Connecting Strangers (Discovering Emily) (3 page)

Damn it. Of all people, why did I have to run into a self-proclaimed guardian angel? But a hot shower did sound nice as did a fresh change of clothes. I drag myself out into the bite of the early morning air, and Francine shuts the door behind me.

“Fell asleep my ass,” she mutters aloud.

I traipse after her with as much eagerness as a dog on its way to the vet. “Francine.” I grab her arm before she can open the back door of the diner. “I appreciate your concern. I really do, but I’m fine. Really. I was just tired last night. That’s all.”

She looks down at my hand holding her arm then back up at my face. “Shower first. Then we’ll talk. We’ve got another couple of hours before the diner opens. I always like to get here early. Good thing I stuck to my routine, huh?” She yanks open the door and waves me inside. “And there’s no more use protesting.”

She’s made that very clear. I could continue to argue, but I’m bone tired and in need of some warmth. So I walk ahead of her. Inside, the diner is empty and chilly. As the lights start coming on behind me, I move into the back of the kitchen, watching Francine bustle around.

“The bathroom is on the left, and there’s some towels in the armoire in there. I’ll be right back with something for you to wear. I’ll lock the door behind me.”

Once I step inside the bathroom, all my complaints disappear. It doesn’t look anything like what I expected to find inside a diner. Instead of utilitarian, this bathroom, with its claw-footed tub, bamboo benches, and plush memory foam rugs, was designed with comfort and aesthetic pleasure in mind.

I lean in and adjust the ceramic knobs on the tub until the water reaches the right temperature. Once I step into the shower and the hot water starts streaming down my back, I let out a sigh of relief. There’s a new bar of softly-scented soap as well as a bottle of shampoo on the bench next to the tub, and I reach for both. The scent of coconut fills the room when I lather my hair, and I feel like I’m in a luxury spa. As I wash away the dirt and tension, I relax for the first time in almost twenty-four hours. Mark isn’t here now. Not that he won’t come for me, but I can enjoy these moments…until the soap and water saturate the bandage on my thigh, and the instant pain yanks me back to the last night we spent together.

Wincing, I turn my leg away from the water while wondering what I’m going to do about a new bandage. Hadn’t thought about that when I was in such a hurry to leave. Oh, I’d been packed and ready to go, but things just didn’t turn out the way I thought they would.

The tiled floor chills my feet when I step out, and I quickly drag the memory foam mat closer. Shivering, I dry myself in record time, carefully patting the bandage in an effort to keep it in place for a little longer, before wrapping the towel around me like a sarong.

Francine hasn’t returned yet, and I don’t relish the thought of putting my old clothes back on. My nose wrinkles, and I decide to just stay in the towel for now. Francine had said the diner didn’t open for another couple of hours so it’s probably safe to venture out. I can just stay in the back until she returns.

I pluck my bra off the hook on the back of the door and gather the rest of my clothes in one hand. I could possibly find a bag to put them in until I could get them washed. My feet making damp footprints along the tile in the back of the kitchen, I wander in between the row of stoves and stainless steel countertops.

A sense of unease slithers down my spine. My mind tells me I don’t have a reason to be afraid here, but I can’t shake the feeling. “Francine, where are you?” I whisper to the empty kitchen.

Now’s the perfect time for me to leave, but I can’t. Not only did Francine lock me in, but I wouldn’t get very far on the fumes left in my gas tank. Still shivering, I edge closer to the window next to the back door and peer out. Not even a hint of movement in the early dawn hour. The glass fogs when I exhale, reminding me of the frigid air. Another reason to stay inside until I’m better prepared to leave.

I walk away, putting some space in between me and the emptiness. The front of the diner doesn’t look so foreboding so I climb up on the stool in front of the cash register and wait. Impatiently. Losing track of time while I sit there drumming my fingers on the counter. It doesn’t take long for my mind to take me back to the argument that set my new path in motion…and the reason I knew I wouldn’t go back to Mark or to Broomtown, at least not willingly.

I’d fallen asleep on the sofa while watching television. It had been close to seven o’clock when Mark had stumbled in, an early night for him, but he’d been pissed to see me asleep. The insults began right away, the names both vile and relentless. I’d walked away from him, but that didn’t stop him.

