Nick UnCaged: Sanctuary, Book Four

by Abbie Zanders

  “Tell me more about you,” Nick coaxed.

  “Like what?”

  “What’s your life like in San Diego?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t spend a lot of time there, to be honest. I have an apartment that I share with my cousin, but I travel more often than not.”

  “Do you like to travel?”

  “I enjoy seeing new places and meeting new people, listening to their stories. But the actual getting from here to there part? Not so much.”

  “Why don’t you conduct interviews virtually? Practically everything can be done online these days.”

  “I do sometimes, but my boss prefers the immersed approach, and honestly, I do, too. It’s hard to get the real feel for a place over a screen. The same goes for people. You can’t read body language as well from a headshot alone or get a sense of who someone is strictly from the virtual background they select on a video call.” She waved her fork in the air. “Like all of this, for instance. Had I talked to you only via video chat, I wouldn’t have had the experience of making s’mores or watching a meteor shower.”

  “Technically, we didn’t see much of the meteor shower.”

  Her face grew warm at the reminder. “Exactly. We couldn’t have done that virtually now either, could we?”

  His grin was as sinful as it was endearing. “Point taken. And that would have been a damn shame.”

  She shifted, ignoring the increasing desire to repeat that particular part of their field trip.

  “Yes, well, that’s not usually part of the interview process.”

  “I didn’t think it was. And don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m glad it’s not.”

  Was there a wrong way to take that, especially when his green eyes were filled with heat and something that looked suspiciously like possession? She had to admit, the thought of him doing what he’d done to her with anyone else aroused some possessive feelings of her own.

  Bree mentally chastised herself. She had no business feeling possessive. What they’d shared was a one-time thing, nothing more. She’d known that going in, and she knew it now.

  “So,” he said, shuttering his gaze and returning his attention to breakfast, “have you always wanted to be a journalist?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “What, then?”

  “When I was a kid, I wanted to be an author,” she blurted out the words before she could stop herself.

  Books were a great escape for her. She loved the ability to get lost within the pages. At some point, she’d started creating her own made-up worlds and characters, where she could control the outcomes. She had several already written, encrypted on her hard drive, unseen by any eyes but her own.

  She dropped her eyes, unwilling to see the disappointment in his eyes or the polite smile she was sure he wore. There was a reason she never shared her dream. It was silly.

  “What kind of books?”

  She looked up to find him waiting patiently for her answer. No indication of derision or judgment. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

  He nodded and made an X over his chest.

  “Cozy mysteries and paranormal romance.”

  “You mean, like Miss Marple meets vampires and werewolves—that kind of thing?”

  “Yes, exactly!” she exclaimed, pleased that he understood. “I used to read a lot of Agatha Christie. The woman knew a thing or two about how to weave a web. And I loved her characters. Each time I finished a story, I felt like I knew them.

  “Then, the wizard boy who lived and the vampire who sparkled came along, and I loved those, too. They opened up a whole new world of possibilities, and I thought, Why not do both? Combine my love of whodunits with the fantasy world-building of preternaturals.

  “And then I thought, Why not even take it a step further?” As it always did, the excitement built inside her when she thought about it, and her words came out faster. “Write a book but create an interactive digital universe, where things change based on the reader. I got the idea when I was rereading one of my favorites. I guess I was in a different frame of mind from the first time I’d read it because I wasn’t as on board with the heroine’s choices, and all I could think of was, What if she’d said or done this instead of that?”

  Realizing she was babbling, she reined in her enthusiasm. “I’m sorry. TMI, right?”

  “Not at all. Have you looked into how you would go about doing something like that?”

  She shook her head, embarrassed. “No. It’s just a silly idea; that’s all. Blue-skying, my cousin Toni calls it. Unlike you, I am not technically inclined, and since I am not independently wealthy, I need to earn an actual living.”

  He frowned. “Tell me about Toni.”

  “She’s more than family. She’s my best friend,” Bree said truthfully, trying to think of a way to best describe Toni. “Fearless. And a complete nut. I told her I was moving to California, and the first thing she said was, ‘When do we leave?’ ” Bree smiled at the memory. “We lucked out, both getting jobs at the Voice—me in the mailroom, her as a gofer. She’s in research now.”

  “She sounds awesome.”

  “She is,” Bree confirmed.

  Breakfast finished, she stacked the plates and stood. As much as she would like to spend the rest of the day talking—and potentially doing other things—with Nick, there was no use in prolonging the inevitable. The longer she stayed, the harder it would be to leave.

  “Well, I should be going. I have some things I’d like to check out in town before I leave.” She thought briefly of inviting Nick to spend the day doing those things with her but dismissed that idea as well. It wasn’t Sanctuary that was hard to walk away from. It was him.

  He stood, too. “I’ll walk you to the lot. It’s not far.”

  “Sounds good. Let me just change, so I can give you your clothes back.”

  “Keep them, if you want. I’ve got plenty.”

