Authors: Cara Ellison
He opened a linen closet in the hallway, and pulled out a fresh set of bedsheets.
“Oh…” Aimee felt ridiculous. She sounded like an idiot, blathering on.
Just shut up
, she scolded herself. “Well, see you downstairs,” she stammered.
She turned and hurried downstairs.
By the time she got into the kitchen, her heart was pounding and her hands were shaking. Adrenaline poisoning, she thought. She was afraid of getting caught with stacks of stolen cash.
But that was only partially the reason for her mindlessness. It was his gorgeous nakedness that had completely awed her, stirring the fantasies she’d been trying to suppress.
When Mark emerged, he wore black pants and a blue button-down shirt. He smelled like heaven. Whatever his aftershave, he definitely should keep using it. It was light, a musk-citrus combination, and completely irresistible.
“You clean up nice,” she said.
“And I’m charming,” he said with a grin, leaning into her. She began to tremble uncontrollably as his eyes met hers, his lips playfully smiling just inches from her own.
Oh god
. She was not ready for this. His killer closeness, his sexy lips teasing her, tempting her to just lift her face an inch to meet his mouth. She felt shivery excitement and awe, and aching desire for his contact.
Then he abruptly pulled back, holding a bottle of wine that he’d fetched from the small wine rack behind her.
She might have exhaled audibly. Blushing madly from embarrassment she turned away and busied herself with getting a treat for May and refreshing her water and food dishes.
“You okay?” Mark asked, the smile still in his voice.
“Yes, I just want to make sure May is taken care of. Is that good wine?”
“It’s pretty good. It’s a Spanish dessert wine.”
She nodded, trying to pay attention. Her hands were shaking. His closeness had really thrown her. She tried desperately to calm down.
“You ready?” Mark asked after she finished with May.
She nodded, not quite trusting her voice.
“Good, come on,” he said, and grabbed her hand, then gently pulled her toward the door to the garage. His hand was soft and warm and sure. He held the door open and she climbed up on the running board and inside.
As they drove, Aimee looked out at the dark streets, thinking about the kiss that almost happened. Her system was still jangled, still antsy.
She heard Mark mutter under his breath and then glance in the rear view mirror. Aimee looked behind and saw the cherry red and blue lights of a police cruiser right behind them.
Her heart stopped in her chest; her whole body broke out in a cold sweat. Aimee looked out the window to the black wilds. It looked so much like the night of the crash – all black, empty space. She wondered if she could run again. She looked up at Mark, who was slowing down and pulling to the edge of the road.
“Don’t stop,” she said. Her voice sounded cold and small to her own ears.
He met her eyes briefly, and some secret knowledge passed between them.
Then
, she would think later. That’s the exact moment he knew she had lied about everything. She was wrong, of course. He had known about her lies since almost the first moment. But it was the first open admission that she had a reason to avoid the police.
Mark said nothing, but pulled over the shoulder. “We’ll be fine,” he said, and reached over to take her hand.
The police car parked behind them and a few seconds later, the impossibly bright light of a Maglight shone through Mark’s open window.
Aimee reminded herself to breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. She tried to remain calm and focus on her breath, even as her body began to shake uncontrollably. Her mouth had gone dry.
“Do you know how fast you were going?”
“Yes,” Mark answered.
When nothing else was forthcoming, the officer asked for Mark’s license and registration.
He went back to his cruiser.
“Stay calm,” Mark said softly. He was looking straight at her. Unable to meet his eyes, she looked at her hands in her lap. “This is routine. I was speeding or something.”
Aimee said nothing. She imagined the connections between this police officer and Seth. Since he knew she was not dead, it was not possible that he simply put out an all-points bulletin on her. But how would Seth know to look for her with Mark Spanner?
She was trying to figure that out when the officer returned. “You’re free to go. But please slow down through here. You were going eighty in a seventy mile an hour zone.”
Mark took the paperwork and said thank you.
Aimee held her breath, waiting for the officer to notice her shaking hands or the way she refused to look at him. But he simply walked away.
Mark buzzed up the window and watched the officer pull around the SUV and speed down the road.
When the red tail lights looked very far away, Mark said, “Whatever you’re afraid of, we need to discuss it.”
“Okay.”
“Tonight, when we get back home. Deal?”
Aimee nodded.
He lifted her chin and forced her to look at him. “Deal?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Mark smiled and shook his head. He sat back in the seat and put the car in gear.
“What are you laughing about?”
“I’m not laughing,” Mark said.
“You’re smirking.”
