Page 2 of Runaway
But maybe the sound of my voiceandthe name Marie would get him thinking.
In a perfect world, I'd get through this confrontation without him knowing me. Mark tried to hide it, but he ended every call frustrated. Didn't like when I curbed his wild ideas with sound financial sense. If there was one thing Mark felt like he didn't have, it was time. He was in a hurry for everything even though he was what, thirty-one? Two years older than me.
Money didn't always run at the same speed as Mark, and that galled him to no end.
“My name is Stella Marie,” I finally said.
You are Stella Marie,grandma Marie always insisted.Not just Stella. Be proud of your heritage.
His gaze tapered further.
I swallowed a squeak of fear and the desire to ask if I could come inside. No, of course I shouldn't ask that. I wouldn't let me inside if I were him. He hadn't let go of the door, giving me unparalleled access to his abs. By sheer willpower, I kept my gaze on his face.
“What are you doing here, Stella Marie?”
“I need some help. I heard you might have a cabin to rent.”
Confusion clouded his annoyance. “Who told you that?”
No one,I thought.Just the hope deep in my heart and what I know of your world.
“Oh, just driving through town.” I waved an airy hand in the vague direction that I thoughtPineville would be. “I need a place to stay and I'm willing to pay cash. Maybe just for a month or so?”
His brow furrowed.
Please,I thought.Please don't care about these details. You never have before . . .
“Who in town told you to come here?”
Dagnabbit. Of course he had to ask questions nowof all times. The conversation we'd had a few days ago when he said he wanted to start a ride-a-horse operation ran through my mind. He hadn't asked how much it cost to keep a horse alive or pay vet bills or bring hay into his canyon or any of that.
No, he just found a horse he thought was handsome and wanted to try it out.
Thankfully, I'd backed him out of the idea. He hadn't been happy at the time.Nowhe had to know who sent money his way? Mark needed money as desperately as I needed to disappear. Why didn't he take the offer?
Perhaps he'd be deterred away from howI came to know him and focus on the dollars.
“$500 a month for a small cabin? I can pay in advance if you want the cash now.”
The money burned a hole in the back pocket of my jeans, but I didn't reach for it yet. He leaned against the doorframe instead, unbothered by the misty fall air that flowed past him into the cabin. No one else had stirred inside, and I caught a vague peek of furniture and a can of something pried open with a spoon sticking out of it.
Bachelor, for sure.
“Why do you need a place to stay?” he asked.
“Does that matter?”
His brow lifted. “It does now.”
My nostrils flared. I wasn't good at this. Lying, deceptions, sneakiness. I just wanted to find a place where I could hole up and not see anyone for a while. Maybe I'd been naive to think this would be easy. To show up on his doorstep and ask if I could live with him? The man lived in the middle of a mountain canyon. No onedrove out here unless they had to, which was why I wanted to stay. Why I'd driven all the way across the country on a desperate prayer and a crappy car not yet registered to my name.
My breath was shaky when I let it out. “I just . . . I need someplace to disappear for a while, and I've heard that you have cabins to rent and no one comes out here.”
He snorted. “You're hiding.”
Yes,I thought.
I didn't answer him, just studied his face. Beneath all that beard and wild hair, I sensed a general kindness about his eyes. The same kindness that I heard in his voice on the phone when he wasn't rattling off plans. His gaze had an edge to it, however.