He’d followed me into our bedroom, and though I tried to slip into the bathroom, he was faster and shoved me down onto the bed. I’d fought him, but Mark had always been strong.

I remember my tongue feeling thick in my mouth, and I tried to scream for help. But Mark silenced any sound I could make with his hand. I didn’t see what he took out of his pocket, but later I realized it had been a lighter. As he’d held me down, he’d used it to heat the metal initials on his keychain.

When I’d realized his intention, I fought like a wild animal to break free, but Mark had only pressed me harder into the mattress, threatening to break my neck if I didn’t shut up. He’d spread my legs so my thigh was open to him, and he’d pressed the searing keychain against my skin, branding me like a cow he owned.

I’d screamed so loudly I thought our next door neighbor would come running. Or I’d hoped. But that guy knew Mark’s temper. No way he’d interfere. I couldn’t blame him then, and I didn’t blame him now. Few people wanted to go up against Mark. Though years had passed since his football days, he still had the same stocky build and brawny muscles. Add those to his mean disposition, and few people wanted to cross him.

“Freeze!”

The shout behind me launches me to my feet, and the stool skids away with my memories. One hand covers my heart that’s now pounding like a fist against my ribcage.

“I said don’t move!”

I stick my hands in the air, and the towel slips several notches. “I’m not moving.”

“Now turn around very slowly.”

The voice sounds familiar. It couldn’t possibly be…but I turn, and it is. Sheriff Adam Madison, and he’s got his gun trained on me like I’m some sort of threatening criminal.

“What are you doing?” I lower my hands without his permission because my only cover is about to slip low enough to expose my breasts.

“Emily?” He lowers his gun. “I couldn’t tell it was you in the shadows. What in the hell are you doing here?”

“Francine invited me. She knows I’m here, but I doubt she invited you.” I fold my arms in front of me to secure the towel, careful to not lift it too high. I’d rather show the top of my breasts than the wound on my thigh. One look at that would have Adam asking questions I’m not answering. “Do you always come barging into the diner with your gun drawn?”

“You triggered the alarm.” He juts his chin toward the register. “Guess you got too close to it.”

I look over my shoulder then back at him. “Well, I wasn’t trying to steal anything if that’s what you’re thinking. I was waiting for Francine to get back.” My heart has finally resumed its normal rhythm. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“I was doing my job.” From the dim light coming in through the full-length windows, I see him scan me from head to toe. “You always sit out in full view of windows wearing nothing but a towel?”

“Not always.” I clutch my protection and put the counter between us. He’d had all the free looks he was going to get. “How did you get in here?” And how can you possibly look so good this early in the morning?

And he does. Mouth-watering good with his sandy-brown hair windblown, and his shirt tucked in tightly enough so I can see his well-defined abs. In the male perfection department, he scores a ten.

Adam secures his gun. “I have a master key.”

“Of course you do.” His response gives me time to regain my composure. Not that I would keep it very long with him being so close. Adam Madison makes my stomach flip-flop and other parts of my body go warm. Too warm. Like he turns a furnace on whenever he walks in a room.

It’s been a long time since I’ve noticed a man the way I notice him. And it’s not good. I didn’t leave Broomtown to find another man to hook up with. After Mark, I need time and space, lots and lots of space…especially from the male gender.

“Adam, for the love of Pete, what are you doing?” Francine rushes in to stand in front of me, and my head stops whirling. Her presence gives me the distraction my body needs to right itself.

“She tripped the alarm by getting too close to the register.” Adam fixes his gaze on my face. “Seems an odd place for her to wait for you.”

Even though his lip is lifted at the corner as though he’s joking, my temper spikes. I might be on the run, but I’m no thief. “Or maybe your job has made you too damn suspicious.”

Francine snickers, and Adam nods. “Could be.” He gives Francine his attention. “If everything’s all right here, I’ll be heading out.”

“You might want to hang around. I may be tempted to make off with a couple cans of beef broth.” I tend to get really bitchy when cornered.

