Run To You (11 page)

“Are you?”

“Are you?”

He glanced at her. “No.”

She tried not to smile and failed. “No.”

“So, I’m business
and
pleasure?” She put her empty cup in the holder next to his. “Am I busin-sure?” She kind of liked that. “Or pleas-ness?” She liked that better. More romantic.

He glanced at her. “Boots, you’re head goat in a classic goat rodeo.”

She gasped and pointed at herself. “I’m a goat?”

“You’re the head goat.” He laughed like that was funny. “A cute head goat. How is that?”

“I don’t want to be a goat at all.” Her cousin had raised goats. They butted people with their horns and pooped a lot. They weren’t all that cute. “What kind of goat are you?”

“I’m the goat herder.”

She opened her mouth to argue but his phone rang and ended the conversation. He didn’t say hello, just hit talk and said, “Hey maggot.” Then he laughed. Stella supposed that if it came down to it, she’d rather be a cute goat than a maggot.

“About two hours from the Texas state line,” Beau continued.

Two hours
. Two hours closer to meeting Sadie. Stella dug around in her backpack and pulled out her red lipstick. She put it on for something to do with her hands.

“No. From Dallas it’s about another six. I’ll shave it to five.”

Five hours. They’d talked about stopping for the night in Dallas before continuing to the panhandle the next morning. For a few hours she’d forgotten why she was sitting in an Escalade speeding toward Lovett, Texas.

“I’m still on the road, so call the office and leave the intel with Deb.”

About this time tomorrow, she’d be at the JH, her father’s ranch. Now her sister’s ranch. The one place on the planet where she’d always known she was not welcome.

Two hours closer to the Texas state line. She didn’t know whether to be afraid or excited. She was probably both. She drummed her fingers on the middle console and took a deep breath. Either way, her stomach felt all light and queasy like she was going to vomit.

Beau hung up his phone and tossed it on the dash. “Everything that was in your apartment is now in a storage unit in northeast Miami.”

“Oh.”

Beau glanced at the back of Stella’s head as she turned and stared out the passenger side window. Strands of her dark hair fell across her shoulder and down her bare arm. Last night he’d held her soft hair in his hands as she’d used her softer mouth on him. He didn’t know if it was because he hadn’t had sexual contact in eight months, or her, but he couldn’t remember anything that good.

“I guess my car will be okay for a few days until I can get it.”

His gaze dropped to her breasts in a little blue dress before he looked back at the road. Best not to think about her breasts. Not too small. Not too big. Perfectly fit in his hands. Jesus. “Miami is still too hot. The Gallo brothers showed up and tried to intimidate my guys.” He would have loved to have witnessed the two mobsters trying to muscle three Marines.

“They haven’t given up?”

“I guess Lou Gallo is real bitter about his hand,” he joked.

She looked over at him with big blue eyes and full red lips. “Did they learn where I am?”

They were actually more interested in him. “Nah, but they did learn not to mess with pumped-up Marines with serious attitude problems.”

Her eyes got big and looked like they were getting a little watery. “Don’t worry.” He surprised himself again by reaching for her hand. He usually wasn’t
that
guy. In fact, he’d never been the type of guy to pat a woman on the back or shoulder or take her hand like they were friends or something awkward like that. Only with Stella it didn’t feel awkward. More like a chance to touch her. A chance to touch her that he should avoid but couldn’t. “They won’t find you.”

She swallowed hard and reminded him of the other day when he’d found her hiding outside the airport. Young. Scared. Vulnerable. So sexy he wanted to do real bad things to her. Some of which he’d done the night before. Her red mouth, soft and slick on his—

“Pull over. I’m going to be sick!”

“What?”

She rolled down the window and fanned her face. “I’m going to be sick!”

Beau didn’t have to be told more than twice. He jerked the steering wheel to the left and exited the interstate. The SUV skidded to a halt in the middle of a flat grassy field, and the passenger door flew open and Stella jumped out. A rusted-out red-and-white Ford rattled down the exit as Beau got out of the Cadillac. He grabbed a bottle of water and walked around the front. Stella stood with her hands on her bare knees, her hair falling forward like a shiny black curtain.

“Do you need some water?” he asked as he moved toward her.

