Wild Highway: Runaway Series - Book 2 Read online

  For the moment, I wasn’t ready to process the heartache of leaving Easton Greer. Of knowing he’d eventually find a better replacement. So I wouldn’t think about Easton, not today. I’d save that for my road trip.

  “How are things in Montana?” Benjamin asked.

  “Coming to an end. I’m leaving today.”

  “O-oh. Really? I thought you were staying until Christmas.”

  “Change of plan.” My stomach twisted. It had been in a constant knotted state since Easton had left last night.

  I’d done my best to fight back tears, mostly by throwing myself into packing. Then I’d cleaned the cabin, tongue-and-groove ceiling to hardwood floor. Finally, I’d fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion—emotional and physical—and had woken up with the sunshine streaming through the cabin’s bedroom window.

  It hadn’t taken me long to load up the Cadillac, though there was more in the trunk now than when I’d started this journey. I had the winter coat Easton had insisted upon along with the boots I’d used on our working Saturdays. And I had the plaid shirt he’d left behind last night, tucked safely inside my purse.

  All that remained was to finish this call, stop by and say goodbye to Katherine, then get on the highway.

  “Would you mind booking me a hotel room?” I asked.

  “When and where?”

  “I’ll find some motel along the road tonight, but I was hoping to get to San Francisco tomorrow and stay there for a few days.” I needed to build up some mental walls before venturing to Temecula. I wasn’t sure if I had the strength to stop by and visit my mother, but it was something I’d been considering.

  “The usual amenities?” he asked, the sound of computer keys clicking in the background. He’d probably already pulled up a travel website.

  “Please.” Benjamin knew I’d prefer a boutique hotel with a spa and five-star menu.

  “Done. I’ll email you the details. Anything else?”

  “No, thank you. I’ll check in later. Have a good week.”

  “Gemma, wait. Before you hang up.”

  My heart stopped. Please, please don’t quit. I couldn’t handle it right now. I couldn’t deal with leaving the Greer Ranch and having Benjamin leave me all in the same day. “Yeah?”

  “Are you okay?” There was genuine concern in his voice, probably because mine sounded flat and lifeless.

  “Sure. I’m great.”

  There was a long pause on the other end of the line. No doubt he was debating whether or not it would be smart to call his boss on a blatant lie. Thankfully, he let it go. “Would you like company in San Francisco?”

  “Who? You?”

  “Yes, me. I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too.” My eyes flooded.

  As much as I would like to see a familiar face, my days in San Francisco would be miserable. I had a broken heart to mend. It would be better to see Benjamin when the two of us could laugh and talk without a cloud of sorrow hanging over my head.

  “How about we meet up after I deliver this Cadillac? We can spend a week or two somewhere tropical. Bring Taylor and the three of us will spend a small fortune gorging ourselves on food between spa appointments. You two can pick where we go.”

  He chuckled. “Taylor is going to want Bali.”

  Escaping to the opposite end of the world with Benjamin and his spouse seemed like a good idea at the moment. “Bali it is.”

  “Keep in touch, please. I don’t like the idea of you driving alone.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I assured him. “Talk soon.”

  “Bye.”

  With the call over, I tucked my phone into my purse and slung it over my shoulder. Then I stood from the couch in the living room and took one last look at the cabin.

  My temporary home.

  It had always felt temporary. That had to mean something, right? That I’d never wanted to live here forever? I liked the cabin. It was cozy and warm. But it wasn’t home.

  This place wasn’t home.

  So I drew in another breath, savoring one last inhale of the fire I’d built this morning that had nearly burned out. Then I walked to the door, twisted the lock on the handle before closing it behind me and got in the car.

  I wouldn’t let myself look in my mirror as I drove away.

  It was simply another fleeting stop.

  And like I’d done before, it was time to search for the next.

  * * *

  “Stay another week,” Katherine pleaded. “Or two.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Please? I already have your Christmas present. Just stay until then.”

