Miranda broke down her campsite and headed back to the base camp. It took about half the morning, but along the way, she ran into Steve and they walked back together in cheerful companionship. Though she forced herself to answer his conversation with calm, happy responses, her mind was wild with uncertainty.
Dane wanted to continue their relationship. She was leaving for Houston far too soon, starting a new life. There was no room for him there. What could she do? Tell him the truth? That she’d been out for revenge due to a high school prank but he was so amazing in bed she’d changed her mind, and they should make a go for it until she had to bail out and move to Houston?
Say nothing and just disappear? Confess the truth? She was torn.
Following the coordinates on the tiny map, they were able to find a finish line tape set up between two stout trees. Brenna and Grant waited there, excited to see the students trickle in from the woods. Nearby, a few other students had already returned. They still had their backpacks on, and stood chatting, clearly not ready to leave yet. In the distance, Miranda could see the ranch house that was the business headquarters.
Brenna wore a party hat. She blew a paper horn at the sight of them and whirled a noisemaker as Miranda and Steve stepped through the ribbon at the same time. “Congratulations!” she called. “You both passed with flying colors! Come over here so I can give you your certificates.”
Miranda was suddenly surrounded by other well-wishers—people from her team, people from the other team, Grant, Brenna—everyone wanted to shake her hand and chat with her about how the week had gone. Brenna handed her a certificate. “Thank you for being a part of Wilderness Survival this past week.”
Dazed, Miranda took the certificate and glanced around. No Dane, no Colt. No Pete, but that was a good thing. “Is…everyone here?”
“Not yet,” explained Brenna. “I think we had one or two get lost in the woods. Dane went to track them down.” She grinned at Miranda. “Still working the kinks out in everything with it being the first class. Glad you made it, though!”
Miranda gave her a weak smile.
Grant stepped in front of her, camera in hand. Oh. “Hey, Miranda,” he said with a friendly smile. “Good to see you again. I heard you’d signed up. You’re just in time for me to get your picture for our graduation board.”
Miranda froze, her skin crawling at the sight of the camera. Suddenly, she did not want her picture taken. She didn’t want to stand here and awkwardly wait for Dane. She didn’t want the others to smile and hug her and chat.
She wanted to run very far away. She wanted to leave this week behind and forget it had ever happened. She was sorry she’d ever gotten in the closet with Dane Croft nine years ago. She was sorry about the pictures, and about her revenge that had gone so very, very wrong.
Houston and her new job was her future. Bluebonnet was her past. And that past now included a very torrid week with Dane Croft.
She held up a hand in front of her face, blocking the camera. “Can I talk to you, Brenna?”
The assistant cocked her head and studied Miranda with piercing green eyes. “Sure.”
She moved to the edge of the trees, away from the others, and waited for Brenna to follow. When the assistant did, Miranda pitched her story, careful to place a hand on her lower abdomen and look pained.
Her excuse? Girl problems.
Brenna looked sympathetic, and when Miranda said she wanted to leave early, even escorted her out to her car. She had to sign some paperwork certifying that she’d finished the class, but within a few minutes of arriving back, she pulled her car out of the gravel parking lot and was turning onto the highway, her mind whirling.
Okay, so she’d just run away from her problems. Cowardly, yes. But it was for the best. A nice, clean break with Dane would be easiest.
After all, it had been a nice clean break nine years ago, hadn’t it?
Sort of?
“Here we go,” Dane said, forcing a cheerful note to his voice as he clapped George on the back. Brenna had set up the finish line again and tooted her celebratory horn as he led the older man back to the finish line. Others stood around and clapped, laughing and smiling. They looked happy. Dane was glad.
Right now, he was just tired. It had been a long week and he wanted to crawl into a shower, and then crawl into bed.
Preferably both with Miranda at his side. She’d been quiet that morning, no doubt wondering how their relationship was going to last now that the class was over. She probably thought they were just fuck buddies, and he’d seen a hint of something in her eyes last night. Something had been bothering her.
