by Janie Crouch
But now, she wasn’t unconscious, and he wanted to touch her almost as much as he wanted his next breath.
“I do want to see you smile more, Lexi Johnson. But I don’t know that I can leave you in peace. Do you want me to leave you alone?”
“I—honestly, I don’t know.”
He kissed her. What should have been their first kiss. He had no agenda, no ulterior motive. Just a need to feel her lips under his. When her fingers dropped to his waist, clutching him closer, he slid his hands into her hair at the nape of her neck. He kept the kiss gentle, easy. She’d opened up to him a little bit today, and he didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize that.
Besides, he wouldn’t mind just kissing her for a few dozen hours.
Eventually, he pulled back. He leaned his forehead against hers. “Lexi, I want to help you. Whatever it is that scares you sometimes... that has you looking at the nearest door like you need to be prepared to run through it at a moment’s notice? I want to help. Let me help.”
Those huge eyes blinked at him, and for a moment he thought she was going to share whatever burden it was she carried. She was going to let him help her.
Then the shutters came down.
“I think you’ve got too much soldier on the brain, Sheriff.” She pulled away so they were no longer touching, closing in on herself. “Not everybody is a damsel in distress in need of a white knight. Some of us are just ordinary waitresses with no fancy story to tell.”
He didn’t believe that for a second. “Lexi, please. Whatever it is, I want to help. Let me help.”
She didn’t meet his eyes. “I’ve got to finish getting ready and head over to the Eagle’s Nest to clean up the mess I didn’t get to last night. You showed yourself in, so I’m sure you can show yourself out. Thanks for your help.”
She turned and walked back into the bathroom. The door closed firmly behind her with a resounding click of the lock.
Gavin turned, gripped the sink until his knuckles turned white. He’d pushed too hard. But damn it, he couldn’t help her if he didn’t know what was going on. He rinsed their plates and the coffee mugs, and was about to do the same with her juice glass when he stopped. Instead of rinsing it, he grabbed a paper towel and wrapped it around the tiny glass. She was the only one who had touched it. It only had her fingerprints on it.
He slipped on his jacket and put the glass into the pocket. He could run it for prints and find out more about what was going on with Lexi Johnson.
He wanted to help.
10
Lexi avoided talking to Gavin about anything of consequence for the next week. She’d come way too close to spilling her guts the morning after her insomnia coma.
He’d said he wanted to help. That tune would change if he knew the truth. Sure, someone like him wanted to help the struggling lady and banish the fears in her eyes.
But she was pretty damned certain he wouldn’t be interested in helping the convicted felon who’d brought her trouble on herself.
She wouldn’t be able to stand the look that would come into his eyes if he knew who she really was. Disappointment. Disgust. Forget any more kisses, it would be back to watching her like she was the enemy.
Better to keep the sexy sheriff at bay. She couldn’t keep him out of her fantasies—and he was damned well there every night, kissing her in her dreams—but she could keep her distance in real life.
Focus on work, on getting the money she needed to pay off what she owed on her ID, and get some set aside in case she had to run again if her stalker caught up.
She hadn’t remembered it was Thanksgiving Day until she got to the Eagle’s Nest and saw the closed sign Mac had left on the door. He’d told her yesterday that he wouldn’t be here today, that he’d be visiting family. He’d even awkwardly asked her if she’d like to go with him, to which she’d laughed lightly and said no.
At the time she’d thought he was kidding, because who would run this place if they both were gone? But now, looking at Mac’s sign, she realized the intent behind his awkward invitation.
Happy Thanksgiving. There’s a lot to be thankful for, but do it somewhere else.
Mac was nothing if not direct.
Thanksgiving had never been a big celebration in her life. It had generally been a break for the cast and crew, so she tended to fly somewhere international and hang out for a while. Always somewhere upscale and classy. Five-star hotels that catered to her every whim. But she’d always been alone.
Last year had been the most people she’d ever spent Thanksgiving with. The North Carolina Correctional Institution for Women definitely hadn’t been a five-star luxury establishment, but they had served turkey, or something like it, on Thanksgiving Day. And for once, Lexi hadn’t eaten alone.
Alone was preferable.
Lexi let herself in to the bar. Nobody being here would give her a chance to catch up on some other work—stuff she enjoyed but struggled to find time for. Who would’ve known she had such a head for business?
The Eagle’s Nest had been doing fine under Mac’s watch all these years, but he hadn’t been interested in making it grow or attempting to turn a bigger profit. When she’d first mentioned her ideas for growth—opening for lunch, offering themed nights, sprucing the place up a little—he’d been hesitant but had agreed. Once he’d seen how well everything was going, he’d pretty much let her take over. He “liked having young blood” in the place.
Mac was tired, she realized. Ready to start thinking about retiring. She’d been here six weeks and already was wondering if maybe she could eventually save up enough money to buy this place from him. Mac didn’t have any children, and as far as she knew, he didn’t have any other family interested in the bar.
Maybe, just maybe, she could make this place work long-term. She didn’t miss acting—not that anyone was going to let her go back to that. She didn’t miss being in the limelight. But she did miss having something to put her effort and energy toward.
