Page 50 of Stolen Goods
For the first time in her life, Addy’s mind was blank. There were no dreams weaving or visions spinning. This, right now, was better than anything her mind could’ve imagined. She and Thad stood side by side with interlaced pinky fingers. They stared at the endless valleys and peaks, the endless gradations in color, the endless stretch, and just were. Two people at the edge of the world.
“Should we move on to the next lookout?” Thad’s voice pulled her back to those two feet planted firmly on solid ground. “It’s getting a little crowded.”
The wary lilt to his voice caught her attention more than his words. It was the only reason she reluctantly pulled her gaze away to study him. Thad wasn’t looking at the view. He turned his head to subtly stare at the group of people walking toward them, freshly disembarking from a tour bus. The muscles along the side of his jaw clenched. His biceps felt rigid against the side of her arm. She realized, in that moment, exactly how much of a sacrifice he’d made in bringing her here, in making this seemingly simple wish come true.
How had she never considered the risk?
For three days, it had been just the two of them in a car. Stops for gas were short and tense. Meals were drive-thru, never sit down. Addy had grown used to the quiet.
But the Grand Canyon was loud.
Not in the literal sense. Sounds were swallowed up by the massive expanse, lost to the wind and the deep ravines and the vast, open sky. And that was all she’d been thinking about the entire way here. She’d forgotten entirely about the people, the many tourists like them flocking to see the view. The many watchful eyes. Of course, they were watching the canyons—but it would only take one, one in a hundred, one in a thousand, to recognize Thad, or her, and everything would be over.
He must have known. That was why he’d donned a disguise. Why he’d made her lie down while they drove through the main welcome area. Why he’d been contemplative most of the way here. A seasoned vet would’ve thought of all this before arriving. But to Addy, the sudden shot of nerves was real.
“Yeah, let’s get back to the car.”
She spun on her heels, ticking her head back and forth, fighting the sense that there were eyes on her back, a creepy-crawling feeling that scratched at her spine.
“Relax,” Thad leaned down and whispered. He snaked their arms together, interweaving their fingers, then squeezed. “Just enjoy yourself. I’ll worry about the rest.”
As they drove to six more lookouts, she tried to simply have fun. Though she trusted him to keep them safe, it was hard. Every time he decided to stay behind in the car or told her to ignore him or left the viewing area early, the fear pricked, reminding her this wasn’t just a road trip and they weren’t just two people. They were fugitives. Well, at least one of them was. And right now, the whole country was looking for them.
“Are you coming?” Addy asked, biting back her words the second she saw the mass of people standing at the rim of the crater, straining for a spot to see.
“I’ll wait in the car,” Thad said, no sign of displeasure in his voice, only support. “You go. Must be a good spot.”
Addy exited with a sigh.
I’m such an idiot.This whole time, she’d still been stuck in a dream. Pretending. Always pretending. And yet, she wasn’t ready for it to be over—whatever it was. Especially not like this, worried and hyperaware and so far from Thad.
She glanced over her shoulder.
He waved encouragingly from the car, shooing her onward.
No. This wasn’t how I imagined it at all.She stepped up to the rail, bumping shoulders with someone next to her. Maybe it was the fresh air blowing into her face or the enormous natural wonder stretched out before her, making her feel small, but a sudden clarity filled her mind.I can fix it.
She blinked, gripping the metal, missing the feel of Thad’s pinky finger entwined with hers, a gesture so small, yet powerful enough to fill her with yearning.
I can fix this.
The idea was simple.
Have a problem? Do something to change it.
But self-sufficiency had never been Addy’s strong suit. Her motto was more, have a problem? Wait for someone to come by who might solve it for you. And how had that worked out? She was twenty-five. Alone. Living in the shadow of her dreams. Staring out at those awe-inspiring canyons, Addy saw her entire life splayed out before her—each layer of sedimentary rock a new road not taken, a new thought overturned. She realized something she’d never realized before, not in all those hours in the kitchen dreaming up meet-cutes as she mixed batter, imagining foreign adventures as she rolled fondant, pondering names for her own bakery as she piped buttercream swirls. All those princesses she loved so much had never waited for their princes to find them. They sought out adventure. They fought for their dreams. Cinderella got her butt to that ball. Ariel found a way to grow legs. Jasmine snuck out of her palace in the middle of the night. Hell, Belle faced a freaking beast. If they could do all of that, surely Addy could find some way to turn this day around, to stifle the fear and regain the anticipation—the wonder and beauty and awe of that first glance, before reality had come crashing through.
She straightened her spine and scanned the lookout, resolve more potent than it had ever been before. Her gaze stopped on the park ranger twenty feet away. An idea sparked. She didn’t think, didn’t stop, she just did, remembering all the little things she’d learned from Thad.
Don’t act nervous. If I act nervous, he’ll get nervous.
People are more likely to believe stories they come up with on their own.
Don’t deny the obvious, confront it.
Strike while the iron is hot.
Confidence breeds success.
