Chapter 18
Twelve years ago
Olive, Katie, and Noah were set to graduate in two weeks, and Olive couldn’t be less excited. School ending meant that they’d be scattered far and wide from each other: Katie to University of Nevada, Reno; Noah to San Diego State to play baseball, thanks to a scholarship; and Olive would be heading to NYU. She had an offer for an internship for the summer, but she couldn’t do it, couldn’t give up her last summer in Sunrise Cove.
She actually had no idea what she’d been thinking a year ago when she’d applied. Okay, not true. A year ago, she’d known only that it was time to stop depending on Gram and the Turners, time to learn to be on her own. She’d even been tentatively excited.
But as her departure date got closer and closer, that excitement had been replaced by a growing panic. Leaving everyone she knew and loved had her halfway to a panic attack as she rode Gram’s old ATV up to Hidden Falls, to her class’s “secret”
senior party. Neither she nor Katie felt comfortable at parties, but Joe was going, so Katie wouldn’t miss it.
Olive would have preferred to. Noah’s kiss had been everything she’d ever wanted, but he was acting like it’d never happened. Fine, they were just pretend, she got it. It’d been her own stupid doing and she had no one to blame but herself, but it didn’t mean she had to remain stupid.
She decided that tonight she’d set her sights on someone else, anyone else, and she’d forget all about Noah Turner. Walking through the crowd, she turned at the sound of her name, surprised to see Trev Bates from chem class. She was pretty sure he’d been copying off her tests for months, but he was cute, and one of the few guys who even tried to be nice to her.
“You still with Noah?” he asked.
“Nope.”
Trev smiled. “Wanna dance?”
Her heart thundered in her ears because other than that time in middle school when they’d all learned how to dance in PE, she’d never danced with a guy. “Sure.”
The song blasting out of the speakers was a slow one, and Trev pulled her close. It was a hot night and he was a little sweaty, but he was smiling down at her and she felt herself smiling back. When the song was over, he took her hand. “Let’s go for a walk.”
“Um . . .”
She looked around for Katie, because, naive though she might have been, even she knew no self-respecting girl should go off into the woods with a guy, no matter how cute, at least not without telling her best friend.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of you,”
Trev promised, pulling her along.
“Olive.”
Noah stood in front of them, arms crossed, face blank, eyes cold. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Going for a walk.”
Noah looked at Trev, one of his teammates, and his eyes went from cold to ice. “No.”
Oh, he had some nerve, not wanting her for himself but still holding her back. “Let’s go,”
she said to Trev.
“He thinks because you’ve never done this before that you’re an easy target,”
Noah said.
Olive had a very slow fuse, it took a lot to rile her, but she went straight to seeing red. “Just because you don’t want me, doesn’t mean no one else does.”
Ignoring this, Noah looked at Trev. “Trust me, she’s more trouble than she’s worth.”
Trev let go of Olive’s hand and walked away without a second glance.
They now had an audience of at least fifteen other kids, and horror and humiliation crawled up her throat. Her flight instinct had her whirling and running, heading as fast as she could toward where she’d left the ATV. It took her a moment to start the thing because it was ancient, and another to swipe away the angry tears she refused to acknowledge. Before she could hit the gas, someone slid onto the ATV behind her.
Noah.
“Get off,”
she snapped.
“No.”
She elbowed him in the gut, but he refused to budge. Fine. She hit the gas. It was slow going on the temperamental ATV, which was meant for only one rider, but it was better than walking. Halfway home, a surprise storm hit hard and heavy, deluging them in seconds.
“Stop,”
he said in her ear. “Let’s switch. I’ll drive—”
She didn’t stop, she drove through the crazy rain on the narrow, curvy dirt road. Freezing, shaking, drenched, she gasped in shock as a massive branch fell across the road right in front of them, forcing her to stomp on the brakes. But it was like trying to dock the Queen Elizabeth II, and she went into a slide, finally coming to a messy stop only a few feet from the fallen branch.
“I’ll drag it aside,”
Noah said. “Keep one foot on the brake and the other revving the engine so you don’t stall.”
When she nodded, he hopped off and began dragging the huge branch off to the side.
A strong gust of wind hit, nearly knocking her off the ATV, but she managed to hold on, even as her wet boot slipped from the brake. She screamed as the ATV leaped forward, right at Noah.
