Wild Highway: Runaway Series - Book 2 Page 8

  “Amen.”

  The second the word echoed around the table, my hand was dropped like a hot coal.

  Liddy gave my other hand a light squeeze, then let me go to drape a napkin in her lap.

  I reached for my wine, sharing a look with Katherine across the table.

  She lifted her glass in a sign of solidarity.

  “So, Gemma.” Jake scooped a heap of mashed potatoes onto his plate as the rest of the food began the circle around the table. “Katherine told me you drove here from Boston. That’s quite a trip.”

  “Technically, I drove from West Virginia, but yes, it was a long trip. I have to say, the best part was through Montana. I’d forgotten how beautiful it was here.”

  “We sure are having a nice fall,” Liddy said, passing me a bowl of green beans. “How long are you planning to stay?”

  “Not long,” Easton answered, before he drained the last swallow of his beer.

  I shoved the bowl in his face. “Beans?”

  He wrenched the dish from my grasp, grumbling something under his breath that earned him a scowl from Carol on his other side.

  “How’d Rory do on the trail ride today?” JR asked Cash after the food had been passed around.

  “Good. He’s a quick learner and the guests like him.”

  “Maybe you should put him on the schedule,” JR told Easton.

  Beside me, his teeth ground together audibly. “I know how to delegate my staff. It was my idea to send him along with Cash in the first place.”

  The tension in the room grew thick. The plates and the food were of sudden interest as all eyes dropped except for Easton’s and JR’s.

  My plate was overloaded with mashed potatoes, roast beef, gravy, beans and a roll. It seemed like the perfect time to shove a huge bite into my mouth and occupy myself with chewing.

  Was something happening on the ranch? Were Easton and JR fighting? If I wasn’t sitting here, how would this conversation really have gone?

  “Jake, I was hoping you could help me for a couple of weeks.” Katherine was brave enough to break the silence. “I’ve got a project and need your expertise.”

  “I can probably do that.” He nodded, aiming his eyes to Easton. “That means you’ll need to handle the equipment and prepping the snowmobiles for winter.”

  “I know.” He sighed. “I’ve got it covered.”

  Why was I suddenly feeling bad for the guy who’d been a jackass to me this week? His shoulders were bunched and his back stiff. The frustration radiating off Easton’s body was palpable.

  Part of me wanted to put my hand on his forearm and give him a reassuring smile. The other part remembered . . . jackass. Besides, whatever this family dynamic was, it was not my business.

  “Gemma, we never did hear your answer to Mom’s question.” Cash sent his brother a smirk. “How long are you staying?”

  “I’m not sure exactly. Maybe for a few weeks. Katherine said something about an empty guest bedroom at your place.”

  Easton scoffed.

  I ignored him.

  But Carol wasn’t having it. “What is your problem tonight?”

  “She’s not staying, Grandma.”

  “That’s not really up to you, is it?” she snapped.

  Easton put down his fork. “I’m not saying she can’t stay. I’m just saying she won’t.”

  Really? Because to me, it sounded a lot like him telling me I couldn’t stay.

  “And why not?” Katherine asked.

  “She’s like the guests here, Kat. They love Montana for a week. But soon, she’ll be ready to get back to the city. Back to her manicures and massages and Starbucks. This isn’t the place for her.”

  “And who the hell are you to dictate the place for me?” I twisted in my chair, meeting his glare with one of my own.

  “I’m calling it like I see it.”

  “Well, you’re wrong.”

  “Yeah? You won’t last a month. Hell, you only made it a few days before you went running to Kat because you were bored.”

  I guess Katherine had told him the reason for my sudden employment. When I glanced her way, she mouthed, “Sorry.”

  “I like to be busy.”

  “Sure,” he deadpanned.

  I leaned in closer, sitting taller in my chair. “You truly are an asshole.”

  The table snickered around us but I kept my eyes locked on Easton’s.

  He leaned closer, his breath caressing my cheek as he taunted, “But am I wrong?”

