The Runaway
Page 16
He laughed and squeezed her shoulder. “You helped, believe me. I’ve been wanting to bounce ideas off someone.”
“What about the lady detective?”
“Someone who isn’t her, so I can wow her with my deductive brilliance.” He laughed at himself. “But Kai’s always massaging Nicole’s feet or making her smoothies, and Griffin’s all wrapped up with his first camp for kids. Izzy’s been away until a couple of days ago. Obviously, I can’t talk to Max about it.”
“So basically, what you’re saying is that you missed me terribly.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Especially because I’m the only other single Rockwell left. And now I guess that makes you the only single Rockwell.”
His eyes brightened. “Got something to share?”
“Yes. I’m not a Rockwell.”
He thumped a hand against his chest, as if she’d stabbed him. “You gotta stop saying that. Promise? It takes a little chunk of my heart every time you do.”
Filled with affection for her sweetheart of a brother, she snuggled her head against his shoulder. “Fine, even though it’s pretty good material for teasing. But you have to do something for me.”
“Sure. What do you need?”
“Don’t get your hopes up about Mark. None of that ‘got something to share’ wink-wink stuff. And don’t call him a good guy.”
“He’s not a good guy?”
“That’s not the point. The point is, you can’t call him one. You need to focus on his flaws, the way I am.”
“I think I get it.” Amusement threaded through his voice. “Flaws. Like that it’s a little stalkerish to follow you here?”
“No!” Indignant, she straightened up away from him. “That’s a terrible thing to say! It’s not stalkerish at all. He came here to help me find the kidnapper.”
He threw up both hands in self-defense. “Okay. How about the fact that he doesn’t know jack shit about the snow or the mountains?”
“You can hardly hold that against him. He’s an ocean guy.”
“Right. Right.” Just then, Mark drove past the ski room, his dark head flashing in the window. “Well, he’s not at all good-looking, so there’s that.”
“Excuse me?” Her indignation sent her voice into a squeak. “He’s like some kind of Italian-Greek-Hispanic-possibly Persian God! He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”
Jake folded his lips together, clearly working very hard not to burst out laughing.
She swatted him on the arm and got to her feet with all the dignity she could muster. “You made your point. You can go ahead and laugh.”
So he did. Luckily, he was Jake, and she would forgive him for anything.
“Anyway, since I’m turning into such a pro investigator,” he said when he was done laughing, “do you want my help with the next step of your search? I can take a little time away from the bar for this.”
“Aw, Jakey.” She bent down to press her cheek against his. “You’re the best. I did come back here thinking that I could use some help. But…now I think I need to do this on my own.”
“You mean with Mark.”
“Yes, with Mark. He knows more about the kidnapper. He’s really the only other person who understands the whole crazy situation.”
Jake nodded, a smile quivering at the corner of his mouth. “Good thing he’s such a flawed guy, just loaded with flaws, so very, very many flaws, how can you even keep track of all those flaws? I hope you’re keeping a list.”
“You can stop now.”
“Not until I’m ready.”
20
Gracie’s family convinced them to spend the night and leave the next morning. That meant dinner with the Rockwells, an unforgettable experience in so many ways. Max said barely a word, and everyone was clearly trying to keep the conversation away from difficult topics.
They asked Mark about the marina. He told them about his plans to expand on what his uncle had built. Even though Ocean Shores seemed very far away, it felt good to talk about it.
The conversation turned to Kai and Nicole’s upcoming wedding and the birth of their baby. Every time the couple tried to pin down a wedding date, something would come up to change it.
“If only we could convince the baby to be more flexible and maybe take eleven months instead of nine,” Kai joked.
“Bite your tongue.” Nicole swatted him lightly on the arm. “That’s only an option if you can take over.”
One tense moment came when Griffin and Serena’s puppy, a lumbering Great Dane named Rogue, galloped into the room. Mark had been in the midst of describing his houseboat when he broke off, startled by the dog’s sudden appearance.
