Chapter 10
Tate: Time’s up.
Will: What’s your plan?
Tate: I’m going to teach her how to fight.
Will: I already taught her how to shoot.
Tate: And she refuses to use her gun. Nice work though.
Will: Shut up. And keep your hands to yourself.
Will: What else are you thinking?
Tate: I was thinking I’d get her flowers first, then maybe I’d take her to a nice dinner…
Will: Don’t touch my sister.
“You ready to stop for lunch?” Tate asked as he drove a tractor pulling a large baler behind us.
I looked up at Tate from where I sat on the floor in front of him, his butt pillow and my computer situated carefully on my lap. The cab of this particular tractor was smaller, but if I sat just right, I could lean back against the window and bend my legs.
“Yeah,” I answered, my stomach growling as Tate maneuvered the tractor to a stop.
I checked my phone for a message or missed call from Will but found nothing.
The week deadline was up. I was certain he’d be making plans to bring me home.
I didn’t like to think about leaving. But I couldn’t stay here forever, and I shouldn’t want to.
I would not overstay my welcome, no matter how much I liked being here.
But Will was either avoiding my calls because he didn’t know what to do with me now, or they’d captured Leroy and he hadn’t had time to call me yet.
The latter was highly doubtful…but not impossible.
I had been stalled on a scene and was happy to take a break.
There were too many gaps in my manuscript that needed filling, and it was tripping me up.
You’d think I’d be able to recall past instances of roaming the woods of the maple farm.
Or the hours of my life spent attending and participating in the fall festival, but it was as if my entire memory of either had vanished. I was dead inside.
I spent an inordinate amount of time staring out the window. The strips of hay we’d mowed down in the field with the swather were now being sucked up into the baler, magically turning it into bales of hay. Complete with twine tied around each.
The baling process was fascinating.
And distracting.
Or maybe that was something else.
Like the way Tate would occasionally stop the baler and hop out to fix something on the machine.
It was the backward hat and the muscles peeking out from underneath the sleeves of his shirt, filling me with such a wholesome pioneer vibe that I suddenly found myself fighting the urge to rush back home and fix him some supper on the stove.
But today, instead of driving us back home for lunch as usual, Tate pulled us to a stop in the middle of the hayfield.
He reached behind him, pulled two paper sacks from behind his seat, and handed one to me.
Inside the bag, I found a partially smooshed peanut butter sandwich, a bag of chips, a Dr. Pepper, and a couple of his mom’s pumpkin cookies.
I immediately dove into the cookies and sighed in ecstasy.
His mother was a wizard with all things pumpkin.
“Is this a lunch date, honey?” The teasing words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. Though my stomach tensed, I pushed forward with a smart-mouthed smile.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he said, unfazed, as he took a large bite of his sandwich.
I scowled up at him, which he seemed to enjoy, if the irritating smirk on his face meant anything.
When we were finished eating, he motioned for me to come outside. The late-September sun felt good on my face, and I took a moment to bend and stretch out my sore, cramped muscles.
“What are we doing?” I asked.
“I’ve got a proposition for you, Rawlins.” He stood with his hands in his pockets, leaning casually against the tractor.
I rubbed my hands down my arms, ignoring the chills suddenly racing up my spine.
“Your guy never showed. There’s been zero attempt at contact. Unless he’s just gone away on a trip somewhere, he knows you're gone.”
The words brought a pang in my gut.
“I want to draw this guy out.”
My breath caught at his words. “Draw him out, how?”
“By making you easier to find.”
My body went rigid while my heart hammered in my chest. “Isn’t that the exact opposite of what we’re doing here?”
“Yeah. And he’s still in the wind, and you’re still looking over your shoulder every time you step outside.”
“But maybe we should give it more time. Maybe Will’s department can—”
“Will’s sergeant pulled everybody out. The operation’s over. He was going to come get you, but I told him to hold off until I talked to you first.”
His blue eyes were serious, piercing into mine like he was trying to read my innermost thoughts. I should be easy to read. My thoughts were simple. Eat. Sleep. Write. Hide. Repeat.
“What would all of this entail?” I could already feel the panic rising in my chest.
“It would mean that you stay here. And I’d be in charge of your safety. Completely. At least until I’m called back to work.”
“When will that happen?”
“Whenever the investigation wraps up. A couple weeks? Maybe a month.”
