Chapter Twelve
Paul sucked at apologies.
He tended to avoid emotional scenes with women, so he didn’t have much experience with them.
He didn’t argue, he didn’t get attached, and he never made promises he couldn’t keep.
No one got hurt, himself included, and that was the way he liked it.
His last relationship hadn’t ended well, despite these guardrails.
The acrimony of their breakup had surprised him, and he’d vowed to steer clear of entanglements moving forward.
He regretted the way he’d handled the apology to Vanessa, but he was determined to put the drama behind him and bury himself in work.
Luckily, he had plenty of construction to do.
He went next door to remove the last bits of debris from the cabin.
He’d ripped out the old carpet and foam padding in the bedrooms and living room, and peeled away the linoleum in the kitchen.
What he’d discovered underneath was not a subfloor but solid Spanish tile.
It was scuffed, but not broken. He imagined it could be resurfaced instead of replaced.
By mid-morning, he’d loaded his truck with the demolition materials and driven to the local refuse disposal station. The foul-smelling setting matched his mood.
He didn’t need Vanessa Nava in his life. He didn’t need her in his bed. He didn’t need her tempting him and challenging him every time he ventured outside. Now that he had the dock to himself, he could spend the afternoon cruising the lake or fishing.
He was searching his fridge for lunch options when his cell phone rang. It was Kyle. Paul swiped his phone off the countertop to answer him.
“I have an update on Sharma,” Kyle said without preamble.
“Okay,” Paul said, bracing himself for the worst. Aisha Sharma was the victim of the carjacking he’d interrupted.
“She’s out of ICU. They think she’ll make a full recovery.”
Paul released a slow breath. “That’s good news.”
“It’s excellent news.”
“Any word from the husband?”
“He’ll come around,” Kyle said vaguely. “The day you saw him, he’d been told she might never wake up. He was upset.”
That was putting it mildly. The crazed husband had burst into Paul’s hospital room, shoved his food tray into the wall, and threatened to kill him. If Paul hadn’t been injured, the guy might have followed through. “He still blames me.”
“He doesn’t understand the position you were in.”
Paul scrubbed a hand over his face. “Maybe I should have waited for backup.”
“If you had, that little girl and her mother might both be dead.”
“We’ll never know, will we?”
“No, we won’t, and you have to stop torturing yourself about it.”
“I’m not torturing myself.”
“Good,” Kyle said. “How’s your new bunny?”
“She’s not my bunny.”
“Is she still winding you up?”
Paul massaged his sore shoulder. “No. She left this morning.”
“Perfect. Now you can relax.”
“I tried those gummies you gave me.”
“Yeah? How was it?”
“Horrible. I had a bad reaction.”
“What do you mean?”
Paul told his brother about the experience, and included Vanessa’s assistance. “I felt like I was having a heart attack.”
Kyle wheezed with laughter as Paul described himself stumbling out of the cabin, gasping for breath, only to be rescued by the woman he’d been trying to avoid. “She took your vital signs?”
“Yes. I could hardly breathe.”
“Holy shit,” Kyle said. “Maybe I gave you the wrong kind.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some edibles are stronger than others. I guess you got the full-tilt version.”
Paul raked a hand through his hair. “Jesus Christ, man. Next time you raid the evidence room, pay attention to what you’re stealing.”
Kyle chuckled at the cop joke. “Sorry. My bad.”
Paul sighed, shaking his head.
“The boys are with Allison this weekend. I thought I’d come out to visit.”
“Really?”
“Why not? Someone needs to teach you how to relax.”
“All right,” Paul said, pleased by the prospect. A weekend with his brother was a rare treat. They both lived busy lives, and didn’t hang out that often. Maybe a bit of fishing and carousing would lift his spirits.
After he hung up with Kyle, Paul noticed a cryptic message from Frank Wilson, the owner of the cabin.
“We need to talk.”
Paul returned his call with an uneasy feeling.
Wilson answered on the first ring, and he didn’t bother with niceties. “I just spoke with Sheriff Nava.”
Paul didn’t know why he hadn’t seen this coming. He sank into a kitchen chair. “Oh?”
“He said his daughter booked one of the cabins six months ago. He isn’t happy she got turned away in the middle of the night.”
Paul stayed silent, annoyed with the situation. Wilson had been unreachable so Paul had used his own judgment. He’d been hired to do a remodel not to welcome unexpected guests. Maybe he should have conceded the space to her upon arrival. It would have caused him less trouble in the long run.