Serena jumped up and grabbed him by the collar, then steered him out of the room. Still, it took a while for Mark to relax after that. He’d take a yellow stray cat over a dog any day.
At bedtime, he was given one of the newly renovated guest suites in the main lodge. Despite its brand-new pillow-top mattress and divinely comfortable bedding, he couldn’t get to sleep. He kept picturing two things—Gracie’s face when she came, and Gracie’s face when she…left.
Apparently, he was back to his old ways; easy come, easy go. No attachments, no heartbreak.
Forget it, asshole. There was no way he could shove his feelings for Gracie into a box like that. She’d wandered into his life and turned the whole damn thing upside down. He could either admit that or continue fighting the truth.
Finally, he gave up and shoved off his bedcovers. He padded barefoot down the quiet corridor toward Gracie’s room, pausing at every squeak in the floorboards.
This time her bedroom door was closed, so he could see it was painted with a sparkly silver ghost with a mermaid’s tail. He recognized her touch in the design. It was so…Gracie. Offbeat but beautiful and unique.
He tapped on the door, right over the ghost mermaid’s heart, which was covered by long, silvery hair. He heard soft footsteps, then the door opened a crack, and Gracie’s sleepy face appeared. Her eyes widened at the sight of him. He was just launching into a smile when she slammed the door shut in his face.
Not quietly, either. Just a hard, classic, get-off-my-porch door slam.
Okay, then. Wow, he’d really pissed her off. She didn’t even want him to apologize. She wanted nothing to do with him.
With a hollow pit in his stomach, he turned to go.
This was going to be one awkward road trip. Maybe he ought to go home instead. She didn’t really want him around. He’d probably wind up putting his foot in his mouth again.
No. He’d followed her to Rocky Peak for a reason, and that was to help her with Janus Kaminski. Anything else was just icing on the cake—and he’d just have to do without it.
He was halfway down the hall when he heard her soft “pssst.”
With an impatient gesture, she beckoned him back to her room. He hurried back, but before she let him in, she put a finger over her lips. No talking. He nodded to show he got the message, then she yanked him inside with a hand curled into the front of his t-shirt.
He stumbled through the door, already off-balance. She took him by the wrist and hauled him toward her bed. Was she…what was going…were they going to…?
The unpredictability was exhilarating. He felt his cock already going hard. But should they really do this, with all the unresolved stuff between them?
“Gracie.”
“Shh.”
“But—”
“If you say one more word, you can just go back to your room,” she hissed fiercely.
Why was everything with Gracie always so confusing? He couldn’t ever get a handle on her. Maybe that was why he couldn’t get her out of his mind, no matter how much he tried.
He gave in and spread his arms wide in a gesture of surrender. She pushed him onto the bed, then stripped off the little nightie she was wearing. Naked, her skin luminous in the dark, she stood before him, hands on her hips, like a general surveying her troops.
At least one of her troops was more than
ready for battle. His cock was throbbing like a drum. He pushed his sleep pants off his hips to let it spring free. She surveyed him almost clinically, not a trace of emotion on her face.
That was when he realized what she was up to. She was trying to separate all emotion from what they were about to do. He remembered her last words to him at the cabin. “Thanks for the sex. That was fun.”
She was trying to make this all about sex.
She held up a finger, telling him to wait, then sauntered to a low table next to her bed. He couldn’t take his eyes off her—she was moving provocatively, sensually, parading her nudity.
All about sex. That was fine, right? It was better than no sex.
But as he watched her open a drawer and pull out a condom, he decided that…no. It wasn’t okay. The hell if this was just about sex. He had a say in this, too.
She settled onto the bed on her knees, condom in one hand, the other trailing between her own legs. He got the message, crystal clear. Anyone can touch my clit and make me come. Even me. I don’t really need you. But since you’re here…
He wasn’t going to play the “this doesn’t matter” game. Because it did matter. If he couldn’t tell her so in words, he could show her without them.
