Accidental Agent (River's End Ranch Book 3)

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Accidental Agent (River's End Ranch Book 3) Page 4

by Amelia C. Adams


  She shrugged. “It’s a good place for someone who needs to land on their feet.”

  Huh. Landing on his feet sounded nice.

  Chapter Five

  Liz stepped into the small building that housed the bathroom and shook her head, grinning. Jack just wasn’t going to open up, no matter what she asked him. She’d hoped that by suggesting that he apply for a job here, she could get him to share where he was from and what he wanted out of life, but nope—he just kept turning the questions back on her. It was going to be really hard to get to know the guy at this rate.

  When she exited the building, she saw him taking pictures of a particularly awesome outcropping of rock up ahead. The dark trees created a contrast against the gray of the stone, and with the brilliant blue sky in the background, it was bound to make an incredible shot.

  “I want a copy,” she said, walking up behind him.

  “What’s your number? I’ll text it to you.”

  “I don’t think so. I know your type—you’re the kind who’ll do whatever it takes to get a girl’s number. I’m not that naïve.” She sat down on a nearby rock and waited for him to finish.

  He didn’t glance her way at all, but shifted a little to the right and kept taking pictures. “Rats. You saw right through me.”

  “Of course. I’ve heard all the lines, buddy. All the lines.” She glanced at his phone. It was a nice one—again, maybe he bought it before he lost his job. “Nice phone.”

  “Thanks.”

  She waited. He said nothing else.

  This was getting so annoying. All this fishing, all these dropped hints, and she didn’t know anything more about him than she did when they first started out. She was going to have to get a lot more serious about this investigation—otherwise, all she would have accomplished was a nice hike with a gorgeous guy when she could be at home writing. Hmm. Maybe that wasn’t so bad.

  Jack finally put his camera away, and they resumed their hike. “Let’s play a game,” Liz said. “Truth or Dare.”

  “That’s kind of an odd game to play out here,” Jack replied. “Not a lot of variety in dares.”

  “So I guess we’ll do mostly truths, huh?” She grinned, hoping it was endearing. Come on, dude—loosen up. I’m trying really hard here. “Ladies first. Do you want a truth or a dare?”

  “A dare. I want to see how creative you can be.”

  “Oh? Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. Go back to the bathrooms and lick the toilet handle.”

  He stopped in the middle of the trail. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.” She put her hands on her hips. “That’s your dare. And I brought my camera phone too, so I’ll have a picture as proof.”

  He didn’t take a single step. “No.”

  “No? Is that what you said? Are you going to risk the wrath of the great gods of Truth or Dare by refusing a dare after you chose it?”

  “Yes. I will take that risk.”

  “Fine. Whatever.” She pretended to be annoyed, but in reality, she was glad that her little ruse had worked. She’d finally get this guy talking. “You can take a truth instead, but I have to make it a good one because of the whole wrath thing. The gods must be appeased.”

  They continued on as she thought about it. “Okay, I’ve got it. What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done?”

  He didn’t answer for a long time. Was he thinking about it, or was he getting up the courage, or was he trying to come up with some kind of flippant remark? Finally he said, “Burying my partner.”

  Now it was her turn to stop in the middle of the trail. “What?”

  He stopped too and wiped his arm across his forehead. “Yeah. I, uh, I’m an FBI agent, and I just lost my partner.”

  Liz couldn’t breathe for a second. She’d never expected that, not in a million years, and it caught her so off guard, she almost laughed, thinking it was a joke. But the look on his face, the pain—no, he was telling the truth. She couldn’t help it—she sat down right in the dirt and looked up at him. “Tell me more.” Her heart longed to do something to help him.

  He plopped down in the dirt too without seeming to give it a second thought. “I’ve been in the FBI since the start of my career. Went to Quantico as an idealistic young pup—my dad’s words, not mine—and threw myself into it. I got assigned to the LA office and met my partner. His name was Henry Gleason. He was a big African American guy, wanted to be a pro football player, but never made the cut. He took me in and showed me the ropes. I’ve never had such a powerful mentor before—my dad was there, but not really, you know?”