She nodded and gasped for breath.

“Breathe, Boots.”

“I’m scared.”

“You’re going to pass out.”

She pulled air deep into her lungs and let it out.

“Are you going to puke?”

She straightened and pushed her hair from her pale face. “No. I’m having a panic attack, though.”

“Ricky and his boys will never find you.” He unscrewed the plastic bottle cap handed her the water.

“I don’t want to go to Texas.” She took a drink and it dribbled down her chin.

Texas?

“I can’t go.” She took another small drink and wiped her chin with the back of her hand. “What if she doesn’t like me?”

Stella wasn’t making sense. “Who?”

“Sadie.”

“Sadie?” He moved to stand in front of her and looked deep into her blue eyes. They were still wide and a little out of focus. “This is about Sadie?”

She nodded and took another deep breath.

“Why wouldn’t she like you?”

“I annoy people sometimes,” she said on a big exhale. “I annoyed you.”

“That’s just because I wanted to touch your butt and couldn’t.”

“Seriously?” She licked her red lips and took a drink. “Are you just saying that to be nice?”

“No, I’m not just trying to be nice. And yes, you have a seriously nice butt.” He gave her a reassuring smile and said, “Tell me about Texas.”

A white minivan drove past on the exit while vehicles on the interstate filled the air with tire noise. She raised her free hand to her bare throat and confessed, “I’m afraid to go to Texas, and I didn’t tell you because you’re not afraid of anything.”

She was wrong. He was looking at his biggest fear. Into the blue eyes and pretty face of a temptation so strong he’d given in rather than fight it. He’d broken the rules with her. Behaved less than honorably. “You’re one of the strongest women I know.” He’d never broken his own rules, at least not three at the same time.

“I’m not.” Her hand slid down her tan throat to just above her heart and Beau’s gaze followed. “What if I get there and Sadie can see I’m not good enough?”

His gaze flew to hers. “Not good enough? She doesn’t even know you.”

She closed her eyes tight and clenched her hand over her heart. “That came out wrong. I mean . . . I mean . . .” She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Our father didn’t like me. He never wanted to have anything to do with me. What if I meet her and she’s like him? What if she’s like Clive? What if she takes one look at me and doesn’t want to know me?”

“She wants to see you.” He cupped her cheeks in his palms. “She sent me to find you. Remember?”

She swallowed hard. “One time my father came to New Mexico. I thought he wanted to see me. I thought . . . I don’t know. That he cared about me. He brought me porcelain horses and cowboy boots. I think I was ten or eleven. I don’t know. He stayed for about an hour and I was so happy. So—happy.” Her voice broke but she didn’t cry. “I thought he finally cared about me.” She shook her head. “That’s so pathetic. Worse, I even remember what he was wearing. I remember how tall he looked when he walked out the door, and I remember that I waved but he didn’t look back. Watching him leave broke my heart. I didn’t know it would be the last time I ever saw him.”

Beau had no idea what to say. He had no idea what to do to take the pain out of Stella’s eyes. Anger worked its way up his spine. He felt like a kid again when he’d find his mother crying in her bed or on the floor in the closet. He felt helpless.

“Then I found out he didn’t come that day to see me because he cared or even liked me. He came because he was at a horse auction in the area and he felt obliged to stop by. He just happened to be in Las Cruces and felt an obligation to check in with my mother. Just a meaningless obligation, like the trust fund.”

Beau knew how to survive in the desert or at the North Pole. He knew what to do if he was stranded in the middle of the ocean or pinned down by insurgents. With Stella, he was totally out of his element and had been since the night he’d walked into Ricky’s and seen her in little leather shorts and Amy Winehouse wig.

“What if Sadie just feels an obligation like Clive? What if she walks back out of my life just as easily as her father?”

Beau slid his hands through her hair to the back of her head and tilted her pretty face up to him. He’d broken his rules with her. Since the day she’d run to him with her backpack and duffel, the lines had blurred. The mission got fuzzy. “I won’t let that happen.”

“How?”

He didn’t know, and instead of answering, he lowered his mouth and kissed her. On the side of the interstate in northeast Louisiana. Where rules and honor got fuzzy and nothing made sense. Nothing but her red lips pressed to his.

