Captivating Witness. Melinda Di Lorenzo
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“You’re sure?”
He forced himself to answer lightly. “This from the woman who got run over by my car.”
“I guess. But you do look a little green.”
For the briefest second, he considered telling her about his overreaction and where it came from. Something in her gaze made him think she might offer a sympathetic ear. That she might even genuinely care. He shook off the urge. They didn’t have time for exchanging stories or getting all touchy-feely. What he needed to focus on was getting her away from whatever had happened back there in the alley. Before someone came back to check on their handiwork.
“I’m really okay,” he assured her.
“And there wasn’t anything in the alley?” She took a visibly shaky breath. “No body?”
“No body. But there was something,” he admitted. “I just don’t think we should hang around and talk about it here. And considering the fact that Chuck-The-Cop had your shoe, I also think it’s probably best if we steer clear of your house. At least for the moment. Any objections to sticking with my original idea?”
“Your cabin?”
“It’s out of the way. Not easy to sneak up on. If someone is looking for you, it won’t be on their radar.”
She pursed her lips and drew in her breath. And before her nod of agreement was even finished, Brayden was turning the key.
The familiar scenery whipped by in a blur of green and brown, muted by the twilight.
Though she’d grown up in Whispering Woods, she’d never had a reason to check out the little cache of rental cabins at the edge of town that bordered the wildest part of the mountain. Not up close anyway.
Unlike the large, well-visited lodge that sat in the middle of everything, their destination had the inconvenience of requiring a short drive. Most tourists didn’t want the effort. And any who were seeking something a little out-of-the-way seemed to gravitate toward the mobile home park on the way into town instead. Maybe because the park boasted its own little shop, running water and the convenience of a clubhouse.
The cabins where Max was staying were older and definitely more rustic. They’d once housed the loggers who used to call the town home. But as they approached the woodsy setting, Reggie could see that it was picturesque. Even in the dark, there was no denying the appeal. On one side of the clearing, four small cabins angled toward a fire pit. On the other, two larger wooden homes sat apart, separated from each other by a six-foot-high hedge. Tall evergreens surrounded all of it, providing a gorgeous green canopy overhead.
If she were choosing a vacation spot, it would be this over the lodge or the mobile home park any day.
Max pulled past all six houses and guided his car up a dirt path that could barely be called a road, then parked in front of a seventh cabin that Reggie wouldn’t even have guessed was there. It was the biggest of the bunch—though still a single floor—and clearly intended as a more permanent residence than the others. A wide porch went from one exterior wall to the other, and a welcome sign hung over the door. Potted plants lined the railing, and several rocking chairs and a wooden swing decorated one end of the porch, while the other held a cast-iron table and matching seats. Through the window, Reggie spotted gingham curtains, and up on the roof, she could see a metal chimney.
“Home sweet home-away-from,” the big man announced. “Sit tight and I’ll give you a hand getting out and up to the house.”
She started to protest that she was fine, but again, he was too fast. In less time than it took for her to reach for her seat belt, he was opening her door and holding out a hand.
Bracing herself for another zap of attraction, she took a breath and put her fingers into his. And there it was. A goose-bumps-inducing heat that radiated up her arm as he helped her out of the vehicle. Maybe it was simply the skin on skin, maybe it was something more, but either way, Reggie couldn’t shake off her awareness of his warmth and strength. And as he adjusted their position so that her hand was resting across his waist for support, it increased even more. The sudden physical closeness turned the prickles of attraction into a fierce burn. It made her stumble a bit before they even made it three steps across the ground toward the cabin.
“You okay?” Max asked, pausing while she regained her footing.
She managed a nod. “Yes. Fine.”
“Okay.” He sounded a bit doubtful, but he didn’t argue. “Let’s get you inside.”
He pulled her even closer to carefully lead her up the path to the steps, and she realized she was thoroughly enjoying the nearness.
She wasn’t usually much of a first-meeting-manhandler kinda girl. If anything, she considered herself to be a bit standoffish with men, prone to assessing from afar rather than jumping in haphazardly. Working in the service industry in a tourist town meant plenty of opportunities for brief encounters. And in the peak seasons—summer and winter—there was a smorgasbord of willing guys coming through the town. She’d made that mistake in her past. Just once. But one slip was all Reggie needed to know better. She barely even noticed the line of guys who paraded through town with their skis or overdone dirt bikes anymore. Especially now that she’d rounded the other side of twenty-five. Something short-term and based on fun and fun alone wasn’t what she was after.
Although, judging by the way her body was reacting to Max...there were certain parts of her that hadn’t gotten the message.
And whether or not he was aware, she couldn’t tell.
She inhaled, trying to steady the abruptly staccato beat of her heart as they took the first stair. But the deep breath had the opposite effect that it should’ve. Because along with a hit of cool, woodsy air, she also drew in a breath of tangy, mouthwatering cologne.
She stumbled again. And again Max steadied her. This time, though, his jacket whipped loose and a cell phone clattered from his pocket to land on the wood beneath their feet. For a second, Reggie stared down at it, her heart sliding up from her chest to her throat.
“You said your name was Max,” she whispered.
“Yeah?”
She pointed down. “The screensaver says ‘Brayden’s Phone.’”
“Oh. I can—”
She was off before he could even finish his sentence, one bare foot slapping the ground as she ran. A few steps later and her other shoe slipped off, too. But she didn’t stop to grab it, or even to look. Somehow, finding out she’d been deceived by the man who’d saved her brought to a head the gravity of her current situation. Something in her snapped.
A man had been shot. Not just in her sleepy little town, but behind her own family’s diner. The person who shot the man wasn’t some stranger or criminal. He was a police officer. And maybe he hadn’t seen her. But maybe he had.
And now...
Now she had nowhere to go. She was stuck on the outskirts of town with a man who’d lied about his name. A small, simple