  Liz nodded to encourage him to continue. She could feel tears building behind her eyes as she watched him struggle for words.

  “Anyway, Henry taught me a lot about life. What it means to be a man, what it means to be an American. Three weeks ago, we had this case—I can’t say a lot about it, but it was rough. There was some crossfire, and Henry got shot. It happened because he was saving me. He died saving me.”

  Jack looked down the trail for a long moment before bringing his gaze back to Liz. “Maybe I should have licked that handle.”

  “I shouldn’t have pressured you. I’m sorry.” Liz felt terrible. It wasn’t her right to go digging into his personal life. If he wanted to keep secrets, he should be allowed to keep secrets. She’d been acting like she had some sort of claim on him because she’d served him a few plates of food—she never should have pried.

  “No, I needed to talk about it. I’ll never get past it until I do.” He picked up a leaf and twirled it between his fingers. “After the funeral, I was kind of a mess, so my boss told me to cut loose and find myself. I just took off and started driving with no idea of where I was going, and ended up here. I’m on paid leave right now.”

  “That explains a lot—the clothes from the general store and stuff. I thought . . .” Liz’s cheeks flushed hot. She shouldn’t have started that sentence. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

  “You thought what?”

  No such luck.

  “I thought you were an unemployed drifter. Then I saw the new clothes and wondered if you were a criminal on the loose or something. Or living on Daddy’s bankroll.” She said it fast, hoping it would be less embarrassing that way. It wasn’t.

  “You’ve got quite an imagination there.”

  “Yeah, I do. And it gets me in trouble a lot.”

  “But you’re also a kind, compassionate person, Liz. Thank you for coming with me and for hearing me out.” His eyes looked even bluer as he connected with hers.

  She couldn’t tell him that she’d mainly followed him so she could pump him for information. She’d made too many revelations already, and she was keenly aware of his rumpled emotional state. No need to go into all that right now. “You’re welcome.”

  They sat in the stillness for a moment, neither one moving until Liz said, “There’s a fork in the path up ahead. If we go left, we’ll loop back around to the ranch. If we go right, we’ll keep going up to the top of the mountain. Which would you prefer?”

  “Hmm. What if we went back to the ranch, and you let me take you out to dinner? I’d like to try the dining room, or if you want, we can go into Riston. What do you say?”

  Liz tilted her head to the side. “Well, I’m pretty sure you were given a coupon for an entrée at the dining room when you bought your clothes at the general store. That’s standard operating procedure.”

  “Don’t you think that’s a little tacky, using a coupon on a date?”

  “Oh? This is a date, then? I thought it was a thank you for my following you up here and making you spill your guts.”

  “Maybe it’s both.”

  If this guy kept looking at her like that, she’d never have to wear blush again. She smirked, trying to hide how badly she wanted to giggle. Giggling would never do. Giggling was for four-year-olds and girls in love. And she was neither. She was almost sure of it.

  “I’ll meet you at the dinin
g room at seven,” she said.

  “I don’t get to pick you up at your place?”

  “I’ve got some other stuff to do and you don’t need to come into town—it’s just easier this way. And now I have another dare for you.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? It’s my turn.”

  “Oh, that’s right. It is. Go for it.” She motioned for him to speak.

  He looked thoughtful for a minute. “No, I want to hear your dare.”

  She grinned. “Race you to the bottom of the mountain!” She took off and headed down the left fork of the trail, laughing when she heard him lumbering behind her.

  Chapter Six

  Jack hadn’t planned to unload on Liz the way he did. His plan had been to keep a low profile, stay under the radar, and not get involved with anyone or anything. But Liz had wormed her way right in and spoiled everything. And when he told her about Henry, the compassion in her eyes had almost undone him. He’d thought he ended up on the ranch purely by accident, but he was starting to think there was some hand of fate in it. Liz was exactly what he needed as he worked through this.