  “Yes.”

  “Prove it.”

  “By staying? No problem. That was already my plan.”

  “Like I said. You won’t make it a month.”

  “I bet she makes it past Christmas.” JR chuckled. “Just to prove you wrong, son.”

  Easton gave his dad a scowl, then turned to the meal, shoveling a bite of potatoes in his mouth.

  “I think it will be wonderful to have you here through the holidays,” Liddy said.

  Wait. What? When had I agreed to stay for Christmas? That was over three months away.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think Katherine and Cash want me living with them for three months. I’d love to stay for a few weeks, but months? I, uh . . .”

  A slow, evil grin spread across Easton’s face as he chewed.

  Bastard.

  Katherine had offered me a guest room, but for three months? That wasn’t a guest. That was a roommate.

  “Gemma will stay at the cabin,” Carol announced.

  “Huh?” I was getting whiplash. “What cabin?”

  “The one Jake and I built when we first moved here. It’s a little old and outdated but it’s all yours.”

  Fantastic. Easton had all but dared me to stay, and now there were no excuses to why I couldn’t.

  “The cabin it is.” My cheery voice betrayed my terror.

  Easton’s smug grin dropped.

  Good.

  He’d baited me. He’d flustered me and now I was in Montana for three months because there was no way I was letting him win. Even if that meant crashing in an old cabin.

  I’d show him.

  Ugh.

  What the hell had I just gotten myself into?

  Chapter Seven

  Gemma

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Katherine asked.

  I shrugged and looked around the room. The place had running water and electricity, luxuries I didn’t take for granted. “It’s not that bad. I mean, it’s not my posh room at the lodge, but it’s a thousand times nicer than our tent at the junkyard.”

  “True.”

  “This will be great,” I promised. “It’s a nice cabin.”

  “If you change your mind, you’re always welcome to our guest room.”

  “Thanks.” I’d been living alone for a long time and actually preferred having this older cabin to myself than sharing someone’s space.

  The last roommate I’d had was Katherine. We’d stayed together in the tent, then here when we’d been in the staff quarters.

  Whenever the two of us had been bored, we’d practiced our poker skills. Karson had taught us in the junkyard. We never had money to bet, but we’d play and practice with toothpicks.

  “Do you still remember how to play poker?” I asked, setting down my suitcase in the middle of the cabin’s living room.

  “Absolutely.” Katherine walked over to the kitchen, running a finger through the dust on the countertop. “About a year after you left, Cash was home for spring break or something and he came over to the staff quarters. Some of the guys were having a poker tournament. I asked if I could play too. They all teased me that they didn’t have time to teach a girl how to play.”

  “Did you win?”

  “Hell, yes, I won.” She laughed. “Every once in a while, Cash and I go into town to play at the bar. They have games on Friday and Saturday nights. You should come with us next time.”

  “Maybe.” Though I hadn’t played in years. “So what’s t
he story with you and Cash?”

  “No story.” She shook her head. “We’re roommates. Coworkers. Friends.”

  Lies. She was in love with him. And Cash was oblivious.

  But I wasn’t one to lecture on matters of men. I was staying in an old cabin that needed a deep clean because I’d let a man bait me into a foolish challenge two days ago.

  Thankfully, Londyn didn’t care how long it took me to get to California. I’d called her after the family dinner and told her everything. Once she’d finished laughing her ass off, she’d told me I had no choice but to show Easton up.

  So here I was, in a Montana cabin for the next three months.

  “It’s a good thing we raided a cleaning cart.” Katherine opened the refrigerator and cringed at the smell, shutting it quickly. “No one would think less of you if you said screw this and left.”

  “Easton would.”

  “Does his opinion really matter?”

  Yes. “No, but I like it here. So why not shut him up?”

  “If you’re sure.”

  I nodded. “I’m sure.”