He turned to look at her. He shrugged. “I guess I just have a thing about complicated women.”
Aimee was so relieved that the cop didn’t drag her to jail on some trumped-up, Seth-invented charge that she would have agreed to anything – even telling Mark the whole truth. She tried to relax and look forward to dinner with Mark’s friends. They drove into the foothills, a residential area that wound up the mountain toward rocky cliffs that bordered the edge of town.
“See that huge monster at the top?” Mark said, indicating a house that seemed to wrap around the entire top of a peak.
“Hard to miss.”
“That’s Robert Reid’s house.”
“Really? I love his movies.”
“He moved in just a few months ago.”
“I wonder if he’s bringing other movie stars with him.”
“That would be a mixed blessing, I think.”
They arrived at a much smaller home, but one that, in Aimee’s opinion, was much more charming. In the darkness, it looked like a spacious ranch-style house, the kind that she associated with the Portland suburbs.
Larissa greeted them with warm hugs and kisses on the cheek and invited them inside. The Jenkins had a lovely home; a fire was roaring in the grate; candles had been lit and jazz was playing.
“The kids are with my mother so we can have a real adult conversation,” Larissa said. “And also I can have a glass of wine or four.”
She set aside the Spanish dessert wine that Mark had given her and poured from an open bottle of white.
Aimee took the glass gratefully. She was still buzzing from the emotional rollercoaster of the evening – seeing Mark nearly naked, stupidly thinking he was going to kiss her, and then the sheer, teeth-busting terror of thinking she’d been found by the police. Anything to mellow her out was welcome.
In the kitchen, John was slicing tomatoes to be served with raw mozzarella, sprinkled with olive oil and basil while beautiful filets marinated on a plate nearby.
“Now that you’re here, time to get these babies on the grill,” he announced.
Mark and John went outside and Larissa took over the salad and potato duties.
“You look lovely tonight,” Larissa said.
“Thanks.”
She slit her eyes at Aimee in a way that made her nervous. “I like you.”
Aimee laughed. “That’s a good thing. I like you too.”
“I think you’re good for him.”
“Oh. Well…. We’re not…”
Larissa chuckled softly. “He likes you hon.”
Aimee felt herself blushing again. “I don’t think so.”
“I’ve known that man for thirty-six years, and he’s never brought a woman to our home.”
Aimee blinked. “Really?”
“Absolutely. He’s a very private man. Doesn’t share a lot of his romantic life with us. So I figured you must be special.” She slid the potatoes into the oven and turned to face Aimee. “I don’t mean to put any pressure on you. I guess I’m just happy to see him seeing someone again.”
“Why is that?”
“That nastiness in D.C. really did a number on him. He wasn’t quite himself for a very long time.”
Aimee looked outside to the back deck. Mark and John were hovered over the grill, laughing at something. John had a beer in one hand and steak tongs in the other. Mark had his hands jammed into his pockets. As if feeling the wake of her stare, he turned and looked at her with a private little smile.
“The nastiness in D.C…” she repeated softly.
“He hasn’t told you about it?”
“His medical career?” Aimee asked.
“Yeah, the scandal. I think it really broke him for a while. But it looks like he’s coming out of that tailspin.”
Aimee admired the sweetness of his face and decided she didn’t want to know the details of this. Not from Larissa. She might not be long in Spanner, Montana but there were already too many secrets and lies between Mark and herself. She didn’t want more. If he wanted to tell her about the “nastiness in D.C.” she would listen. She would listen openly, with her whole heart, without judgment. But Mark would have to tell her himself.
Aimee smiled and took a sip of the wine. “So how old are your kids?”
Mark put down his fork for a moment, looking at Lauren across from him. She’d been nervous as a cat for most of the evening but she seemed to be loosened up now. She glanced up, catching his eye and smiled.
She was so pretty. So fucking beautiful. He liked the way she was polite to a fault, and the way she laughed – giggling like a happy baby, unreserved and joyful. He liked her goofy sense of humor and her expansive interests. She was a bit directionless, but she was so young, there was plenty of time for her to figure out what she wanted to do. And that was something he had in common with her, he reminded himself.
As they finished the meal, Larissa began to clear the dishes. Lauren and John rose to help her, and Mark followed. In the kitchen, Larissa rinsed the dishes. Mark heard her ask a question, then Lauren was saying, “I used to teach yoga and pilates.”
His attention sharpened.
Larissa turned and leaned forward, her eyes boring into Lauren’s. “I have a fantastic idea. You should teach a class at the store! We have a demonstration studio in the store that would be just perfect. And it would help move the merch,”