  He waited for her on the wide porch outside the dining room, and when she climbed the steps to join him, he grinned. She wore a sassy little blue floral split skirt and matching blue cowboy boots that went along with her personality perfectly. He’d put his slacks and tie back on. Funny how he’d dressed like this almost every day just a week before, but now he found them confining and he couldn’t wait to change back into his jeans.

  “You look great,” he said, holding out his arm.

  She slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow. “You look uncomfortable.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, I am, but it’s worth it if I get to spend the evening with you.”

  When they walked into the dining room, Jack was impressed by the décor. Everything was upscale—definitely a different vibe from the diner.

  Once they were seated, the waiter approached and introduced himself as Steve, brought them some water, and said he’d be back to take their orders. Jack held his menu without opening it. There was something about the way the lighting was reflecting off Liz’s hair that held him captive. He hadn’t seen it down yet—she wore it in a ponytail at the diner and she’d worn it in a ponytail on their hike. Now it curled softly around her shoulders, and he wanted to reach out and touch it.

  “What do you recommend?” he asked.

  Liz flipped a page in the menu. “Well, that’s the problem. Everything’s delicious. Sam, the chef, does amazing things with food.”

  Jack glanced around and noticed that the dining room was filled to about three-quarters capacity. “You get a lot of traffic out here on the ranch.”

  She shrugged. “It comes and goes. We’ve been pretty busy this week—everyone’s excited because spring’s here and they’re tired of being cooped up for the winter. If you stick around, you’ll see weeks when we have hardly anyone here and we’re just sitting around, staring at each other for entertainment.”

  “If I stick around?”

  Her cheeks flushed pink. He’d have to be careful—he liked making her blush just a little too much. “I mean, if you wanted to. I know you have a life to get back to and stuff.”

  “I’m thinking about it. At least a week.”

  She smiled, a long, slow smile that lit up the room. “And you’ll eat at the diner, right?”

  “Well, of course. There’s a whole column on the menu I haven’t tried yet.”

  When Steve came back to the table, Liz ordered the chicken Marsala, and Jack got the fettuccine Alfredo. “You have to save room for dessert,” she told him. “Sam makes this amazing chocolate torte thing that you’ve got to try.”

  “That’s what it’s called on the menu? A chocolate torte thing?”

  “Well, yeah. I think that’s a great name, don’t you?”

  Jack smiled, but didn’t answer. Instead, he asked more questions about the ranch, and they fell into an easy conversation.

  After they finished eating and Jack had shown appropriate appreciation for the torte thing, he presented his coupon with a flourish, making Liz smile. Then they strolled outside, where the spring air had picked up a bit. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was a few degrees cooler than it had been before.

  “So, an FBI agent,” Liz said, glancing over at him. “You carry a gun?”

  “Yep.”

  “All the time?”

  “Almost.”

  “Oh? When do you not?”

  “In the shower. And to bed. And . . . that’s about it.”

  She looked surprised. “You’re honestly carrying a gun every other minute of the day?”

  He laughed at her expression. “Okay, not every other minute. But the large portion of it, yes. I’m on duty even when I’m not on duty—if I see something strange going on, it’s my responsibility to check it out.” Including getting to know young women who had bodies to dump. He still wasn’t sure how to bring that up.

  “Are you packing right now?”

  He laughed again. “Are you trying to sound tough?”

  “Hey, I’m just checking out the lingo. I’ve never hung around a copper before. A fed. A badge. A man in blue. A . . .”

  He held up his hand. “Yes, I am carrying a gun right now.”

  She stopped walking and turned to face him. “I don’t see it.”

  “That’s because it’s a concealed weapon. They work better if people can’t see them.”

  “Seriously, where is it?”