Chapter Eleven

S
tella stood in the dirt driveway of a white clapboard house and stared at the big double doors with an H burned into the wood like it had been branded. Dogs barked somewhere in the distance, and the bright setting sun cast her shadow onto the edge of the lawn and stone sidewalk.

Her father’s house. Her sister’s house. The house where she’d been conceived but never been welcome. Her fingers tingled and she shook her hands.

Beau’s reassuring palm found the small of her back and his shadow joined hers. “Breathe, Boots.”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can.” His thumb brushed her skin through her new paisley dress and sent a tingle up her spine. “You’ve faced more difficult situations.”

“Like?”

“Ricky. Fat Fabian and Lefty Lou.”

That seemed like an eternity ago. She licked her dry lips and swallowed. “Do I look okay?” They’d been driving six hours and she’d done her best to look good, but her hands had shaken badly when she’d tried to freshen up her makeup on the road between Lovett and the JH.

“You look beautiful, Stella.”

She probably looked more like a scared chicken. She certainly felt like one. Although she didn’t know if chickens got scared. Maybe she was mixing them up with cats. She didn’t know. Her brain was numb. Her chest felt tight. She couldn’t breathe. “I’m nervous.”

“I know, but I’m here. I’ve got your six.”

She looked up into the reflection of herself in his sunglasses. She didn’t know if she looked like a chicken or a cat, but she did look scared shitless. “What’s that?”

“Your back. If you want to leave now, we’ll leave. It’s not too late.” He pointed over his shoulder at the black Escalade. “If you want to leave in ten minutes, I’ll get you out of here.”

In a few short days, he’d become her anchor. Her rock. The calm strength by her side. And in a few short days, he’d be gone. The thought of it made her feel even more panicky. “With flashbang?”

“If that’s what you want. We’ll light it up. Just say the word.”

One side of the big doors opened and a more pressing panic pushed the thought of Beau to the back of her mind. A tall blonde stood in the shadows of the doorway and Stella whispered, “Sadie.” Or maybe she’d just whispered it in her own head. A tall man appeared in the doorway behind Sadie and put his hands on her shoulders.

“That’s Vince,” Beau told her, and pushed Stella ahead a few steps. “He’s a good guy.”

Stella’s feet felt heavy as she put one foot in front of the other and tried to take it all in. The big house. Her sister watching her. Beau’s hand on her back. Her heart pounding in her throat. It was too much. Too much, and she stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Everything slowed, then stood still. As still as Stella. One second. Two. Three. Everything seemed frozen, then she blinked and her sister was moving toward her. Fast.

“Estella Immaculata Leon-Hollowell?”

Sadie stopped in front of her. Close enough to touch. For the first time in twenty-eight years. “Yes.” She waited. Her breath tight in her lungs.

Sadie’s eyes stared down into hers. Looking for something. Looking. “Lord, your name is a mouthful.”

“Everyone calls me Stella.”

Looking into her soul. Waiting. “You have Daddy’s eyes.”

She swallowed. Sadie was stunning. Like her mother, the Texas beauty queen. She was at least six inches taller than Stella and thin like their father.

“I didn’t know if you’d come.”

“I did,” she stated the obvious and instantly felt stupid. Sadie went to college. She was smart. She—

“I’m so glad.” Sadie put her hand on the peach-colored blouse covering her stomach and smiled. “I’ve been nervous as a long-tailed cat.”

“I told you Beau would get her here.”

Stella raised her gaze to the big man sliding his arm around Sadie’s waist. He had dark hair and green eyes and shoulders as big as Beau’s.

“I’m Vince Haven.” He held out his hand toward Stella. “Sadie has been pacing for days. I’m glad you’re finally here and she can relax.”

Stella shook his hand and her chest didn’t feel quite so tight. Sadie had been nervous, too. “It’s a pleasure, Vince.”

Vince raised his gaze to the man by her side. “Beau. It’s good to see you.”

The two men shook hands and Stella felt the loss of Beau’s touch against her back. “How the hell are you, Haven?”

“Good.” He introduced his fiancée to Beau and Sadie’s eyes rounded.

“There
are
two of you,” she said. “Lord have mercy.”