Gracie squealed in surprise as Mark flipped her off her knees and onto her back. The sound broke the electric silence that had reigned since she’d dragged him into the room.
“What are you doing?”
He plucked the condom from her hands and ripped it open. With a quick motion, he rolled it onto his erection. “Pleasuring you,” he growled.
Planting his hands on her inner thighs, he spread her open. She was already wet, had been since she’d opened the door to him. The thought of his hands on her body had made her so weak in the knees, she’d leaned her forehead against the inside of her door and, banging it lightly, thought damn it, damn it, damn it.
She’d wanted him in her bed so badly that she’d tossed aside all her caution and called him back in.
But she’d pictured a very different scenario, one in which she was in complete control of the situation.
Instead, he was taking command with an ease that made her shudder with desire.
She should object. She should turn the tables. Flip the script. But it felt so freaking good. So she gave in and surrendered to his hard hands and skillful tongue. He kept her thighs pinned to the bed as he licked her, his tongue as rough as a hungry kitten’s. The relentless pleasure he generated made her writhe, but he didn’t give an inch.
I got you, that tongue seemed to say. Don’t fight it, just soak in the pleasure.
She was gasping and trembling on the edge of orgasm when he flipped her over onto her stomach. With her face buried in a pillow, all her other senses flashed into high alert. He gently sank his teeth into the soft flesh of her ass, then gave it a light swat. He soothed the marks with his tongue and lips, kissing and licking.
The outrageous sensation made her moan into the pillow.
Then his body came over hers, and one hand slipped under her chest to find a nipple. The other went straight to her sex. Nearly out of her mind, she pressed her mound into his hand. His clever fingers sorted through the folds of her sex and found the spot that cried out for contact.
She gasped as bright pleasure flashed through her.
He kept moving over her, rubbing his erection against her back, her thighs, her ass. She pushed back like a cat, offering herself eagerly, wanting nothing more than to be filled by that hard rod of flesh. Light danced behind her eyelids as she pictured him penetrating her, pinning her like a butterfly. Mouth dry with desire, she could practically feel his thick length sliding into her already.
She came once into his hand, a sharp, sudden orgasm that caught her by surprise. He cupped her tight, as if he could feel each spasm as it hit her. Out of her mind, she floated in a sea of infinite ecstasy, just her and Mark and Mark’s hands and his hot breath and his hard body against her.
She was still catching her breath, orienting herself back in the here and now—her bed, near dawn—when he dragged her ass into the air and spread her knees apart. He plunged into her, and her body closed around him like a fist. The orgasm was still fluttering in her lower belly, sending small aftershocks through her. With one hand, he reached around and claimed her sex again. That touch, and his deep thrusts, vaulted her orgasm to another level. Or maybe it was a new orgasm, she couldn’t really tell, and it didn’t really matter.
All that mattered was the fierce way he plunged into her, over and over, making her his, sending her soaring, arousing her to peaks she’d never glimpsed before.
And then he went rigid and uttered a long, guttural groan ringing with satisfaction. It was the best sound she’d ever heard. It meant that he’d come just as hard as she had.
It meant they were in this together.
Two people who thought they could control this thing between them—and who were both dead wrong.
21
The next morning, they said goodbye to her family and packed all their stuff into her Jetta, since it got better gas mileage than Mark’s truck. While everyone else exchanged hugs, Max hung back, looking grumpy, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t.
Gracie wasn’t quite ready to forgive him, but she didn’t want to leave with any hard feelings hanging over them. He had a heart condition, after all. What if something happened while she was gone?
So at the last minute, she darted over to him and dropped a kiss on his weathered cheek. “I’ll see you soon, Dad. No four-wheeling without a helmet.”
He grabbed her arm. “I don’t like this, not one bit,” he burst out. “Stay here, Gracie.”
