Page 18 of Beauty and the Bounty Hunter

Katrina

“Harbor!” I ran down the steps of the porch toward him, my winter coat flapping around me. My only thought was how this would hurt him, and it was all my fault. It was there, etched across his face. He was sexy gorgeous, even with a deep furrow of sorrow between his brows. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and kiss it all better.

The other bounty hunter sat back into the snow, his dark blue parka soaked with sweat, blood, and water. He shook his head and laughed.

Harbor stepped away from me, hiding his bloodied hands behind his back. “Katrina, I—”

I didn’t let him finish. I launched myself into his arms, and as they tightened around me, I knew I’d made the right decision. He was home. He was worth it. I loved him more than I had ever thought it possible to love someone.

Blue and red lights flashed along the driveway, and a police SUV crunched through the thick layer of snow. Halfway down the drive, the truck stopped.

Harbor tensed, and at that moment I realized my error in calling them without warning him.

I kissed his cheek. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you,” I said softly. “I should have spoken to you first. I called them. I’m turning myself in.”

“Fuck,” Parka Guy muttered then spat a knot of blood, marring the soft white snow.

Harbor looked at me, dumbfounded. “Why would you turn yourself in?”

I pulled him toward me and kissed his mouth, relishing the soft sweetness of him, then picked up each hand and kissed those, too. “Because it’s the right thing to do. I don’t want to run any more. I never did. That’s probably why I chose to come back here, to St. Olaf, where it felt safe and my parents were nearby, even though I knew someone would come looking for me. I didn’t do anything wrong. You helped me prove that. I don’t want to start something with you if I’m not being honest with myself.”

“Spare me,” Parka Guy muttered, stumbling to his feet. “This is fucking ridiculous.”

A deputy in uniform got out of the driver side of the police car, dark brown hair under his hat. “Hello,” he called out to us. “Deputy Rory Marshall. We got a call about a disturbance, and a fugitive. What’s going on here?”

I stepped forward, but Harbor’s gentle touch on my arm held me back. “Do you want that?” he said softly. “Something with me?”

“More than anything. I love you, Harbor. I don’t know when it happened or why, but I’m so glad I jumped into your car. I think it was fate all along.”

He kissed me on the top of my head, and laced his fingers through mine. “Then let’s go do this. Together.”

CHAPTER 17

Harbor

Twenty minutes later, Rory Marshall leaned back in his kitchen chair and stared at all of us. “So. Katrina Valdez Dobbs is wanted for bail jumping, but you have proof that she’s innocent. Both you and this guy—” he pointed to Parka Guy, now with an ice pack over his cheek—“were after her, but you detained this gentleman when he attempted to break into the property, which none of you own. Do I have all that right?”

It sounded so much worse when he summarized it.

“Yes,” Katrina said softly.

“Please, Deputy.” I covered her hand with mine and squeezed it. Deputy Rory Marshall had all the cards here, but he seemed like a man who knew justice. “Katrina was set up by her ex-husband. I have the videos to prove it. We have a lawyer working on it. Can you help us?”

Marshall sighed. “The best I can do is take her in and hold her in our town jail while this all gets sorted out. Your lawyer files the proper paperwork, all the charges get dropped, and she will be free and clear.” He leveled his gaze at Katrina. “I’m sorry, Ms. Valdez. This is the best I can offer.”

“I’ll take it,” she said quickly, squeezing my hand. “Definitely. I just want all of this to go away.”

“Thank you, Deputy.” I said it to him, but I was looking at Katrina. Even with all she had seen, she was still sitting there, right beside me. It filled me with a hope I hadn’t felt in ages.

CHAPTER 18

Katrina—two days later

The town jail in St. Olaf was almost a country club, especially since the other cell remained unoccupied during my two day stint.

Trust me. I knew exactly how lucky I was.

Harbor visited both days, spending hours with me and plying me with pastries from Sweet and Salty. Freshly-made kringle could have softened the hardest of hearts, but Harbor’s was never made of stone.

---