Then right into Noah . . .
Present day
The soft whir of the heater clicking on was the only sound in the room when Noah opened his eyes. He didn’t have to glance at his phone to know that it was 4:58 in the morning. His body always woke him just before his alarm.
He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to wake up because the next two minutes were all his. No family to appease. No work. No Joey padding in on bare feet and taking a flying leap, landing on his belly, bouncing as he yelled “it’s morning!”
No stressing over Joe’s recovery.
These two minutes were sheer luxury.
Definitely not a substitute for a day off, which he probably needed. Or an actual vacation for that matter, which seemed even more unlikely. But still, he treasured these 120 seconds because—
Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep.
Aaaand time. He rolled out of bed, brushed his teeth, and reached for the shower valve, wanting the water hot, hot, hot—only to go still at the sight of a bunch of silky, lacy underthings hanging from one end of the shower to the other.
They were dry, so he took them down, his callused fingers gliding over silk, lace, and cotton. By the time he set them in a neat stack next to the sink, he needed a cold shower, which didn’t improve his mood any. Knowing he was going to spend the entire day in close proximity to the woman who left him torn between running for the hills and kissing—among other things—he dressed, mentally preparing himself for the hours ahead.
A few minutes later, he was outside in the icy dawn to load his truck, including his Razor, a modern version of Gram’s old ATV. For one thing, the Razor was a UTV—utility terrain vehicle—which was far more powerful and actually meant for two people to ride, side by side.
When he heard footsteps, he was shocked. Mostly because Olive had never met a morning she liked, and he’d expected to have to wait. Leaning back against the truck, he took in her weak smile and raised a brow. “Having second thoughts?”
“About going to look for my parents?”
she asked. “No. About going with you?”
Her smile turned a bit more genuine. “Definitely.”
His own smile was knowing. “Smart woman.”
She offered him coffee in a to-go cup, which he gratefully took. “Thanks.”
She sipped from her own cup, her gaze drifting to the Razor. To her credit, there was zero hesitation. She wore jeans, hiking boots, a knit cap, and a cute white puffer jacket that was more fashion than function. She’d dropped a dainty little backpack at her feet. He’d have been impressed at how little she’d packed, but there was also a huge duffel bag that made him laugh. “I could pack the entire T-ball team in that bag.”
“Hey, your bag isn’t so small itself.”
“It’s a go-bag.”
She eyed it. “The only thing I know about go-bags is from TV. Why would we need a bag filled with survival stuff?”
“So we have everything we might need in an emergency survival situation.”
She paused. “Do you anticipate an emergency?”
“Always.”
He took a look at her face and bit back a sigh. “Ninety percent of my job is mundane, boring investigative work. But that other ten percent can turn deadly in a hot second if I’m not prepared.”
He hoisted the bag. “So I’m prepared. Always.”
“How prepared? Like, do you have cookies in there?”
“No, but I’m betting you do.”
She looked away. “Maybe.”
Yeah. She totally had cookies in there.
“So what’s in the go-bag that makes you prepared for anything?”
she wanted to know. “Condoms?”
The minute the word came out, she slapped a hand over her mouth, like she hadn’t meant for the word to escape. “Never mind,”
she quickly said. “Don’t answer that.”
He smiled. “Let me know if you change your mind and want to know.”
He nudged her duffel with his boot. “Those are some heavy cookies.”
“It’s stuff to eat, for the both of us. Keep it up and I won’t share.”
She tossed him a protein bar. His brand. Favorite flavor. “Breakfast of champions.”
He stared down at it, then back at her. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with Olive Porter, the woman who hates mornings, hates healthy food, and disagrees with hiking boots on principal because they aren’t flattering?”
She didn’t smile, and his faded. Because now he could see past her bravado to the exhaustion in her eyes. “Did you sleep at all?”
Ignoring that, she picked up her small backpack. “We doing this or what?”
“Yes—”
He stopped at the notification that hit his phone. Tapping the link, he blew out a breath.
“What?”
“I’ve been watching the weather since last night. It was fine then, and also when I checked after my shower a few minutes ago. But now there’s an alert for a possible surprise storm.”
He looked up. “It could blow in late this afternoon, fast and hard. The good news is that if it does, it should be over by midnight. We could wait until tomorrow—”
“What are the chances of precip?”
she asked.
