Page 23 of Runaway
But he'd also offered me a safe spot. Himself, on some level, as protection. And I couldn't deny that it gave me an unexpected level of comfort to know I'd be near him. He was a gentleman, indeed, and had no absence of strength or ability. At the very least, he could keep me physically safe, which felt like too much of a selfish ask. But one I would gladly take.
In fact, Mark was far lonelier than I would have ever imagined. Like a puppy stuck in the store, staring out the window and wishing someone would just take him home already.
Once again, I had to force myself back to his business idea when my mind wandered into deeper territories. Thankfully, he left me in blessed silence for almost ten minutes. I kept my eyes closed, but quietly cataloged all my thoughts around it until I had no more.
Then I opened my eyes. He sat on my desk chair and stared at the ground. When I shuffled, his gaze locked on mine.
“You know, Mark . . .”
He stopped, eyes wide. “Don't tell me! You love it.”
“I don'thateit.”
He let out a whoop. “That is definitely a first.” He bounced back to his feet and rubbed his hands together. “We're going places. So what do you say? You hang out here and help me get organized and prep these cabins? I'll run the errands in town so no one can see you, Justin will help with the big stuff, Lizbeth will do the website and social media management. My mom probably knows crazy people that want to escape. Dad definitely knows crazy people.”
“Mark. Stop.”
I stood next to him and he stuttered to a standstill. For two seconds a strange expression crossed his face as if he braced himself, but it faded soon into a silent question.
With firmness, I said, “It's a good idea.”
His shoulders dropped. Until that moment, I hadn't noticed how tense he was underneath all his energy. But the absence of it left him glaringly obvious. He reallydidhave a hard time finding people that would listen to his ideas. Which was understandable on some level. The man was like a fountain that didn't shut off. On the other hand, I could see a lonely little space of him existed in the vacuum of people that could twist his gear and slow it down.
Something like hope showed on his face. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I'll . . . help you however I can. As a friend.”
The word didn't strangle me. In fact, it slipped out easily.
His brow dropped, and the softening in his gaze made him look so much like a happy little boy I almost lost my composure. Dagnabbit, but why did he have to be soruggedunderneath all those layers of entrepreneur?
This was a bad idea. I didn't know why and I'd have to figure it out later, but this was abadidea.
Now that I'd started, however, I couldn't stop it.
“But I won't put my accountant support behind it until we prove it out in the numbers and . . . we find someone to rent this cabin.”
He nodded, hands held in front of him as a concession. “Fair. I'll take that offer. Shall we 007 tonight after we crunch the numbers?”
His eyebrows waggled. My lips twitched.
“What's your draw to this place?” I finally asked, just to seal the final uncertainty. Would we work hard together just for him to decide to sell it on a whim? He'd certainly done that in the past.
Mark blinked. “Adventura is home. Forever. I'll never sell my home. I'm going to live on this piece of land and be that smelly old guy the summer camp kids always laugh at because he farts so loud and doesn't realize it.”
Unbidden, I giggled.
He grinned.
And then the decision was made: Mark and I were going to save each other.
Likefriends.
10
Mark
Stella let out a heavy sigh behind me the next morning as we strode toward the commissary, which happened to double as a garage in the winter. We kept most of Justin's supplies in a back room that he'd roped off.