“Okay, Mae West,” Francine intervenes. “You head on back to the bathroom and see if any of these fit you.” She stuffs my arms full with clothes. “Adam, get out of here. As you can see, I’m not in any danger, and even if I was, you know I can take care of myself.”

He grins and winks. “I’ve never doubted that.” He walks toward the back of the diner, pauses, and looks over his shoulder. “So I take it you’re going to be staying a while, Ms. Murdoch?”

The way he drawls my name unleashes butterflies in my stomach. And when I look at him to answer, his gaze is so intense I forget about the towel and grip the counter to keep from sprinting over it. He’s still waiting for my answer so I squeak out, “not long.”

“I’m thinking about giving her a job,” Francine offers this information to my surprise. “I could do with some time off.”

“Francine, I really don’t think—”

“You know how hard I work, Adam,” she breezes right over top of me. “If anyone deserves a break, I do.”

Adam studies me a little too intently, his gaze focusing more on the display of skin than my face. “I guess you do.” His steps are slower this time, more deliberate when he pauses. “Oh, one more thing. How exactly do you spell your last name, Ms. Murdoch? Because when I ran your license plate last night, it came up registered to an Emily Blakely. I thought you might hyphenate or something.”

Those hazel eyes bore into mine, and he’s daring me to lie again. Heat stings my cheeks, and I want to look away. But he’s too good at what he does. I open my mouth to speak, but Francine comes to my rescue again.

“Well, why on earth would you be looking up her license plate when she hasn’t done anything wrong? That’s a waste of taxpayer money, if you ask me.” She jams her hands on her curvy hips and taps her right foot.

I have the pleasure of seeing Adam look a little uncomfortable. He doesn’t like being questioned. “It’s my job to make sure Juniper Springs is safe, Francine. I take that duty seriously. When a stranger comes here, I check them out.”

“Uh-huh.” Francine doesn’t sound like she believes him. “I don’t recall you mentioning anything about ‘checking out’ that guy who made himself at home outside my diner a couple months ago. He slept behind the dumpster for three days, even though you threatened to lock him up. I don’t believe you tried to find out any information about him before he moseyed on, did you?”

She steamrolls over top Adam’s attempt to respond. “It don’t make me no never mind anyway. There’s plenty of time to interrogate Emily later, if that’s all you have in mind, which would be a damned shame if you ask me. For now, she needs to get dressed before I have a crowd of customers enjoying the show.”

I mouth “thank you” to her before I scamper away, diving back into the quiet of the spa-like bathroom. I know as I’m getting dressed there’s no way I can take Francine’s job offer.

Adam Madison already knows I’m on the run. He’s discovered my real name, and it won’t take him long to find out everything else he wants to know. Juniper Springs isn’t my sanctuary.

Chapter Three

Adam is gone when I return to the front of the diner, but one peek outside and I see his car. How long does he plan to stay there? Is he watching me? Nerves cause my stomach to clench, and I cover my abdomen with one hand as I go in search for Francine. I have to tell her I can’t stay.

The jeans she’s given me to wear fit remarkably well. They don’t even drag the ground which is surprising for me considering I’m only 5’3. The button up shirt skims my body just right as well. I didn’t think to look for labels, but as I make my way into the kitchen, I wonder just when Francine bought these clothes. It’s more than a little obvious they weren’t bought for her, and I doubt she just happens to have my size hanging in her closet.

I find her in the kitchen turning on the ovens. “Thanks for the clothes.”

She lifts her head and gives me a smile that has her dimples appearing. “You’re welcome. Glad they fit.”

“Yeah, about that.” I run my hands down the front of the fuchsia shirt. “You always have clothes my size lying around your house?”

Her face flushes, but she doesn’t look away. “Truth is I bought ‘em last night.”

“Last night? When?”

“After you went out and parked your car behind the diner. You tried to park it far enough way where no one could see, but the truth is, the asphalt slopes so we can pretty much see anything out that back window. I thought about dragging you in here before I went to the store so you could get a decent night’s sleep, but something told me to leave it alone. But I figured you’d be needing a change of clothes in the morning. Glad I got the sizes right.” She straightens and cracks her back with her hands. “You didn’t have to sleep out there, Emily. I’ve got plenty of room at my house.”