“What kinds of things do you have in mind? To draw him out?”
“We stop hiding you. You post pictures of us together and talk about Autumn Ridge on your socials. Pass your new address around like candy. Go to more events around town.”
My gaze flicked up to his. Panic was building in my chest, but he was ready for me. His eyes held mine carefully.
“I’ll be with you the whole time.”
There it was again. That softness. Has it always been there? Or was this new?
It was disconcerting enough that I needed to put an end to it. “That’s not really the comfort you think it is.”
A slow smile broke out across his face, momentarily piercing through his serious expression.
He was in cop mode right now, and it was refreshing to momentarily break into his stride.
Visions of us dancing at Will’s wedding came flooding back.
How easy it was for him to flirt and tease and swing me around before walking away unfazed.
“Tate. I can’t. Before, when we were hiding me…fine. But what if he does something to hurt your family? Or you?” I asked, dread sinking in my stomach at the thought. “I won’t be able to handle that.”
“They want you to stay.”
“What?” My mouth dropped open. “How do you know?”
“Because I talked to them this morning.”
“You can’t do that! I didn’t even say yes yet.”
In a surprise move, he reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me closer to him. I was caught off guard by the sudden proximity, and my hand flew to his chest to stop myself from coming closer. I swallowed and slowly lifted my gaze.
“I want you to stay,” he said, his voice low and husky, his eyes roaming gently over my face.
My heart skittered to a stop. That conniving punk. This was low, even for him.
I pulled out of his arms and began to walk away. “Hey. Nobody’s watching this. You can’t look at me like that, you big cheater.”
He bolted ahead, walking backward in front of me to keep pace.
“Like what?”
“Like we’re back at Will’s wedding and all of a sudden you're sweet and funny and making moves on me.”
“Did you like that, Rawlins?” I could hear the amusement in his voice, and it infuriated me.
“No. Just…shut up.”
“We were undercover. You knew it!” he said.
“I know! Just…stop messing with me.”
He stopped abruptly, his hands on my arms stopping me from running into his chest. He spoke lower, softer. “I’m not messing with you. We tried Will’s way, but it didn’t work. Let’s try this. We’re in control. We’ll be ready for when he comes.”
I slowed but kept walking. I was weak, and he knew it. And then he threw in the closer.
“You really want to go back to your apartment? Alone? Just to run again in a few weeks?”
I stopped. That did it. He got me where it hurt.
I couldn’t stomach the idea of going back to my apartment alone.
Living with the Walkers had made me crave people, the comforting voices throughout the house, the laughter at the dinner table…
the safety in numbers. And, much to my obvious remorse… Tate Walker.
Sighing, I turned back around. “Fine.”
His brows rose, and he held out his hand.
When I reached for it, he pulled back slightly.
“You have to listen to me,” he warned. “By nature of this whole operation, I’ll be bossing you around, as you so lovingly like to put it.
But for this plan to work, I need you with me.
We’ll be out in town doing lots of things together. No more hiding.”
My eyes narrowed. “Why does this feel dangerous in a different way?”
“‘Cause you’re a big chicken.”
I glowered, sliding my hand into his and shaking it.
Perhaps I should have waited to shake his hand until after he laid out the details.
“Alright, here’s the deal: we’ve got to get you off this farm more.
If you’re having trouble getting ideas to write, then we’re going to visit everywhere you have in your book.
Hopefully, we’ll kill two birds with one stone.
You’ll get seen, and with me holding your hand, you’ll be plenty inspired for your romance. ”
I scoffed. He bit back a smile and kept going.
“We’ll take some pictures of us and put them on your social media accounts. Tell your work and anyone else you talk to where you’re living. And I want to teach you some self-defense.”
I looked at Tate, who stood with his arms crossed. “Why?”
“I’ll give you one guess.”
“I know why,” I quickly added, “but why now?”
“I know you took your class and everything, but it might be a good idea to go over some basics again, just in case Sensei Smith forgot something.”
At my withering stare, he grinned. And then he turned serious.
“Because you froze when I asked what you’d do if Leroy came up to you. And that scared me. I need to know I’m not guarding a wimp. Show me what you’ve got.”
My heart dropped with a thud. If he thought I was going to show him the Hiya! scream my instructor was adamant we said anytime we struck or did a roundhouse kick, he was severely mistaken.
“No.”
“Yes.”