  She wasn’t making this easy on me. Our friendship had bloomed in my time here and I’d miss her terribly. I dearly hoped our relationship wouldn’t end.

  “I’m going to miss you.” I pulled her into a hug and squeezed tight.

  We were standing in the middle of her office. I’d found her behind her desk, as always, working with a smile on her face.

  I envied that and so much else. But I was so happy for her. I was glad she’d found her place.

  “Call me,” I said. “And I’ll call you. I don’t want to lose you again.”

  “You won’t.” Her arms cinched tighter. “What happened, Gemma? Why are you leaving? You seemed happy.”

  I was happy.

  But I wasn’t going to mix up Easton’s life. Especially if he wasn’t going to ask me to stay.

  Last night, I’d felt sixteen again. When I’d left my mother’s home, she’d been there. Watching. She’d sat on the living room couch and watched me walk out the door without a word.

  I’d cried for ten blocks knowing she wouldn’t chase after me.

  That pain had been nothing compared to Easton’s declaration he wouldn’t beg me to stay.

  But I wasn’t thinking about that. Not now.

  My priority was to get on the road and drive.

  One of these days, maybe I wouldn’t feel so lost. Maybe one day I’d set foot into the place where I was meant to be and know, in my bones, it was mine. Maybe I’d finally quiet the unsettled energy that zipped through my veins.

  “I have to go.” I let Katherine go and blinked away the threat of tears. “You have my number.”

  She nodded, swiping at her own eyes. “Are you going to come back?”

  “Someday.” Maybe.

  But only when I could handle the notion of seeing Easton again.

  Until then, I was planning on inviting Katherine along on Benjamin’s trip to Bali. I’d whisk her away until I had the courage to return. Until I was strong enough to face Easton, knowing that when I left here today, he’d never forgive me.

  “Take care of yourself.”

  She gave me a sad smile. “Same to you.”

  I turned away and hurried from her office before she could see my unshed tears. Then I made my way outside to the Cadillac parked in front of the lodge.

  I’d tried to find Carol and Liddy earlier, but they’d gone into Missoula for Black Friday shopping, so I’d left them a note. They’d probably hate me for that note, but it was better than hanging around.

  The Cadillac was warm when I slid inside, the seats soaking up the early morning sun. I cranked the heat anyway as I started the engine, feeling a cold so deep that I doubted I’d be warm for a hundred miles.

  Goddamn it. Why? I wasn’t even sure what why I was asking. Why was I like this? Why was life so hard? Why didn’t he love me? Just . . . why?

  My chin quivered and I sucked in a few short breaths, but it was no use. The tears flooded and the world became a glassy blur as I cried into the steering wheel.

  What was wrong with me? Why was I leaving?

  Because I’m terrified.

  The answer came immediately. This time in Montana had woken me up. I was feeling again. I was living. I’d fallen in love.

  And I was scared that it would all fall to shit.

  If I decided to stay and everything here broke, it would destroy me.


  Self-preservation was kicking in, and foolish or not, habits were hard to break. I’d been taking care of myself—depending on myself, protecting myself—for a long, long time.

  I wiped my face dry—taking the makeup I’d put on this morning away with the tears—then I took a deep breath, sat up straight and put the Cadillac in reverse.

  The road was covered with last night’s dusting of snow. There was only one set of tracks to mark the path, probably from Carol and Liddy. Before I could stop myself, I glanced in the rearview mirror, seeing the lodge grow smaller in the distance. Then I rounded a turn and it disappeared behind a towering wall of evergreens.

  My hand came to my chest, rubbing my sternum to try and erase the sting.

  I pushed the Cadillac faster. Snowy roads or not, it was time to rip off the bandage and get the hell off Greer property.

  A billow of snow rose up behind me as I picked up speed and ahead, the highway came into view. The pressure in my chest was nearly crippling, but I breathed through it with both hands locked on the wheel.

  Then a black streak caught my eye.

  I blinked, once, then twice, and tried to make sense of what I was seeing.