A twinge of intuition told her there was more that he wasn’t saying. “What are you talking about, Dad?”
But he reverted to his usual grumbling. “Everyone’s always running off. Be careful.”
“Don’t worry about me. Just take care of yourself.”
His worried frown stayed in her mind long after she and Mark had driven down the winding road that led to town.
A quick stop to say goodbye to Jake, who was doing paperwork at the Last Chance before it opened, and then they were on their own.
Her and Mark. Together in a car. With two hot sessions of lovemaking in the rearview mirror.
Literally, sort of.
Mark must have been thinking about that, too, because the first thing he said when they passed the “Leaving Rocky Peak, Please Come Again” sign was, “Should we talk about—”
“No.” She downshifted to pass a slowpoke beer delivery truck. “No need. We did what we did, and now it’s done, and it’s time to move on. Where are we going, exactly?”
He’d told her to head north until they could go east, but nothing more.
“Idaho. We’ll take the Spokane route across the state. I’ll tell you more when we get closer.”
“Are you sure he’s still there?” She’d looked up Janus Kaminski on her phone and found a few articles about his artwork and several about the kidnapping. He’d pleaded not guilty by reason of insanity and been sentenced to therapy and supervision. She’d stared at his photo for a long time—a sandy beard covered much of his face, and he wore rectangular red-tinted glasses. No bells of recognition went off. Maybe she’d never really seen his face. After all, Mark had been the one taking care of her, not him.
“I have a friend keeping tabs on him for me.” Mark hesitated, watching the trees flip past the window. “Actually, my therapist does.”
“You have a therapist?” She glanced at him curiously. “You mentioned that before.”
“Yeah, is that weird?”
“Why would it be weird?”
“You know, manly guy like me. Mr. Macho Boat Guy,” he joked.
“That’s silly. I mean, if you need anyone to vouch for your masculinity, tell them to call me.” She sent him a saucy smile. “And besides, I’m glad you have a therapist. You went through a serious trauma.”
> “Yeah. We talk about a lot more than that, though. He’s a cool dude. He’s been working with me since I was six. Every time my parents tried to drop him, I got worse, so they bit the bullet and kept sending me. I only talk to him once a month now, but one of the things he does for me is keep tabs on Kaminski.”
Gracie swerved past a truck loaded with logs strapped to a flatbed. She thought about six-year-old Mark, whose experience had been so much more terrifying than hers. “Have you ever seen Kaminski since it happened?”
“Hell no.”
“Are you afraid of him?”
He hesitated, his hands flexing on his thighs. “I don’t know. He’s an old man now. He can’t hurt me without a weapon, and I could probably disarm him without breaking a sweat. It’s not that. I think I’m afraid of feeling the way I did then. Fucking helpless.”
“Mmm. You do kind of like being in control, don’t you?”
“Oh, so you do want to talk about last night.” He gave her a wicked grin. “Fun, wasn’t it?”
“You can’t change the subject from an evil kidnapper to sex. That’s just…a really weird segue.”
“I’m always happy to talk about sex. Kidnappers, not so much. Okay, so back to last night—I have a few questions.”
Sighing, she clicked on the cruise control, since they’d reached a relatively flat stretch of highway. “It’s usually impossible to pry a word out of you. Now you’re all talky?”
“Maybe you’re a good influence on me.” He grinned at her skeptical expression. “We did meet in a car, after all. We couldn’t converse much then, what with your poopy diaper and pre-verbal state. So why not now?”
Why not now? Because she’d bared her heart to him, and he’d laughed at her.
“Fine,” she finally said. “But I get to ask a few, too.”
“Fair’s fair. Okay, question one. Actually, it’s not a question, it’s just an apology. I’m sorry I acted like a jerk at the cabin. I know you’re not a kid. Obviously. I shouldn’t have laughed it off like that.”
“Apology accepted. It doesn’t matter now anyway.”