Page 24 of Jason Bourne
24
Jason
The bake sale finally wound down as the sun dipped behind the ridge, splashing the fairgrounds in orange and gold.
I’d barely managed to get Lane away from the wives — she was still holding half a pie Tessa forced on her, plus a mystery jar of homemade jam from Jessa that looked suspiciously potent.
I loaded the loot into the truck while she leaned against the passenger door, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at a gaggle of old ladies packing up the leftover muffins.
She caught me watching her — and the smile she gave me punched right through my ribs.
“What?” she said.
I shook my head, closing the tailgate. “Nothing.”
She squinted. “Don’tnothingme, Bourne. Spill it.”
I shoved my hands in my pockets, suddenly feeling like a kid trying to impress a girl way out of his league.
“It’s just…” I sighed, stepping closer until I could rest my hands on her hips. “I know this isn’t what you pictured. You used to chase bad guys in big cities. Wear your gun and badge like armor. You never stayed anywhere longer than a mission. Nowyou’ve got goats stealing your boots and grandpas handing you pie.”
She snorted. “And your point?”
I cupped her face, brushing my thumbs along her cheekbones. “You don’t owe me this. This mountain. This life. If you want to run again — back to a big city or some shiny FBI office — I’ll go with you. I just want you happy.”
Her eyes softened, so full of fire and stubborn devotion it made my throat ache. She rose on her toes, nose brushing mine. “Hey, dumbass. You think I’d rather be cuffed to a desk in DC, filing forms and ignoring my instincts, than right here with you and Thor and that furry little boot thief?”
I couldn’t help the laugh that broke out of me. “I just don’t want you feeling stuck.”
She pressed her forehead to mine, voice fierce and tender all at once. “Jason Bourne, the only place I ever wanted to be stuck was wherever you are. You are my zip code. Period.”
I kissed her. Slow. Sure. Like a promise I’d never break again.
She pulled back, smirking. “However—”
“Uh oh.”
She poked my chest. “I need ajob.I am not about to turn into one of those mountain wives who bake pies and hunt goats for sport all day.”
I laughed. “So what, FBI desk job from home?”
She rolled her eyes. “No chance in hell. I want something here. Something real.”
Just then, Roy Hayes and Sheriff Keller strolled past, waving at us. Keller paused, eyed Lane, and barked out a laugh.
“You’re Jason’s girl, huh? Brewer, right? We heard you took down two armed traffickerswhile chained up.Impressive.”
Lane blinked. “Depends who’s asking.”
Keller jerked a thumb at the fairground gate. The Sheriff’s Office is currently understaffed with deputies. You want a badge, we’ll fast-track your paperwork. Lord knows we need someone who can scare the locals back in line.”
Lane turned to me, her grin wicked enough to light the dark. “You hear that, Bourne? Mountain law. Sounds like fun.”
I groaned, half laughing, half terrified for my poor neighbors. “God help Fraiser Mountain.”
She threw her arms around my neck, pressing her mouth to my ear.
“Relax.Igot this.”