“I’m the good twin.” Beau chuckled. “Is Blake around?”

Vince shook his head. “He’s out raising hell someplace. He’s been staying at my apartment, and I’m afraid to go over there.”

The two men exchanged looks filled with hidden meaning and Sadie motioned for Stella to follow her. “Let’s go inside while these two catch up and talk about the good old days when they slept in swamps and ate bugs.”

Stella glanced back at Beau. “You ate bugs?”

He grinned. “One or two.”

She followed Sadie, and her gaze lowered to her sister’s khaki skirt, long legs, and cowboy boots. They moved through the big double doors and into her father’s house. A chandelier made out of antlers hung in the entry, and worn Navaho rugs covered the wood floors. She looked back, through the door and across the yard. Beau laughed at something Vince said, but his gaze was on her. Touching her across the distance and reminding her of the other places he’d touched her last night. Teaching her things she didn’t know about. Things that stopped just short of penetration and made her lose control. Something she noticed that never happened to him. Not like it happened to her.

“I could use some wine,” Sadie said, and shut the door behind them. “How about you?”

Stella clenched her hands, then relaxed them to let some of the tension out. “That sounds great. Thank you.”

“We’ll sit in the parlor. Don’t let the couch scare you.” Sadie pointed to a room across the entry. “I’ll be right back.”

Stella’s jeweled flip-flops slapped her heels as she walked into the parlor. Another big chandelier of antlers lit the room dominated by cowhide furniture and an enormous rock fireplace. A portrait of a horse hung above the mantel and family pictures sat around the room in heavy frames. The room smelled of lemon oil and leather, and Stella reached for the picture on an end table.

Clive Hollowell with a young Sadie on his shoulders. He looked like Stella remembered. Hard and lean and intimidating as heck. A big smile lit Sadie’s young eyes while Clive looked stone-faced.

“That’s my favorite photo,” Sadie said as she walked into the room. “Daddy is almost smiling.”

Stella set the photo back down and turned. “Thank you,” she said, and took a glass of white wine from her sister.

“I have a million things to ask you. A million things to say.” Sadie’s gaze moved across Stella’s face as if trying to take in everything at once. “But I can’t think of one right now.”

Stella felt the same and sat next to Sadie on the couch. “I never thought I’d be here. Just never thought . . .” She lifted her free hand and let it fall to her lap. “That I’d meet you.”

“Have you always known of me?” Sadie took a sip, her attention locked on Stella as if she couldn’t look away.

Stella nodded. She couldn’t look away, either. From the sister she’d seen only in old news clippings. “My mother told me about you. She was your nanny.”

“I remember Marisol. My mama had just died and Daddy couldn’t abide my crying.” Finally Sadie looked down at the hem of her skirt and smoothed it with her fingers. “So he hired your mama to look after me. I was only five, but I remember she was nice to me and brushed my hair every day. After she left, my hair was usually a mess unless Clara Anne, our housekeeper, fixed if for me.”

That was one thing she could say about her mother. Stella might not have had the most expensive or designer labels, but she’d always been clean and polished. “My mother braided my hair every morning until I was about seven. I hated it.”

“I think I would have liked that.” Sadie looked up. “But isn’t it the way of things. We think we want what we never had.”

What did she mean? Was it a warning not to want too much? “I don’t want anything from you.”

“Lord, I never thought you did. If you’d wanted anything from me, I wouldn’t have had to find a big Marine to track you down.” Sadie took a drink and set her glass on the table. “Knowing Blake as I do, I was afraid his brother might scare you off.”

Stella smiled and took a sip of wine. It wet her dry throat and she said, “He looks kind of scary, but I wasn’t afraid of him.” Oddly.

“Vince told me there was a problem at the bar where you work.”

“Worked.” Her gaze slid away to an antler lamp. “I kind of quit, but I’ll get a new job. Good bartenders can always find work and I make good tips.” She didn’t want to sound like too big a loser so she added, “I’ll probably work part-time while I go to school.” She stood because she was too restless to sit while she boldly lied. “Beautiful horse,” she said, and pointed to the portrait above the fireplace.