  “Guess.”

  She circled around him, tapping her finger on her lips. “Ankle holster?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, you’re not wearing a jacket, so it’s not a shoulder holster. I give up. Where is it?”

  Jack indicated his waist. “It’s right here, under my shirt. See how I’ve got the sides bloused out a little bit?”

  “Oh, I get it. And here I just thought you didn’t know how to tuck in your shirt properly.”

  He feigned hurt. “What do you mean? There’s nothing wrong with how my shirt’s tucked in.”

  “Well, yeah. It’s just that most guys don’t leave them so billowy.”

  “It has to be billowy to hide the gun.”

  “I get that now.” She started walking again. He didn’t think she was going anywhere in particular, just walking, and that was fine with him.

  “So, you thought I was a bad shirt tucker-inner.”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so. I was still willing to be seen in public with you, though, so that says a lot for my character.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. She made him do that a lot. “It was very gracious of you to consent. However, does this really count as public? You know all the people here, right?”

  “I don’t know all the guests, but yes, I do know the other employees.”

  “So the fact that you don’t know all the guests means that this constitutes public.”

  “Well, it’s about as public as I get. It’s like this is my whole universe. I should just buy an RV and live in the RV park with Jaclyn.”

  Jack smiled. “I met her. She’s something else, isn’t she? How many rabbits does she have?”

  “No clue. And you know how rabbits are. You might think you know how many there are . . . She says she got them fixed, but I’m not sure such a thing is possible with rabbits.”

  They reached the edge of the buildings. “Out there’s the river, and farther that way is the lake,” she said. “Since you’re staying for a week, you should definitely go horseback riding. Wyatt Weston is in charge of all the horses here. We call him the horse whisperer.”

  “Do you have someone to whisper to the riders? You forget, I’ve never ridden. Except at the birthday party. And that didn’t end well.”

  “Oh, I didn’t forget. I’m gently nudging you toward trying something new.” She flashed him another grin. “So basically, with that gun, you feel totally safe out here in the woods. If some bear or something came along,
you’d just shoot him and all would be well.”

  “I’d really hate to shoot a bear. I hate to shoot at all. I do it if I have to—I just try not to have to.”

  “I can’t believe how neatly you’ve got it tucked away there.” She reached out and touched his waist, then seemed to recoil and pulled her arm back. Jack couldn’t help himself. He caught her wrist and held it, gently, watching her eyes. She blinked, but didn’t object, as he slowly brought her in.

  He slid one arm around her waist, never taking his eyes from hers. At the slightest cue, he’d let her go, but she took a step toward him, and he slipped his hand behind her neck and kissed her.

  A million feelings hit him all at once—the softness of her hair, the sweetness of her lips, a sensation of home and belonging, the idea that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to be alone anymore. He pulled back just long enough to make eye contact with her, then kissed her again, longer the second time, making sure that he hadn’t imagined how he felt. Nope—it was still there, and then some.

  He ended the kiss, then rested his forehead against hers, taking a deep breath. He hadn’t expected that, not at all. He’d just thought a kiss would be nice, not earth-shattering, not life-changing.

  “Jack,” Liz murmured.

  “Hmm?” He still held her around the waist. As far as he was concerned, they could just stay that way forever.

  “Jack, I don’t want to do this.”

  He let her go immediately, not wanting to force anything, and stepped back. “What do you mean?”

  She looked around, seeming a little helpless. “I like you. I mean, I really like you, and that was a fantastic kiss. Set of kisses. Whatever.”

  “I liked them too,” he said, unable to keep himself from grinning. “What’s the matter, then?”

  “I just . . .” She plopped down on a bench he hadn’t even realized was there, and he sat next to her. “You’re just traveling through on your way to something else, while this is where I live. And I’ve been hurt before . . . pretty badly hurt . . . and I don’t want to get all tangled up in something when we both know that you’re going back to the FBI.”

 

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