  It was tempting. His clothes were roomy and comfortable and didn’t smell like they’d been hanging in a stable. On the other hand, they didn’t exactly convey the kind of professional image she hoped to maintain. Or what little of it remained after her unplanned sleepover.

  As a compromise, she kept his shirt, tucking it into her oversize bag—a memento of sorts.

  His mood seemed to change when she reappeared, dressed in her own clothes. Gone were the easy smile and mischievous sparkle in his eyes as they made the disappointingly short walk back to the lot.

  “When are you flying out?” he asked.

  “Late tomorrow night.”

  “Do you have everything you need? For your article, I mean.”

  “I think so.”

  “So ... I guess this is good-bye.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

  And yet they stood there, reluctant to part ways. At least, that was how Bree felt. She wasn’t sure what was going through his mind. His expression was no longer readable, his body language stiffer than it had been. He’d shut down, as if he’d already moved on.

  “Thanks, Nick. For everything.”

  “You’re welcome. Safe travels.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Bree

  Bree thought her mood would improve as she put more distance between herself and Sanctuary, but it didn’t. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was leaving something important behind.

  But that was ridiculous. She barely knew Nick. They’d spent one night together—albeit one amazing night. Now, it was over, and it was time to wrap up this assignment and move on to the next one.

  The thought left her uninspired.

  Telling Nick about her dream job—and why exactly did I do that?—had reminded her what it felt like to be excited about something. How long had it been since she’d actually experienced that kind of hopeful anticipation over an assignment?

  Oh, it wasn’t as if her job was horrible; it wasn’t. It allowed her to travel to places she might otherwise never go to and meet interesting people. Plus, she ear
ned a decent wage, enough to keep a nice roof over her head and pay her share of the bills. That was the goal of adulting, right? Responsibility, not dreams.

  But is it enough? And is it wrong to want more?

  When Bree turned onto Martha’s street, she was surprised to see a Sumneyville PD patrol car parked in front of the B & B. Hoping nothing bad had happened to Martha, she parked quickly and hurried in to find Officer Lenny in the kitchen with the older woman.

  “Bree! Thank goodness!” exclaimed Martha when she saw her, clasping her hand to her chest.

  “What happened? Is everything okay?”

  “Where have you been? I was so worried.”

  It took Bree a moment to realize that nothing was wrong. Martha had been worried about her. “Why?”

  Just that quickly, Martha’s expression went from one of concern to one of irritation. Her tone was chastising when she pointedly said, “You didn’t return last night.”

  Bree was surprised she’d noticed; Martha had been sound asleep and snoring like a chain saw every other night. Then again, Martha had probably noticed that her car wasn’t parked in the driveway when she got up that morning and thought the worst, although, in reality, Sumneyville’s version of a worst-case scenario was most likely being broken down on the side of the road and having to wait for service.

  Been there, done that. Aloud, she said, “My plans ran later than expected.”

  Martha sniffed. “You could have told me you were going to be out all night.”

  Bree wasn’t sure what to say about that. She wasn’t used to explaining her comings and goings to anyone, least of all someone she barely knew. She was about to apologize but then decided against it. What she did was no one’s business but her own.

  “See, Martha? Told you there was nothing to worry about. Bree’s a big girl.” Officer Petraski stood and thanked Martha for the coffee and then cast Bree an unreadable look. “Walk out with me?”

  Bree followed Lenny outside, unsure of whether to expect a rebuke or commiseration. “I’m sorry she called you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I got a decent cup of coffee and a peach Danish out of it.” His smile was kind, his eyes searching. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  Hands on hips, he glanced to the side before his penetrating gaze swung back to her. “Because I can guess where you spent the night.”

  She crossed her arms and met his judgmental gaze with one of her own. “I fail to see where that’s any of your concern.”

  His brows came down, the polite smile replaced by a grimace. “It’s my concern because this is my town, and despite what you think, you’re in over your head. Those guys are not the selfless do-gooders you think they are.”

  Bree felt offended on behalf of Nick and the others she’d met. She’d seen no evidence that would suggest they were anything other than what they’d said they were despite vague allusions cast by Lenny and the Ladies Auxiliary.

  “So you’ve insinuated. But you know what you haven’t provided? A reason why I should take your word for it.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched.

  When several moments passed without a response, she exhaled and said, “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Thanks again for your concern. Have a good day, Officer Petraski.”

  She turned and made it to the porch before he called out, “Ever been to a potbellied pig race?”

  What the hell? She paused. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

  “You should go. Tonight. Community Days at the park. Just follow the signs. Can’t miss it.”

  She turned to look back at him and found his expression ... determined. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement inside the house and knew Martha was listening. “Are you going?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it. I’m heading over after my shift.”

  “Then, maybe I’ll see you there.”

  He nodded, then got back into his cruiser, and drove away.

  Bree went back into the house, thinking that was one of the oddest exchanges she’d ever had, though she was fairly certain Lenny’s strange and seemingly random invitation was for Martha’s benefit.

  Martha was still miffed when Bree returned to the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. Bree sat down, picked up Penny, and began to stroke her silky fur. It was barely eleven a.m., and she was already exhausted.