And he knew, after seeing that unease and unhappiness in her eyes, that he wanted to take care of it for her. Wanted to be there for her. And it seemed he’d never really gotten Miranda out of his system, had he? Even now, they’d spent a few hours apart and he craved seeing her, scanned the crowd for her pretty, flushed face and that long sweep of silky brown hair that made him hard as a rock when it brushed against him.
Nine years and it had felt like it was just yesterday that he was holding hands with Miranda after graduation, lusting after her.
Being with her had reset something cold and hard in his system. Something that he hadn’t liked in himself. The part of him that had withered when he’d quit hockey. It was back now. Damned inconvenient timing, but you didn’t get to choose when you felt yourself stirring back to life again.
Sometimes life just happened.
So Dane shook hands and smiled and posed for photos with his students for a time, but he didn’t see Miranda. Bathroom break? Had she run off to freshen up? He kept glancing around, looking for her, waiting to hear her sultry laugh.
A big hand clapped him on the shoulder, and he turned to see Colt grinning at him. “Good week.”
“Good enough,” said Dane evasively. “How’d it go on your end?”
“Uneventfully,” Colt said. He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded at the group milling around. “Everyone passed, though there were one or two that had no sense of direction and needed some help. Thought we were gonna starve on day two, but they figured it out after a while.” He eyed Dane. “You?”
“One fool,” he said, thinking of Pete. “Other than that, no complaints.”
“So how was Miranda?” Colt asked. “She whine the whole time about getting her hands dirty or something?”
He forced himself not to stiffen or act evasive. Why was Colt asking about Miranda specifically? “She was a real trouper,” he said. “No complaints.”
“Huh,” Colt shrugged. “I remember her being friends with Beth Ann, is all. That blonde is way high maintenance. Thought Miranda’d be a little more prissy and scared of the woods. So what made her sign up?”
“I didn’t ask,” he said. Was Colt fishing for information? What did he think he knew? Dane wanted to talk to him privately—Grant, too—but with all the clients around, now was not the time to have a discussion about the client he’d been sleeping with. He knew Grant was not going to react to the news well. They needed quiet, and a bit of time to wind down from the class before he let them know about Miranda and him. And if they didn’t like it, well, it wasn’t any of their business.
Plus, he really just wanted to find Miranda at the moment. “Listen, I thought she’d be able to find it back on her own, but I might need to go rescue her.”
“She’s already come and gone,” Colt said with a shrug.
His eyes narrowed and focused on the other man. “What?”
“Like I said, gone.” Colt turned away, done with the conversation.
Frustrated, Dane scanned the small crowd and saw Grant’s tall form in the distance. He plowed through the crowd and approached his friend, who was messing with a tripod. “Where’d Miranda Hill go?”
Grant shrugged, double-checking the settings on his camera. “Saw her chatting with Brenna and then she hightailed it out of here fast. Shame she’s gonna miss the team photo.”
Had to be a mistake. Miranda had come in his arms so sweetly last night. She’d liked him. Trusted him enough to let him tie her up. Hell, trusted him enough to fuck him like her life depended on it. Surely she wouldn’t have left without giving him her phone number. Something.
He stalked off after Brenna.
“Good to see you, too,” Grant said drily as he walked away.
Brenna was busy at her little table, filling out certificates and chatting with the clients. She gave him a cool sideways glance under her long lashes. “’Sup, Dane?”
“Where’d Miranda Hill go? I don’t see her here with the rest.”
She looked unconcerned, and returned to filling out the latest certificate. “She left already.”
Disbelief flared. “What do you mean, she left already?”
“I mean she left already,” Brenna said slowly, as if she were speaking to someone mentally incompetent. “She got in her car and left. Said she was done here anyhow.”
What the fuck? Was she cutting and running? Why? “Un-fucking-believable.”
“Oh, don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Brenna said, misunderstanding his reaction. “We can take the team picture without her. One person isn’t going to make a difference.” When he said nothing, she added, “It wasn’t because she was unhappy with the class or anything. Said she was real pleased. I think she was sick.”
