Page 42 of The Fixer and the Fugitive

A few seconds later they were peeling away. Fletcher remained in their rearview mirror, smiling and waving cheerfully as they disappeared.

Chapter 21

“All right, let’s hear it,” Celeste demanded when they were a safe distance from Paradise. Sam had been unusually silent, so she knew he was thinking about it and trying to find the right words.

He took a deep breath. “First of all, you were right. Everyone in the entire town seems to have some sort of mental defect or quirk that makes them seem like an experiment gone wrong. It’s a pharmaceutical goldmine, an entire untapped market for mass Quaaludes and Prozac.” Before she could muster a smile of triumph, he continued. “And I love them. I mean, seriously and insanely love them. I want to alternately adopt, be adopted by, and/or marry all of them.” He faced her, clutching his hands together. “I want to live here forever and always. Please may I?”

“What?” she said, half laughing, certain he must be joking.

“I’m serious. Iloveit. They’re all so quirky and fun. You would never be bored here, ever. And I bet we’ve only scratched the surface of insanity. Think how much more is left undiscovered.” He threw his hands wide, forcing her to duck out of the way or risk being clocked in the jaw.

“What would you do for a job? You know nothing about cattle ranching, and from what I can tell there isn’t much else,” she said.

“Spoiler alert: thanks to some fairly shady accounting on the part of my uncles, I don’t ever have to do actual work again, if I don’t want,” he said.

“But don’t you want? You’re so young. You could do anything,” Celeste said.

He shrugged. “Maybe. I’m sure I’ll figure it out eventually.”

She faced forward, staring hard at the horizon. “I definitely see how you fit here, but not me,” she said.

“I’m going to choose to take that as a compliment. Also, you definitely fit. You just don’t see it,” he said.

“How do I fit? I am neither quirky nor fun.”

He jutted an accusing finger at her. “You are quirky and fun and adorable. Paradise becomes you, admit it.”

Instead she rubbed two fingers against her temple. “Great, it’s catching. You seem to have caught whatever they have.”

“A zest for life,” he suggested.

“A delusional separation from normal society. Was there oxygen when you were trapped in that border-crossing box?”

“Based on the depth and soundness of my sleep, probably no. But I am telling you, this is a great town. The perfect place to have an orchard and start a family.”

Celeste’s heart began to beat hard because now they were moving from the theoretical to the possible and she didn’t like it. “The orchard is dead and so is my desire to ever procreate.”

“Were you quoting Elizabeth Barrett Browning, or did you make that up?” he rested his head on the seat behind him, studying her. They pulled up in front of her house and she shut off the car, leaving her hand on the ignition. “You planning to ditch me and take off again?”

“I’m thinking about it,” she said.

“Hey.” He reached over and touched her hand, pulling it off the ignition and holding it in his hand while he petted it gently like a gerbil. “Are you okay, for real? That guy grabbed you pretty hard.”

She let out a breath, relieved to be talking about something she could actually wrap her mind around. “Believe it or not, that wasn’t my first time being manhandled. And I’m fine, thank you for asking.”

His free hand reached out and smoothed the hair at her temple, an oddly soothing and affectionate gesture. “It must be hard to be little and pretty and vulnerable when men like that exist in the world, ready to prey on you.”

Her face had a mind of its own, leaning into his touch without her permission. “I’ve built up some pretty thick walls. I’m no one’s idea of easy prey,” she said.

“But you shouldn’t have to have walls. You should get to be soft and vulnerable and protected.”

His words smarted because she had never, ever been any of those things, not as far back as she could remember, not for a moment. She’d always had to be tough, to be hard, to take care of herself. Suddenly her eyes stung and she was mortified, afraid she might break down and cry in front of this man who had no idea the horrors of her past, nor would he ever, not if she had her way. He somehow saw her as better than she was, a first. No way would she disillusion him.

He leaned across the console and kissed the spot high on each cheek, directly under each eye. Celeste sucked a shaky breath and then, before she could open the eyes he’d kissed closed, he kissed her lips, a soft and gentle brush of affection.

“What was that?” she asked, backing away from him when the kiss was over.

“I just think we should,” he whispered. If he had looked any less befuddled and shocked than she felt, she would have pushed him away. Instead she decided to give in and go with it.

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