It would take a while to get the money, and it would mean a lot of days and nights of hard work, but she wasn’t afraid of hard work. All she needed was a chance.
And now that Gavin wasn’t hunting her anymore—he seemed to be taking her request for privacy at face value—maybe it could all work out.
She wasn’t surprised he’d run her name through his law enforcement system and was glad that her new ID had held up. The man she’d bought it from had told her he’d built an electronic persona that would withstand a basic search, but she’d had no way of knowing whether that was accurate until it happened.
Evidently, it was accurate. Because a certain sexy sheriff had sat with her all night rather than arrest her. Or, at the very least, serve her with some very pointed questions.
And then he’d kissed her senseless. Again. Maybe once more not to try to get information out of her, but because he wanted to help. Wanted to protect her.
She’d told him to leave and had fled to the bathroom. She’d studied herself in the mirror for a long time. She couldn’t tell him the truth, but if she’d stepped out of the bathroom and he’d still been there, she would have dragged him to the bed and had her way with him. She wanted him with a ferocity she could barely recognize.
But he’d been gone. Of course, he’d been gone. He was a gentleman, and she’d asked him to leave.
And she didn’t want to admit how much she’d missed having him skulking around and staring at her the past week and a half. She’d seen him a couple of times, but he’d obviously decided she didn’t need to be under twenty-four seven observation. She should be happy. But she kind of missed him, her second stalker.
She spent a few hours getting the Eagle’s Nest accounting books in order. Mac’s system—stuffing receipts in a giant envelope and never looking at them again if it wasn’t necessary—made her eyes cross. She was trying to drag the system into the twenty-first century, but it was slow going. Finally, she decided to head back to her apartment. It was already getting dark, and
hopefully, she’d get a couple hours of sleep.
Maybe she’d stop by the Frontier Diner and grab herself a piece of their apple pie.
She’d been feeling better since she’d been eating the healthy foods that Gavin had bought for her. She’d been able to get a little more sleep and not feel so exhausted all the time. It had made enough of a difference that she’d picked up some fruits and veggies herself a couple of days ago.
She had six more payments on her ID, and she already had enough to make next week’s payment, leaving her enough money for fresh food. She had enough money for a piece of pie from the Frontier without feeling guilty about it.
She swallowed her disappointment as she walked to the other side of town and found the diner closed. Of course. Thanksgiving in a small town. She should’ve expected it.
“I’ve got a shit ton of Thanksgiving leftovers in my studio if that’s the sort of thing you came here for.”
Lexi spun around. Wavy Bollinger. “Actually, I came for a slice of pie. But while you’re here, I need to thank you for helping me out a couple of weeks ago during Quinn’s girls’ night out.”
“No thanks necessary. I know what it’s like to be expecting a quiet night at your place of business only to find yourself drowning.”
“You took off before I could offer you a share of the tips.”
Wavy smiled at her. “Definitely not needed. Look, I’m just getting home from the Thanksgria party, which is our town’s unique blend of Thanksgiving and sangria, and it’s been a crazy day. Why don’t you come up and grab a couple of plates to take home with you? I’m sure I can find some pie that’s nearly as delicious. Hang out with me for a little bit if you’re not doing anything. I could use the company.”
She shouldn’t. Making friends only led to danger in the long run. But it had been so long since she’d just chatted with someone casually.
“Sure.” Lexi smiled. “Anything for pie.”
Wavy led her another block down Main Street then up over the hardware store.
“This is my studio. This isn’t my legal address, but really I live here. We’ll have to ignore the mess.”
They walked up the outside stairs. “What kind of studio?”
“Art. Painting, more specifically. You’ll see.” Wavy unlocked her door, and they went inside.
This studio was five times larger than Lexi’s apartment. It obviously wasn’t meant to be a living space. A bed had been shoved into a far corner. Right next to it was the bathroom, although it was really nothing more than a toilet with a curtain wrapped around it. A little farther down the same wall was an industrial sink, plus a hot plate and a microwave set up on a table.
The rest of the massive room was taken up by canvases, easels, and paint supplies all over the place.
“Like I said, excuse the mess.” Wavy stepped over a tarp and some brushes on her way to the refrigerator that looked to be at least thirty years old. “My art is still a hobby, doesn’t pay any bills, but I’m hoping someday it will.”
“Would you mind if I look at some your work?”
“Do you know anything about art?”
Lexi shrugged. “Honestly? Not really.”
Wavy’s face lit up in a grin. “Then be my guest. Would you like a drink while you’re looking around? After today, I need one.”
“Sure. Bad Thanksgiving?”
Wavy shrugged one small shoulder and brushed her reddish-brown hair back from her face. “Not bad, but very emotional. I’m sure you know my brother, Baby.”
“Yeah, he’s around the Eagle’s Nest a lot because of Quinn.”
“He had some unexpected news to share. Took us all by surprise. But it was good in the long run.”
Wavy didn’t seem to want to elaborate, so Lexi didn’t push. “Well, I hope you guys are all okay.”
