Page 2 of Crossroads of Betrayal
Grace shook her head, refusing to have this conversation. She’d loved and lost once in this life, and that was more than enough. No man had turned her head in years, and that’s the way she liked it. “Don’t care what he looks like, but if he doesn’t show up soon, I’m leaving without him.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, a broad-shouldered man with a wave of brown hair swept over his head and a thick beard jogged down the gentle slope toward them. Something about the way he moved had the base of Grace’s spine tingling.
Something in the pit of her stomach tightening.
“There he is.” Brooke raised a hand over her head, as if he couldn’t see where everyone waited for his arrival.
“Give me the quick version of his story.”
“Army veteran. Current firefighter. Was injured and looking for extra rehab and a chance to get his head on straight. A friend had heard of this place and recommended it. He’s from Texas but recently moved to Tennessee. Name’s Zeke.”
Alarms blasted in Grace’s brain, and she struggled not to sway on her suddenly weak legs. She studied the man as he approached, hating that he was more and more familiar with each step. Her breath caught in her throat. Her pulse raced.
No. It couldn’t be. No way in hell he’d found her. She’d ran too far and for too long for Zeke Friedman to come jogging straight up to her like a freaking fallen god with his chiseled jawline and brooding eyes.
He closed the distance, a mere twenty feet separating them, when he slowed. And there was no denying who had just crashed back into her world.
* * *
Zeke was goingto kill Penelope.
The thought played on repeat in his mind as he marched along the narrow trail, following behind the rest of the group like a line of ants. The instant he’d laid eyes on Grace, his stomach dropped to the ground and six hours later, he’d yet to regain his bearings.
Years had come and gone since the last time he’d laid eyes on her. Years filled with longing and loneliness and questions. Questions she’d refused to answer, choosing instead to run away and never return.
Choosing to end their brief marriage and leave him broken and bitter. He ran the pad of his thumb along the inside of his ring finger, the way it always did when he thought of Grace.
No way in hell Penelope Turner hadn’t known exactly what she was doing when she’d recommended he check out Crossroads Mountain Retreat. A place that seemed too good to be true, and now he understood why.
But he wouldn’t be a coward like Grace. He wouldn’t run and hide, no matter how badly he wanted to get the hell out of here. Penelope and whatever crazy-ass plan she had could go to hell and drag Grace down there with her.
A bend in the trail showed an open patch of land. From up ahead, Grace stopped and dropped her pack. “Let’s set up camp here for the night. We’ve got a few hours before the sun sets, so plenty of time to get dinner served and tents up before it gets dark.”
Zeke bit back a groan of relief. His wounded shoulder ached from the heavy load strapped to his back, but he’d rather eat dirt than complain. His mind might have been occupied with the unexpected annoyance of finally coming face-to-face with the woman who’d haunted his dreams for years, but he’d come to this place for a reason.
A reason he needed to focus on if he’d ever get back to his passion of fighting fires.
The middle-aged man who’d been a few steps ahead of him swiped his forearm over his brow. “Thank God. I didn’t want to admit I was about to drop. I’m Darrin, by the way. Don’t think we’ve met.” He extended a hand.
Zeke shook it then offered a small smile before unloading his supplies. “Zeke.”
“Haven’t seen you around the retreat. You been hiding in your room?”
“Just got here.” He didn’t really feel like opening up to a stranger right now but blowing the guy off wasn’t exactly an option. Not when they were stuck on the same excursion for the next few nights. Being rude would just create an even more awkward environment.
“You’re in for a treat, my friend. I came with the intentions of staying in my cabin long enough for my boss to think I worked through my issues.” He used his fingers to indicate air quotes when speaking the last two words. “But as soon as I caught a glimpse of that tall drink of water, I signed up for as many classes with her as I could.”
Zeke struggled not to put his fist in the guy’s crooked smile. Grace might not be his wife anymore, but that didn’t mean he wanted to hear about other men ogling her. He gave a noncommittal grunt and focused on erecting his tent.
“She knows what she’s doing. Not too friendly. But damn, those legs.”
He was going to lose his shit. Tossing the materials he’d yanked from his pack on the ground, he stomped away. He sucked in the fresh, mountain air and wandered to the edge of the trail. Close enough to keep an eye on the group, but far enough to not listen to anyone else’s bullshit.
Overgrown grass crunched under his boots as he made his way to a large boulder and sat facing a magnificent view of tree-tipped peaks, the colorful splashes of orange and red leaves glowing in the early-evening sun. Being so close to the cliff set him on edge, but he’d stay away from the steep drop. Focusing on the vista, something loosened inside his chest. He rolled back his shoulder and winced.
Maybe staying wasn’t a good idea. After Penelope told him about this place, speaking with Brooke Mather had sealed the deal on his decision to check out the retreat. Not only were the amenities top-notch, but Brooke had suffered a similar injury. Her suggestions for alternative therapy had piqued his interest enough to pay over the phone and hop in his truck to make the short drive early that morning.
But was it possible to focus on healing when the one person who’d hurt him the most was in his face?