  There was a man on a horse, racing along the barbed wire fence that bordered the highway. He was flying.

  I gasped, a hand flying to my mouth as my foot lifted off the gas pedal.

  Jigsaw was running flat-out, his legs stretching in front of him as he galloped. And on his back, Easton rode with a fluid grace that was so stunningly beautiful, I barely noticed that I’d brought the Cadillac to a full stop.

  Easton turned Jigsaw as he neared the road but didn’t ease off the pace. He didn’t slow until he was close enough for me to see his flushed cheeks, his panted breaths, and that he wasn’t wearing a coat.

  He leapt off Jigsaw, the animal breathing as hard as his owner, and while the horse stood by waiting, Easton strode to the Cadillac and ripped open the door.

  His face was a storm. His eyes blazing.

  He was livid. Fantastic.

  The reason he’d run me down was probably because I’d stolen his shirt.

  Easton jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Out.”

  Okay, not livid. Murderous.

  I eased out of the car, watching as he fisted his hands on his hips and hauled in a few deep breaths.

  Easton ripped the cowboy hat off his head and tossed it on the ground. There was sweat at his temples and the temperature was below zero.

  “Where’s your coat?”

  That question earned me an icy glare. “I saw you in the parking lot. Crying.”

  “Oh.” I should have traveled farther to hide my tears. “So?”

  He raked a hand through his hair. “I’ve been waiting over a month for you to figure it out. And you still haven’t.”

  “Figure what out?” That he didn’t want me enough to ask me to stay?

  He took a step closer and I had the perfect view of his ticking jaw. “Where do you fit, Gemma?”

  “Why are you doing this?” Was he trying to hurt me? How could he ask me that question when he knew I didn’t have the answer?

  “Where do you fit?” he repeated.

  Nowhere. I clamped my mouth shut and lifted my chin. Hadn’t we done enough of this last night? Did he really need to pick a fight when I was seconds away from leaving him to his life?

  Easton stepped forward, closing the distance between us and lifting a hand to my cheek. Then his voice dropped to barely a whisper. “Where do you fit, Gemma?”

  The gentleness of his touch melted away my anger. “I don’t know.”

  “Guess.”

  I shrugged. “On the ranch?”

  Easton shook his head and damn him, it shattered my heart.

  I tried to step away but he had me pinned. “East—”

  “With. Me.” He dropped his forehead to mine. “You fit right here with me.”

  A sob escaped, followed by another, and as the tears streamed down my face, he pulled me into his arms. “I don’t want to leave.”

  “Then come home. Please.”

  “I thought you weren’t going to beg me to stay.”

  “Let me rephrase. Come. Home. That’s not me begging. That’s me giving orders.”

  I laughed and cried, burrowing into his shirt as he held me tight.

  “I don’t want you to go, Gem. Stay.”

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  The tension in his frame vanished and he loosened his hold enough to catch my lips.

  He licked at the seam and kissed me slow and soft. It was maybe the sweetest gesture he’d shown but my mind was whirling, and it was hard to concentrate on the taste of his tongue and the heat of his breath.

  How was this happening? Had he really raced up to me on his horse—his freaking horse—and now I was kissing him? This was one of those moments I’d replay in my head for years to come and still not believe it had been real.

  When he pulled away from my lips, I studied his face, trying to make sense of it all. “Why? What made you change your mind and come after me?”

  “I was in the stables, pissed at you. I wasn’t supposed to be there but my truck got a flat this morning and instead of calling for help, I hiked back.”

  “Because you were pissed at me,” I muttered.

  “Yep. Well, I’d just walked in and happened to look over. There you were. Crying and . . .” His eyes melted into dark chocolate pools. “Breaks me to see you cry.”

  So he’d ridden after me.

  He must have come straight from the stables toward the highway, because as the crow flies, it was the fastest way off the ranch. Lucky for me, the road curved and wound its way, otherwise, I would have missed him.