“I apologized for the mix-up,” Wilson said, “and I offered to give her a full refund. But he’s insisting that I honor her reservation.”
“What do you want me to do?” Paul asked.
“I’d like you to move next door and continue the remodel, if possible. I realize it’s inconvenient to stay in a gutted cabin, or drive back and forth from a motel. I’m willing to pay for your expenses.”
Paul didn’t care about the money. He cared about the loss of a vetted hideout and the hassle of relocating. Wilson didn’t know why Paul had left Houston, of course. Kyle had made the rental arrangements without giving any details. Paul glanced out the front window, uncertain of his next step.
“Why don’t you limit your hours to four a day?” Wilson suggested. “You said you wanted to work at your own pace. Delays are inevitable at this point.”
Paul agreed to the plan. They settled on a reasonable price for his expenses, and discussed flooring options, before Wilson hung up.
Then Paul rose to his feet and paced around the cabin.
What an ironic turn of events. He was being forced to do exactly what Vanessa had suggested from the start.
He was going to have to sleep in the middle of a construction site with no appliances and no amenities.
His shoulder muscle twitched at the thought.
He used his phone to search for available hotel rooms. It was just as Vanessa had reported. Nothing in a sixty-mile radius.
Well, fuck.
Paul wished he’d been informed about this change earlier today.
He could have bought some camping supplies in Lost Lake.
Grumbling under his breath, he called his brother again.
Kyle didn’t pick up, so he left a terse message.
Then he strode into the bedroom and stripped off his work clothes.
He might as well shower while he still had access to a functional bathroom.
After he finished, he packed all of his belongings into one bag, shoved his hat on his head, and walked out of the cabin.
As he tossed the duffel in the front seat of his truck, he considered his next step. He could leave the keys under the mat or try to deliver them in person. Maybe Vanessa hadn’t left the campground yet.
He drove the short distance to the campground and spotted her car.
Paul felt something ease inside his chest at the sight.
He’d thought he’d never see her again, and here she was.
He was relieved, though he shouldn’t have been.
He knew better than to form an attachment to a divorced woman with a small child.
He was supposed to be in isolation. She’d barged into his life and created nonstop chaos.
Even so, he wanted her around. She was like a loose thread inside him, one he couldn’t leave hanging.
He parked at the campsite across from her SUV, which was empty, and exited his vehicle.
Vanessa didn’t seem to notice his approach.
She was wearing the lightweight summer dress from the night before, and she appeared to be searching for something.
Emily was twirling in circles around the picnic table, oblivious.
While he watched, Vanessa knelt down to peer underneath it.
She was unaware of his presence, unaware that the short hem of her dress lifted and fluttered in the breeze.
Paul paused in the shade at the edge of her campsite. He shoved his hands into his pockets, but he didn’t look away. He appreciated the view for as long as it lasted. Which wasn’t long enough by half.
Emily spotted him first. “Mr. Paul is here!”
Vanessa rose to her feet and dusted off her knees. Her dress had a stretchy top, with ties at each shoulder, and a flowy skirt. Although she wasn’t tall, her legs looked long and silky. Her gaze cut to his, and he gave a respectful nod.
“We’re looking for Penelope,” Emily explained.
“I think you lost her,” Vanessa said.
“Maybe she fell into the lake and drownded.”
Vanessa sighed heavily. “We don’t have time for this. If you don’t find her in the next five minutes, we’re leaving without her.”
The little girl stamped her foot. “She ran away because you’re mean.”
Vanessa crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh really?”
“You’re mean to Grandpa, and you were mean to Dad. You sent him to live far away, and Penelope hates you!”
It dawned on Paul that they were talking about Emily’s doll.
The one she’d claimed had been bitten by a snake yesterday.
To his surprise, Vanessa sat down at the picnic table and covered her face with her hands.
Her shoulders trembled with emotion. Paul was struck by a powerful urge to comfort her, which felt very strange.
He stood rooted to the spot, uncertain if he should give them a moment of privacy.
Emily went to pat her mother’s back. “It’s okay, Mommy. Don’t cry.”
Vanessa wiped the tears from her cheeks. Her dark hair was gathered in a knot at the nape of her neck. She was one of those women who looked even more beautiful when she cried. Her eyes were luminous, soul-wrenching.
Paul couldn’t just stand there. He strode forward to search the perimeter of the campsite. “Where did you last see her?”
“I don’t know,” Emily said, joining him. “I think she got kidnapped.”