“Twenty percent, but—”
“That’s nothing.”
She tossed her backpack in the truck and started to reach for the big duffel bag, but he beat her to it, slipping the strap over his shoulder. “Olive.”
“Noah,”
she said, mimicking his deep tone.
Smart-ass.
She tipped her head back to look him in the eye. “Are you forgetting I spent the first fourteen years of my life living off the grid in a virtual tin can?”
He’d never forgotten a single thing about her. “We’re going to be on a UTV—”
“It has a roof.”
“Yes,”
he said. “But it’s open on the sides, no windows, no protection from the elements.”
His gaze met hers. “In a potentially big storm. Ringing any bells?”
She held up a hand, like she was making a solemn vow. “I promise not to run over you.”
“I’m not worried about your driving,”
he said. “Well, okay, I’m worried about your driving. But I’m more worried about mental trauma.”
“Yours?”
she asked sweetly. “Or mine?”
He sighed.
Her amusement faded. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . .”
She shook her head. “I’m worried if we wait, they’ll be gone. I need to see them, Noah. Need to make sure they’re okay.”
What she didn’t say, but what they both knew, was that she needed to see them . . . before she left again.
Stepping close, she put her hand on his chest. “I get the logical thing is to wait, but being back here is like stepping into a time machine. I’m feeling less and less like the capable, successful woman I turned myself into, and more like that lost, insecure, uncertain teenager who doesn’t know who she is or where she fits in the world.”
The words, softly and earnestly spoken, broke something inside him. He knew how she’d felt back then. Just as she, and only she, knew he’d felt the same. “Let’s get on the road, then,”
he said gruffly. “We’re wasting daylight.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. She hopped into the truck, no hesitation, no fear, no worries, apparently one hundred percent confident in his abilities to take care of them.
He had the skills. He’d absolutely keep them safe. Physically. But mentally or emotionally? That was most definitely outside his skill set, as she should know all too well.
Nearly two hours later, beneath a turbulent, churning, gunmetal gray sky, they left the highway, turning onto a narrow, curvy two-lane road to climb up.
And up.
His passenger hadn’t said much, and neither had he, though their silence felt oddly . . . comfortable.
Soon enough they left the asphalt behind. It wouldn’t be long before they’d leave his truck behind too, going the rest of the way on the UTV. His passenger squirmed and pressed her hands over her belly. He glanced over at her. “Hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Me too.”
He stopped right in the middle of the fire road. It was single lane, and there were no other vehicles stupid enough to be out here at this time of year with a storm brewing. And it was brewing. The wind had kicked up, rustling the pines towering all around them.
The minute he turned off the truck, Olive was out of her seat belt and up on her knees, turning in the seat, reaching into the back for her bag. He resisted looking at her sweet ass for at least a fifth of a second.
Progress.
When she plopped back into her seat, her hands full of food, he had to laugh. “You bring the kitchen sink too?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Do you want me to share or not?”
“Yes, please.”
She had cheese, crackers, apples, peanut butter, chips, and a variety bag of mini chocolate bars.
If he hadn’t already, he’d have fallen for her right then and there. “You’re amazing.”
“True story.”
With a laugh, he pulled out his pocketknife and sliced up two apples and a stack of cheese while she opened the crackers and pulled out the peanut butter.
A few minutes later, she was licking crumbs off her thumb with a little suction sound that nearly killed him.
“This is all a woman really wants,”
she said. “Food.”
He slid her a glance. “Right.”
“No, really.”
He gave a slow shake of his head. “In my experience, pleasing a woman is a lot more complicated than cheese and crackers.”
“Maybe you’ve been with the wrong women.”
“True story.”
She snorted, but he was way too curious to let it go. “You’re saying food is enough to satisfy you?”
She shrugged. “I’m saying I wouldn’t mind someone feeding me once in a while. Nothing fancy, my choice would be . . . tacos. And maybe it’d be nice to hear I’m beautiful once in a while.”
His heart ached that she didn’t have that, because she absolutely deserved it. “Tell me you want more than tacos and pretty words.”
She stuffed an apple slice ladened with peanut butter into her mouth.
Subject closed, apparently. They cleaned up, and Noah said, “At the next place where there’s room, we’re going to leave the truck behind.”
She nodded, knowing that from there to the yurt, they’d wind up the mountain with switchbacks that the UTV could handle much better than his truck.