Wavy poured a water glass half full of wine and handed it to her. “We will be.”
Lexi took the glass and walked toward a group of paintings near the fridge. As soon as she saw the first one, she knew this was going to take longer than she’d thought.
Wavy was good.
“Do you care if I do a little painting right now while you’re looking around? I’ve got an image in my mind, and it’s not going to stop bugging me until I get it down on canvas.”
Lexi didn’t look at her. She was too busy still studying the first painting. “Be my guest.” She set her wine down on a bucket that was turned upside down.
She studied the canvas—a small oil painting of the Tetons surrounding the town. The mountains themselves were lovely in Wavy’s creation, but it was the abstract colors floating around them that truly made the piece compelling.
The second canvas was more evocative than the first. An abstract cityscape this time, but still with a use of colors and textures that drew the eye. Lexi set that one down and was reaching for a third when another canvas halfway across the room caught her attention. This one was of Oak Creek itself, the view down Main Street including the wooden sign—all captured with near-perfect likeness.
Lexi hadn’t been lying when she said she was no art expert, but she knew enough to know that one person being so well versed in two different styles like this was unusual.
“Did you do all these?”
Wavy looked up from what she was painting for a second. “Yeah. I’m more compelled by colors and the blending of patterns—not abstracts, that’s too weird for my taste—but life with more color, I call it.”
Lexi held up the Main Street painting. “This is pretty damned accurate.”
“I can do realism if I force myself to be disciplined.” Wavy grinned. “I’m not big on discipline.”
Wavy went back to her painting, and Lexi looked around, more and more in awe with each canvas she saw. Who knew there was such an incredible artistic talent hiding in a tiny town in Wyoming?
“Did you go to art school?”
“No. I was thinking about it a few years ago, but then Dad died and Mom needed me around. I’ve taken some online classes, but mostly I paint what comes to me. Nobody around here knows I do it, at least not to this extent.”
“Wavy, I know you let me see this because I don’t have any real art expertise, but, damn, girl, you need to send this stuff out. At least go talk to some art agents or dealers. Maybe something will come of it.”
“I don’t know. I’ve lived in Oak Creek my entire life.”
“Look, I’ll be the last person to tell you to leave this place considering I picked it out of everywhere in the world. But you’ve got a talent, and if you’ve got a passion, I think you should at least see where it will take you.”
Wavy was painting so intently Lexi wasn’t sure the other woman was processing what she’d said. But it really was a shame to hide all this talent away. The more Lexi saw, the more she was sure of it. She got her glass of wine and kept looking.
“What about you?” Wavy finally said. “What’s your passion, Lexi?”
Surviving.
She didn’t say it, but it was what instantly came to her mind. For the past eighteen months, that had been her sole focus. The only thing she could afford to feel passionate about.
Except what she’d felt for Gavin. Wanting him had been the only thing that had come anywhere close to cracking through the wall she’d built around herself in order to survive.
“Right now?” she finally responded. “I’m pretty focused on building business at the Eagle’s Nest.” Hopefully, Wavy wouldn’t push more than that.
The younger woman added a few more details to her painting before cleaning the brush she’d been using and setting it down. “And that’s why you came here? To run a bar?”
Lexi smiled at her. “Not all of us have your artistic talent.”
“Artistic talent comes in lots of different shapes and sizes.” Wavy picked up the canvas and spun it around so Lexi could see it.
The painting had obviously been rushed and didn’t offer the same level of detail that Lexi had been gazing at for
nearly an hour, but its subject was crystal clear.
It was Alexandra Adams, famous television star, at a red carpet event in a gold silk dress, posing for photographs.
Lexi swallowed and fought to keep her glass from slipping out of her numb fingers.
It was a picture of her.
11
The world spun around Lexi. Looking at Wavy’s painting, all she could think was that now she had to run again.
And she had nowhere else to run to.
Why had she spent money buying fresh groceries when she should’ve been saving it? Why had she let herself get comfortable?
“Lexi!” Wavy’s face was right in front of her. “You need to sit down. Take a breath.”
She needed to run. “How did you find out?” Who else knew? Would there be other people looking for her? Was the press about to show up here?
“Lexi, please, sit down.” Wavy led her to a folding chair. “Nobody knows but me. Something just clicked in my head when I saw you today. I’m a little upset that I didn’t recognize you before now.”
“But . . . how?”
Wavy shrugged. “I don’t know. Blame it on my artistic eye—my brain sees things differently than most people do. And I was kind of obsessed with you on Day’s End. You were my favorite Tia.”
But there had been more than one Tia Day on the show because once Lexi had been fired and arrested, they’d needed someone else to carry on the show as the title character.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
“I kind of wondered what happened to you after that whole stalker situation.”
“I went to prison for a year for obstruction of justice.”
Wavy waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, I know that. I didn’t know what had happened since then. The press reported that you got out of jail, but then that was it. You sort of dropped off the face of the planet.”
Lexi couldn’t believe they were having this conversation so calmly. There was no look of disgust in Wavy’s eyes for what she’d done.