  “No hot breakfast after nine a.m.,” Martha told her as she slid a tray of fresh whole fruits and pastries onto the table.

  Bree revised her no-apology strategy. She had one more night in town and didn’t want it to end on a bad note. “This is more than fine. Thank you. I’m sorry I worried you. I honestly didn’t think anyone would notice.”

  Martha sniffed. “Well, I don’t know what you’re used to, but we look out for each other around here.”

  You mean, you get up in each other’s business, Bree thought wryly, though she had to admit, the thought of having someone concerned for her well-being with no ulterior motive wasn’t all bad.

  If something happened to her at her place in San Diego, no one would notice—or care—for days, except Toni—although even that was iffy since Toni spent nights at Hunter’s private condo more often than not these days.

  “Come, Penny.” The tiny dog dutifully jumped off Bree’s lap and crawled into the large canvas bag Martha had placed on the floor. “Penny and I are off to Zeigler’s.”

  The name rang a bell. “The farmers market you were telling me about? The one with the bulk candy?”

  “Yes, that’s the one.”

  “Do you mind if I tag along? Just give me a minute to change.” Without waiting for Martha’s response, Bree ran up the steps and changed into fresh clothes, using a few spritzes of citrusy body mist for good measure.

  Martha was waiting at the door when she came back downstairs. Her slight scowl faded when Bree offered to drive them over in the convertible. Martha even smiled when Penny put her little paws on the car door and turned her face into the breeze.

  Zeigler’s was a series of wooden warehouse-like structures, set back from the road. Behind the buildings, the massive parking lot was nearly full. And not just with cars and trucks. There were horses and Amish buggies too! She surreptitiously snapped a few pictures to show Toni.

  Inside, the place was like a maze. She was glad she had Martha to guide her; Bree wasn’t sure she would have found her way out otherwise.

  Open cell-like stalls held a wide variety of merchants selling everything from fresh meat and produce to homemade crafts and World War II memorabilia. Bree was in awe; she’d never seen anything like it. She was like a kid in a candy store, particularly when Martha led her to the bulk-candy section. The seller laughed when she filled several bags with Squirrel Nut Zippers, Mary Janes, Caramel Creams, and a variety of other vintage candies, paying only a fraction of what she paid online. She even managed to pick up a used, hard-sided piece of luggage to haul it all back to California.

  The downside was, Martha knew a lot of people at the market and felt compelled to stop and chat with each and every one. Of course, they all wanted to know who Bree was, where she was from, and what had brought her to Sumneyville. At first, Bree was looking forward to gauging their reactions when she told them she was doing an article on Sanctuary, but she soon realized that they were tempering their responses around Martha. There were a few times when Bree thought people would have said more had Martha not been standing beside her.

  After several rounds of the same questions and comments, Bree had had enough. When Martha stopped to chat with a woman behind the butcher counter, Bree wandered away to check out a nearby stand selling homemade soaps. The fragrant bars were stacked in neat pyramids in various shades of translucent colors.

  With Martha occupied, Bree took her time to sniff each one. There were at least two dozen different offerings. Her favorite was the Egyptian Musk, but she liked the apple and grapefruit ones as well. The sandalwood and evergreen bars mad
e her think of Nick.

  “Do you have one that combines these two scents?” Bree asked the woman behind the counter.

  “We do, but it’s a custom blend and not generally available.”

  “Made for anyone in particular?”

  “Oh, yes.” The woman chuckled. “A very nice young man at Sanctuary. He’s one of our biggest supporters. In fact, we now have a contract to provide all of the soaps for the facility. But this blend, this one is just for him.”

  There was no question the woman was talking about Nick, beaming as if he were her son.

  “Then, I guess I’ll just have to buy the bars individually and get creative.” Bree picked up several bars—some for herself, some for Toni, but she had no intention of sharing the evergreen and sandalwood. Those were for her and her alone.

  Eventually, Martha reappeared and said she was ready to go.

  Shortly after they arrived back at the B & B, Martha left to help with the Ladies Auxiliary booth at the Community Days celebration. Bree promised Martha she’d stop by later.

  From waking up in Nick’s strong arms to hitting the mother lode of vintage candy, it had been an amazing day. She should have known it wouldn’t last.

  Chapter Thirty

  Cage

  After Bree’s taillights disappeared from view, Cage turned on his heel and walked away from the main building. He wasn’t in the mood for interrogation or discussion. He’d begged off earlier because Bree was in the trailer, waiting for him, but with her gone, he could no longer use that as an excuse.

  He’d come back and deal with the fallout later.

  Should he have done what he had? Probably not. But he couldn’t regret it either. It had been so long since he’d enjoyed a woman’s company and never one to the level he had with Bree. It wasn’t just because of the passion they shared, but the whole span of their time together. Riding. Teasing. Talking. He’d even liked it when she was annoyed with him.

  He found himself wishing they could have had more time, but perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. They’d ended on a good note, hadn’t they?