Sick? He shot Brenna a look of disbelief. “She was sick and you let her go off on her own?”
Brenna gave him a look of disbelief, lifting her pen from the endless pile of paperwork. “Are you serious? What was I supposed to do? Cling to her leg as she tried to get into her car? You want me to do that to everyone that tries to leave? I hate to break it to you, Dane, but every single one of these people is going home today.”
He ran a hand down his face and sighed. “Never mind. Just give me her contact information.”
Brenna pulled one folder out from the stack on her folding table, grumbling about how she preferred it when he was out in the field. “Here,” she said finally, flipping through the waivers and handing him one.
Miranda’s curly handwriting stared up at him. He remembered it from high school, from the notes she’d passed him. Seeing it now brought back a surge of memories. Without asking, he grabbed Brenna’s sat phone off the table and dialed the number Miranda had given.
It picked up on the second ring. “Bluebonnet Library,” said a sour voice.
Okay, that was unexpected. “Miranda there?”
“Ms. Hill no longer works here.”
So why’d she give a bogus number? He murmured his thanks and hung up, then stared at the paper to make sure he hadn’t misread it. The address caught his eye.
1 Honeycomb Drive. He knew that address—it was the high school, named after the school mascot of the Bluebonnet Bees. “You don’t go into the city much, do you, Brenna?”
“Should I?” she asked, wrinkling her freckled nose. “Do I need to be familiar with the city, too?”
Dane sighed and handed her back the paper and the phone. Brenna wasn’t local. She didn’t know what anyone in Bluebonnet would have immediately picked up on. “Never mind.”
Why had Miranda given bad information at the beginning of the week? Why so secretive? It didn’t make sense. She wasn’t the type to come up with fake addresses just to be a jackass about it. She’d genuinely not wanted anyone to contact her when they were done.
Fuck that. He was heading into town as soon as they were done here, because he wanted to know what the hell was going on and why she’d run off.
He was starting to think she’d lied. Maybe she was married after all. If she was…hell. He didn’t know what he was going to do. The thought made him want to punch something.
Miranda should have headed home first. She was tired and hungry, and she needed a shower. Most of all, she needed to have a good cry and figure out her head.
Still, instead of heading home, she found herself turning down Main Street and parking in front of California Dreamin’. There were two cars already parked there, so Beth Ann was busy, but Miranda didn’t care. Grabbing her keys, she headed inside.
Beth Ann’s tiny salon had one chair in the waiting area, and it was occupied. In the waiting area, a teenager with orange-dyed hair and blue bangs flipped through a hairstyle magazine. Across the room in the barber chair, a white-haired elderly woman had her curls teased into a bouffant by Beth Ann.
Beth Ann glanced up and her eyes widened at the sight of Miranda. “You’re back,” she exclaimed, her lovely face breaking into a smile. “How’d it go?”
Miranda leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. “Not…well.”
“Hold on just a sec,” Beth Ann said, and finished brushing the last stiff curl into place in old Mrs. Porter’s hair. “There you go, Janey. All good for this week.”
The old woman put on her glasses and paid, departing in a cloud of hairspray and powdery perfume.
The teenager stood and Beth Ann turned to her. “Can I get you to reschedule, Laini?”
The girl rolled her eyes. “You serious?”
Beth Ann opened the front door and scooped up a piece of paper, holding it out. “I’ll give you a free mani if you come back tomorrow.”
“See you then,” she drawled, grinning, and snatched the ticket from Beth Ann.
Beth Ann flipped her OUT TO LUNCH sign and then shut the door, turning to Miranda with wide eyes. “Tell me everything.”
Miranda dropped into the barber chair Mrs. Porter had vacated. It still smelled of powder. “I don’t even know where to begin,” she said wearily.
Beth Ann automatically reached for her hair and then recoiled. “God, Miranda. I don’t mean to be mean, but you stink like smoke and dirt.”