  The truth was, I’d contemplated leaving. After the dinner, I’d thought about getting in the Cadillac and abandoning this ridiculous notion. I’d considered it a lot in the past forty-eight hours. It was Sunday and if I left tomorrow morning, I’d be in sunny California before the end of the week.

  But I wasn’t ready to go.

  Besides the benefit of proving Easton wrong, I was enjoying my time here. Katherine and I were bonding. The Greer family was incredibly welcoming and my simple job at the front desk was refreshing.

  Every time I heard Easton’s voice in the back of my mind, telling me I didn’t belong, I shut it up by finding something about this situation that appealed.

  This cabin was one. It was two miles from the lodge, nestled in a clearing of evergreens. There wasn’t a sprawling mountain view or an on-call masseuse. But it was my own space, peaceful and secluded. I had room to think. To start deciding what I would do with my life once these three months were over and my trip to California was complete.

  Because at the moment, I didn’t have a damn clue. I needed this time to reflect. To plan.

  Besides, I could survive anything for three months.

  And I’d lived in far, far worse places.

  “What’s your plan for today?” Katherine asked.

  “Clean.”

  “Want some help?”

  “Nah. I don’t mind. You go and enjoy your day off.”

  “Day off?” She gave me a quizzical look. “What’s that? I’m going to the office to catch up on emails. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I can squeeze in a ride this afternoon. Want to join me?”

  “Maybe. Shoot me a text.”

  “Okay.” She took another look around the open room and her eyes widened. “Good luck.”

  I laughed and walked her outside, leaning on one of the porch’s log posts as she got into her truck parked beside the Cadillac. “Bye.”

  She waved. “Bye.”

  As her truck disappeared around the curve in the road, I took a long breath of the clean, mountain air, then made my way inside the cabin.

  The smell was musty. Dust floated everywhere, catching the glint of sunlight attempting to stream through the filmy windows. Carol had offered to clean the cabin because no one had stayed here in over three years—she’d come out to tidy up and check for mice a few times each year but otherwise the place had been empty—but I’d declined her offer, insisting on doing the work myself.

  In a way, cleaning would make it my own.

  I whipped off my sweater, folding it and setting it on my suitcase, then I got to work.

  The bulk of the cabin was one large room. The living area was no more than a rawhide couch, a matching chair and a coffee table. Opposite it was a two-seat table and a small kitchen. The rear half of the cabin had the single bedroom. It was cramped with a queen-sized bed and a set of dresser drawers. The adjoining bathroom was designed for function with only a standing shower crammed beside the sink and toilet. The square laundry room by the back door doubled as the pantry and storage room.

  I tackled the bedroom first, wanting to get my things put away. There was a canvas tarp over the bed to keep it from getting dusty, but I still stripped the quilt and sheets and tossed them into the washing machine. Then I dusted every surface and wiped out the dresser’s drawers before sweeping and mopping.

  Sweat beaded on my brow after I was done with the kitchen, having washed all the dishes, then scrubbed the floor on my hands and knees.

  Even with the lack of care, it didn’t take me long to make my way through the cabin, because it was just that small.

  I opened the door to let in the fresh air and did the same to the windows once they were clean. The smile on my face felt earned. Carefree. I’d worked my ass off since the day I’d run away from home at sixteen, first to simply stay alive, then to make something of myself. Accomplishment gave me satisfaction.

  Or at least, it had. The past year in Boston had lacked fulfillment.

  What I’d needed was a hard day of cleaning where I could see my work unfold before my eyes.

  Three months here? Piece of cake.

  I was one laundry room away from a sparkling cabin when I heard a truck approach. My mood tanked when I saw its driver.

  “What is he doing here,” I muttered from the cabin’s porch.

  Easton parked beside the Cadillac and hopped out, not sparing me a glance as he walked to the back and hefted out a huge cooler. “Where do you want this?”

  “Uh, what is it?”

  “Food. Mom didn’t want you running to the store, so she spent yesterday in the kitchen.”

  Liddy had cooked.