  “I don’t want to trap you here,” he said. “That’s why I didn’t ask. That’s why I said what I said last night. You went through enough. After you told me about your mother, I thought on it and I just . . . I don’t ever want you to live somewhere you don’t want to be.”

  That was why he’d gotten strange after my confession? Not because of what I’d told him, but because he’d been worried for me.

  He’d been willing to let me go because he’d wanted me to be happy.

  “I love you,” I blurted.

  “I love you.” He grinned. “I fucking love you, woman. I’m going to marry you. I’m going to have babies with you. I’m going to fight with you. I’m going to kiss you every morning. And show you every day that this is exactly where you belong.”

  I wanted it. Every word. Every promise. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Did I ask?”

  I laughed and stood on my toes to brush a kiss to his lips. “Let’s pretend you did and that I said yes.”

  Easton’s smile stretched across his face. It was the most honest, real smile I’d seen from this man and instantly made me smile back. He only let me appreciate that smile for a second, then his lips were on mine again and there was nothing sweet about our kiss. It was consuming. Branding. Claiming.

  I was his. I belonged with him.

  The chaos I’d felt for, well . . . forever, seemed to simply uncoil.

  Easton kissed me until we were both breathless, then he let me go and jerked his chin to the Cadillac. “Now get back in the car before you freeze. I need to get Jigsaw to the stables, then I’ll meet you at the house.”

  “Okay.” I nodded, hesitant to let him go, but I didn’t want him outside either.

  “Here.” He held up a finger as his other hand dove into his jeans pocket, pulling out his keys. On a leather strap were four keys and a black fob. He twisted off the only brass key and pressed it into my hand. “That’s yours.”

  I stared at it in my palm and the lump in my throat came back.

  He’d given me the key to his home.

  Most people wouldn’t be stunned speechless by a key. But I wasn’t most people.

  Whenever I’d needed a home, I’d gone out and found or built or bought one mys
elf.

  And Easton had just given me his.

  He kissed my forehead and clicked his tongue to Jigsaw, who hadn’t so much as moved from the spot where he’d been left. With a fast swing up, Easton was in the saddle and loping down the road, not wasting any time as he made his way to the stables.

  I climbed back in my car, Easton’s key clutched in my hand, and drove toward his house.

  A smile tugged at my cheeks as I pulled into the space in his driveway, parking in front of the garage. Londyn was going to love this. So was Katherine. So was Benjamin, though I was still going to send him and Taylor to Bali.

  I decided to leave my suitcase in the trunk—Easton would haul it in later—and walked up the steps to the porch and to the front entrance, slipping my key inside the lock. I held my breath as I turned the bronze knob, not sure what to expect on the other side of the hickory door. But when I stepped across the threshold, my jaw dropped.

  Easton’s home was picture perfect. The open floor plan gave me a view of the wide, expansive kitchen. It flowed seamlessly from the dining area to the living room, filled with leather furniture and walnut pieces. The bay windows in the front of the house were as impressive as those showcasing the view behind the house.

  The style was rustic and woodsy, very Easton, yet not overly manly. It was warm and inviting. It was exactly what I would have designed for a home at the base of a mountain.

  I took another step inside, closing the door behind me. If Easton had wanted to give me the tour, he’d have to live with the disappointment. The guest bedrooms on the main floor were down a hallway off the living room along with a sparsely decorated office. I peeked into the pantry along with both the mud and laundry rooms.

  When I walked down the hallway leading to the back of the house, Easton’s scent greeted me before I stepped into the enormous, master suite.

  His bed was unmade. The charcoal sheets were rumpled and the suede quilt strewn on the floor. Every night he’d spent at the cabin, he’d slept like a rock, barely moving. Which meant last night, he’d probably tossed and turned.

  I walked deeper into the bedroom, not bothering with the light. He’d vaulted the ceiling in the bedroom and the back wall was made almost entirely of glass. Sunbeams streamed inside, lighting the room and warming my face.