“Do I?” She sniffed her shirt, but really couldn’t tell. Dane hadn’t seemed to mind her smell at all, but maybe he’d smelled the same and she’d been around it so long she couldn’t tell. The scent of campfire would always remind her of Dane after this point. She sighed. “Oh, Beth Ann, I totally messed this one up.”
Her friend’s eyes widened and Beth Ann turned the chair to look Miranda in the eye. “What happened? Did you see him? Talk to him? Get the pictures?”
Miranda hung her head, unable to meet Beth Ann’s gaze.
“What?” Beth Ann said, horrified. “What’s so awful? Were you not able to get pictures of him after all? Did he find you out?”
Miranda sighed. “I saw him. And I slept with him.”
Beth Ann blinked. “Okay. I didn’t realize that was in the plan.”
“A lot,” Miranda added. “I slept with him a lot.”
“Oh.” She appeared to digest this for a moment, then asked, “So this was part of the revenge scheme? Lots of sex?”
“That’s the worst part about it,” Miranda said with a wail. “It was supposed to be a meaningless hookup. I was supposed to have sex with him and just toss him aside when I was done. Use him like men use women. Get my revenge pictures and then move on. Except…now I like him. And the sex.”
Beth Ann pursed her perfectly made-up lips and then grabbed Miranda by the shoulders. “You’re going to sit down over here so I can do your nails, and you’re going to tell me everything.”
Miranda sniffed, and nodded.
Beth Ann steered her friend to the manicure table and while Miranda explained what had happened in the past week, Beth Ann filed her nails and cleaned a week’s worth of grime out of her nail beds. She listened without a word as Miranda spoke, not judging.
Miranda avoided the part about her inability to have an orgasm prior to Dane. That was a little too personal and open even for her best friend, who wouldn’t understand. Beth Ann had always had a steady relationship up until this year, when she was taking time off from her relationship with Allan, her high school sweetheart and on-again, off-again fiancé.
“So that’s what happened,” Miranda said softly as Beth Ann put a glossy coat of clear polish over her short nails. “I wen
t into the woods knowing I wouldn’t be able to get the photos, and I did it anyhow. And I figured that okay, I’d just sleep with him and then get the pictures after the class was over. But last night, when we were sleeping together, I…I couldn’t do it.” She squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation of Beth Ann’s response. “You think I’m an idiot, don’t you?”
“Honey, no,” Beth Ann soothed. “Not at all.”
“But you don’t approve.”
Beth Ann’s pink lips pursed. “No, I don’t. He’s always been the guy that dicked you over in high school and left you out to dry. I don’t care if he has puppy dog eyes now and a particularly fine ass. He’s always going to be that jerk who hurt my best friend, even if you don’t want your revenge.”
Miranda managed a miserable smile. “Thanks, Bethy.”
She patted Miranda’s hand. “I can’t judge you for sleeping with the wrong guy. Heck, look at me. I’ve had a relationship with a man who can’t keep it in his pants, and yet I somehow keep forgiving him, right?” She gave Miranda a sad smile. “So who am I to judge?”
“You guys have been split for a year now, Beth Ann. You stood up for yourself,” Miranda said encouragingly.
Beth Ann gave her a weak smile and wiped away a stray smear on Miranda’s cuticles. “At least you believe in me. Everyone else seems to be waiting for me to ‘come to my senses.’”
Miranda snorted, and Beth Ann grinned.
“Well,” Beth Ann said after a moment. “One thing’s for certain.”
“What’s that?”
“Next time you go on a camping trip, I should probably give you a bikini wax.”
Miranda smacked her best friend on the arm and laughed.
FOURTEEN
D
ane pulled his jeep up on Main Street, looking for a familiar building. Several things had changed in Bluebonnet since he’d last lived here, and while he hadn’t been into town much since he’d returned, he knew there were a few things that had stayed the same. One of them was Hill Country Antiques, the little shop window just as cluttered as ever, the wooden sign hanging crookedly. And Miranda had mentioned that her mother, Tanya, still ran the place. He stepped inside the shop, a cowbell clanking against the glass door to signify his arrival.
The Girl's Guide to (Man)Hunting Page 20