Two minutes later, he found a good spot to stop and looked at Olive. “We’ll be okay.”
A rough laugh escaped her. “Who are you trying to convince, you or me?”
“Both.”
Her gaze dropped to his mouth and everything inside him reacted. Leaning in, he kissed her without thinking. When he realized what he was doing, he started to pull back, but with a sexy-as-hell little murmur of complaint, she gripped his shirt with two fists and held on tight. When they broke apart for air, he saw a matching raw hunger in Olive’s eyes and he had to close his own. “Oli—”
“I know. Bad idea.”
Yes. Because if kissing her had been a mistake, touching her was an invitation to mutual destruction. He slid on his jacket and got out of the truck. The wind had kicked up and the temperature had dropped. He still had his doubts on this being a smart thing, but Olive wasn’t going to give up now. Or ever. It wasn’t in her nature, and, honestly, it wasn’t in his either.
So he backed the UTV down the ramp. When he started loading up their bags, Olive was there, helping. He handed her a helmet, put on his, and then started the engine, meeting her gaze. “Last chance to turn back.”
She stared straight ahead, her eyes and mouth, no longer softened by their kiss, had turned grim. “No.”
Okay, then. But he’d been driving off-road vehicles his entire life, and also for work. He knew he could get them there. In what condition would be another matter. The temperature had dropped and she shivered. “Cold?”
A negative shake of her head was his only answer. He gave her a long look.
“I’m fine.”
“Uh-huh. Now the truth.”
She sighed. “I’m just remembering the last time we were out in the wilderness in a storm, okay? The memory’s messing with me more than a little.”
“It’s not going to happen again,”
he said firmly.
“Because we’re on a different fire road?”
He flashed a smile. “Because I’m driving.”
“Wow.”
He let out a low laugh. “I’m kidding.”
Her eyes narrowed. “So you won’t mind if I drive, then.”
“You’d have to pry the steering wheel out of my cold, dead hands.”
She tossed up her own hands. “So you do mind.”
“Let’s just say this isn’t the place I’d be interested in letting you drive.”
“Where, then?”
He hit the gas.
“Where, then?”
she repeated, having to yell over the engine and the fierce wind.
He slid his gaze to hers and waggled his brow.
“Seriously!”
Her eyes went wide in disbelief. “Your bed? That’s where you’d let me drive? Oh my God, you’re such a guy.”
Guilty as charged. But the brief smile that flashed across her face, telling him he’d coaxed her out of her own head at least, had been worth it.
Five minutes later, it started raining. Fifteen minutes, and the windshield wipers were having a seizure. Seeing the road had become a luxury, and when his tires slipped in the mud, the rear end fishtailing, Olive gasped. “Hang on,”
he said, steering them out of the spin before stopping. “You okay?”
Her breath came in little pants and she had a grip on the Oh Shit bar. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He did love her sass. “We’re closer to the yurt than my truck now, so it’s probably safer to keep going than turn around at this point.”
“Agreed.”
Still, the going was slow, and twenty-five minutes later, he stopped.
Olive squinted through the downpour to the vague outline of a yurt. “This is it? I don’t see any other vehicles. And is that a second, smaller yurt off to the side?”
“That’s the outhouse.”
She looked at him in horror.
“No running water,”
he said. “Don’t worry, I have several gallons of drinking water in the back.”
She studied the yurt. “Maybe something happened to their van, and they walked in.”
He had his doubts on this. The place had a feel of vacancy to it. But this being her show, he waited for her to make a move to get out. When she didn’t, he nodded. “I’ll go take a look around back. Maybe they parked there for some reason.”
He exited the Razor straight into hell—if hell had rain coming down in thick, heavy sheets, that is. Gusts of wind slanted the rain in a sharp angle, making it difficult to see much.
Olive appeared at his side. “They could be on a hike,”
she shouted.
“In this weather?”
“They don’t always think things through.”
No shit. They never had, at least when it came to Olive.
The yurt was the size of a VW bus. They walked around it to the back but didn’t find a van. Or anything. Completely drenched to their skin by then, they returned to the front door, which Olive knocked on while Noah peered into the sole window.
No signs of life.
Olive tried the handle. “It’s locked.”
“Not a problem.”
“You’re going to B and E?”
she asked.
“No B.”
He flashed a smile. “Just E.”