Page 37 of Love on the Run

But no. Her bag was there on the floor. And her clothes, now neatly folded and smelling clean. God, what happened?

He climbed back down the stairs. Had she left? There was no car. Did she call someone? Who the hell could she call? Did Malcolm get to her after all? Or was this all some kind of elaborate con job? Why him, if it was? She was an actress. Maybe she was just putting on an act. That kiss, calculated? It sure felt natural. But then, an actress would know how to do that.

As he walked through the house, Jake’s suspicions got worse and worse. In the kitchen, he flipped the little light above the stove, yanking his jacket off and tossing it over a chair. The gun in its holster followed. She was gone. That’s all that mattered. He found it oddly hard to breathe. He hated not being in control. It felt too much like when Natalie…

His eyes fell on a piece of paper on the table. He pounced on it. Holding it up to the stove light, he read, “Jake. Bruiser and I are having a campout on the deck. Don’t worry. Callie.”

He let out the breath he’d been holding.Paranoid much, Jake? She’s fine.Then he immediately started to worry again. Didn’t she know anything? He’d seen wolves in his backyard, for Pete’s sake. Sure, Bruiser was protection, but…by this point, Jake had made it to the gigantic window wall at the end of the living room. He looked out and there she was, wrapped in a blanket, with the dog curled up at her feet. Oh. He kept looking, mesmerized by the pale moon of her face. She was breathtaking. And she was perfectly safe. He had to get a grip.

Jake paced the house once or twice, trying to decide what to do. He did not feel comfortable sleeping inside while Callie lay on the deck. Even with the dog, it wasn’t right. A gentleman simply didn’t let a girl sleep unprotected. And it had been a long time since he slept under the stars.

* * * *

Callie murmured in her sleep, then blinked awake. Maybe it was the call of some unfamiliar bird, just waking in the pre-dawn. Or maybe…she felt a sense of warmth beside her. Not Bruiser. The dog was keeping her feet toasty in the cool mountain night. She turned her head and saw Jake stretched out next to her. He was half in a sleeping bag, but she could see he was warmer than she was — what was it about men, that they never got cold the way women did? Jake, or the part of him that showed outside the sleeping bag, wore only a thin tank, and she didn’t shy away from giving him a good once over from the torso on up. Callie smiled in spite of herself. So she’d kissed him when she was almost knocked out? No wonder. He was the kind of man every woman wanted to kiss at least once. Strong, rugged, no-nonsense. Simple in the best kind of way. She wished she could pretend he was hers. Just for a little bit. But reality came rushing back at her. He was not hers, and her life was a mess too big to get out of, even for a little while. She turned her gaze back up to the sky.Star light, star bright. I wish for another life tonight. Callie closed her eyes again, willing herself to dream of a new life.

Later, Jake woke up to find Callie curled up on him, fast asleep. He didn’t know if he’d reached out to her or if she’d done it on her own, but it felt perfect. Too perfect. He watched the dawn take over the sky, slowly erasing the stars. Callie’s head rested on his chest, her hair fanning out all over the place, begging him to run his fingers through it. Her arm lay over his waist, the hand curling under his body in a sleepy, half-hug. God, how nice that was.

He reminded himself that Callie was off-limits, particularly if he wanted to get to the bottom of her situation in LA. He permitted himself to enjoy the hell out of the situation for about ten minutes, listening to the soft breathing of the woman sleeping on him. Then, with many regrets, he eased her off him, moving slowly so as not to wake her up. At any point, he could have leaned over about five inches and kissed her, and he had to struggle not to. Eventually, he got out from under her and scrambled out of his sleeping bag. Thank God they weren’t under the same blanket, he thought. That would have been too much temptation.

Jake stood up, feeling the dawn chilliness despite wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a shirt. It was late summer, and there were hints of fall in the air already. Moving quietly, he headed back into the house. He showered quickly—a cold shower, made necessary by his too-fresh memory of Callie—and put coffee on, wondering what to do next.

Ty had hinted that any situation involving this Foster would be sticky. If Jake guessed right, Callie did know a lot about his activities, and that made her existence dangerous to the guy. She had only narrowly avoided being killed by Foster already. Now she needed to be kept safe until Jake could figure out who she should talk to. If he was involved in drug trafficking, it was a sure bet the FBI would be interested in hearing Callie’s story.

He drank down one mug of coffee, then poured another. He grabbed a scoop of dog food and dumped it into Bruiser’s bowl. The dog came running, easily pushing open the unlatched door to the porch. Jake laughed quietly as the dog chowed down. It reminded him of Callie’s breakfast on the first day.

He looked up then to see Callie had followed Bruiser inside. “Morning,” he said, trying and failing - again - not to notice how lovely she was, especially with her hair tumbling down around her face, and her big grey eyes so soft in the dawn light.

“Hey,” she responded with a sleepy smile. “It got cold all of a sudden, when all the men left me.” She reached down to stroke Bruiser’s thick fur. “You both watched over me.”

“Didn’t mind,” he responded, wondering how he managed to say such an understatement with a straight face.

“It was sweet. Is that coffee?”

“Yeah.” Glad of a distraction, Jake reached for another mug and poured her some. She had already gotten to the fridge and pulled out the carton of milk. “You want something to eat, honey?”

“I was going to volunteer to make pancakes,” she said shyly. She tried to ignore a strange jolt through her body when he called her honey. The endearment was just way he talked, and he probably didn’t think of her as anything special. Why would he?

“Well, I wouldn’t say no to that,” he drawled. At that moment, his cell went off. “Damn. I’ve got to take this.”

He stood up and headed to his room to talk. From the ringtone, he knew it was business. “Brand,” he said shortly. “Hey, Kyle. What’s going on?”

Callie heard Jake’s voice fade out as he stepped into the bedroom. She busied herself with getting the ingredients for the pancakes ready, then mixing the batter. She knew her favorite pancake recipe by heart — it was the only thing from her childhood she could count on, or so it often seemed, especially in the crazy world of LA. She had gotten the first cakes on the large skillet when Jake came back in.

“That smells good,” he noted.

“Do you have to work?” she asked, wondering about the phone conversation.

“No, this is my day off. My deputy just had a few questions. He wanted to know what to do with your car. It’s in the station parking lot now. One of the other boys tried to start it, with no luck.”

“I guess you have to report it?” Callie asked. “How do I handle that? I mean, do I drive it back? I’ve never stolen a car before. I don’t know the etiquette.” She laughed suddenly. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Don’t think about it,” Jake reassured her. “It’s not your biggest worry right now.” He watched as she flipped the pancakes confidently, and then slid two onto a plate. She handed the plate to him, and he sat down at the table, reaching for the maple syrup she’d already placed there. He cut himself a piece and took a bite. “Damn,” he said, after he swallowed.

“Okay?” she asked as she poured more batter on the skillet.

“More than okay.”

“What’s my biggest worry right now?” Callie continued, staring at the pancakes.

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