  For me.

  My own mother hadn’t cooked for me. But his had. My heart squeezed as he walked up the porch stairs carrying the cooler.

  Easton scanned me from head to toe, and like always, he frowned.

  I glanced down at my jeans and the gray tank top I’d had underneath my sweater. “What?”

  “Nothing.” He brushed past me and stomped inside.

  “Take off your boots. I just cleaned.” I bit the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing as he spun around and gaped. “Kidding.”

  Easton didn’t find me funny.

  I followed him to the kitchen, leaving the front door open, as he set the cooler beside the fridge. He bent and flipped open the lid to start unloading, but I waved him away. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “’Kay.” He stood and walked outside.

  “Goodbye,” I called after him, then turned my attention to the cooler. “Nice to see you too. And thanks. I did do a great job cleaning. How kind of you to notice.”

  “Talking to yourself?”

  I jumped at Easton’s voice. “I thought you left.”

  He hefted a tote in the air. “Wine. From my grandma.”

  “Carol gets me.” I stood and took the tote from him, setting it on the counter. Then I waited, assuming he’d actually leave this time unless there were more gifts in his truck.

  But he didn’t leave. Easton walked into the living room and ran a hand through that thick, soft hair as he glanced around. He’d traded his normal, long-sleeved plaid shirt for a fitted thermal. The textured cotton stretched across his biceps, showcasing the strength of his arms. It molded to his torso and that flat stomach.

  If he’d just smile, a little, he’d be so incredibly handsome. Gruff and stoic worked for Easton. The man was a challenge and an enigma. His serious composure gave nothing away and that was a turn-on for a woman like me who enjoyed the uphill battle.

  I’d learned in my week here that he didn’t have a wife or girlfriend, but I had no doubt the local ladies swooned over his rugged, somber exterior. But a smile . . . damn, I wanted to see a smile.

  I’d seen it once—eleven years ago when he’d taken me to his bed, and I hadn’t forgotten it in all this time.

  Easton’s smile was unmatc
hed. It was rare. Maybe the reason it was so special was because he gave it to so few people.

  “Looks good in here.”

  My hand flew to my heart and I feigned surprise. “Was that . . . a compliment? Did you actually say something nice to me?”

  His lips pursed into a thin line.

  “Oh, relax.” I turned to the cupboards and opened the one where I’d found glasses earlier. “Would you like to stay for a glass of wine? Or has five minutes in my presence irritated you enough to leave me alone for a week?”

  “I don’t drink wine.”

  “Of course, you don’t.” It probably went against the cowboy code to drink anything but milk, water, black coffee, beer and whiskey neat.

  “But I’ll take a glass of water.”

  Seriously? I’d been joking in the invite. Why would he take it? What was he up to? I didn’t ask as I filled his glass from the tap, but I kept an eye on him as I uncorked a bottle of Cabernet. I’d thank Carol later for including the opener in my tote bag.

  “Here you go.” I handed him his water as I joined him in the living room.

  Easton took it and sat on the couch, tossing one long arm over the back. Then he lifted an ankle, crossing it over a knee.

  “What do you want?” I sat in the chair and cut right to the chase. Easton wasn’t here to be friendly.

  “You. Gone.”

  “You’ll get your wish in three months.”

  He studied me, his gaze full of scrutiny.

  “What? No reminders that I won’t make it?” I asked.

  “No. You know how I feel.”

  “Yes, you’ve made it crystal clear. So I’d say we’re at a stalemate.”

  “Guess so.” He drained his water with three long gulps. The bob of his Adam’s apple was mesmerizing.

  I expected him to leave with the glass empty, but once again, he stayed seated, settling deeper into the couch. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

  “No.” He looked around the room, his eyes taking it all in. “When Cash and I were little, Dad would take us camping here. Boys only. We’d go fishing at the creek. He’d build a fire and we’d have a cookout outside. I haven’t been inside in ages. Every time I come back, it seems smaller.”