She heaved a sigh. “Ethan. He was older, but we were kids together. I went one way. He went another. It occurs to me now that he didn’t have a choice.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Cobra wasn’t buying Ethan’s innocence. From what Cobra had read online, Ethan was a grown man when he was arrested.

  “I’m not sure about anything. That’s why I want to talk to them.” She polished off the martini. “Tomorrow.”

  “Eat something,” he said, pushing the shared southwestern appetizer platter her way.

  She absently picked up a mini empanada. “You don’t think a hangover will look good on me?”

  “I don’t think it’ll feel good on you. If you’ve come all the way here, you’ve obviously decided to see them.”

  She drew a sigh and dipped the morsel into a bowl of fresh guacamole. “I did come all this way.”