“That’s Admiral. He was Daddy’s Blue Roan Tovero. The day Admiral died was the only time I’d ever seen Daddy close to tears.” She moved and stood next to Stella. “Daddy cared for horses more than he did people.”

Stella looked up at her sister. Her sister. She still couldn’t believe she stood in her father’s house looking at his Blue Roan Tovero. Stella actually did know a thing or two about paint horses. She’d written a paper on them in high school because she’d thought they were pretty. “I feel weird being here. Clive never wanted me here.”

“My daddy . . . our father was a difficult man.” Sadie turned her attention to the painting. “I never understood him. I spent a lot of time trying. I spent a lot of time trying to please him, too. I never did.”

“But he
loved
you.” The implication hung in the air, sounding a lot like Stella cared, and she didn’t.

“In his way, I guess.” Sadie shrugged a shoulder and turned to look at Stella. “But if he really loved me, why didn’t he tell me I had a little sister? I had a right to know. I had a right to know you.” Her eyes got a little watery. “I would have reached out to you, Stella. I would have made sure you were in my life.”

“That’s probably why he never told you.” Stella drained her wine. Did she really feel a little bit sorry for Sadie? Her sister who had everything? Not that she cared about things and possessions, but at least their father had loved her. Even if it was in
his own way
. “He never wanted me in his life.”

“That’s just mean. I always knew he could be cold, but that’s just cruel.” Anger tightened her lips. “How could he abandon a child?”

“He made sure my mother had money to raise me.” Was she really defending Clive?

“Well, I should hope to shout. That was the very least he could do.” She turned her attention back to the horse painting. “A few days before he died, I thought we’d gotten closer. We didn’t fall on each other’s necks, and there was no touching Hollywood moment, but I thought we were finally relating on some adult level.” She laughed without humor. “He told me he’d never liked cattle and always wanted to be a truck driver.”

Stella couldn’t imagine the tall, thin man she knew driving the big rigs.

“Like telling me that he’s always wanted to be a trucker was more important than telling me I have a sister. He was sick. He knew he was dying. He was almost eighty, and still he couldn’t tell me? He couldn’t say, ‘I always hated cattle and wanted to be a king of the road.’ ” Sadie paused to hold up one finger. “ ‘Oh, and by the way, Sadie Jo, you have a sister’? I had to discover it on my own when I read his will?” She looked at Stella and again placed a hand on her stomach. “Here I am, getting angry all over again while you have a right to be more angry than anyone.” She took in a deep breath, and the light from the antler chandelier shone in her hair. “More wine?”

“Is the pope Catholic?”

Sadie smiled. “Lord, I hope so. If not, he’s just some old person with a preference for weird hats, like my dead Aunt Ginger.”

Stella laughed. “My uncle Jorge has a sombrero with shot glasses hanging on it like tassel fringe. Some are chipped and broken, but he wears it every Cinco de Mayo. It’s lovely.”

“I could use a shot of Patron.” Sadie glanced at Stella out of the corners of her eyes as they moved down a hall past a fancy dining room with heavy drapery. “Maybe two, but I don’t want you to think I’m a big drinker.”

“Then I’ll pour.”

V
ince Haven had always had an affinity for the Marine Corps. The blood and guts sledge hammers at the point of the spear. Usually the first infantry units to arrive and deliver the big thump. They were tough and mean and convinced of their own superiority. Vince liked that about Marines, even though everyone knew Navy SEALs were the elite within the special operations community. He’d hate to have to physically prove that point to Sergeant Junger, though. He’d cleared a few bars with the Junger boys, then watched in complete bafflement as they turned on each other. Knocking the snot out of each other until they both lay on the ground. Too winded to move, but still arguing over who was tougher, Batman or Superman.

“How long will you be in town?” Vince asked as he leaned his hip into the black Escalade. He noticed Beau check his watch for about the twentieth time in the past half hour.

“I’ll stick around for a few days.” The Marine glanced at the front doors of the JH. “Depends on Blake.”

Blake?
Vince wondered if his brother was the only person Beau was sticking around for, or perhaps a little brunette with red lips? “Did Stella tell you her plans?” Blake had mentioned the fiasco at Stella’s work, and Beau had filled in the rest.

“I don’t know that she’s a planner.” He pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and it was scary how much he looked like his brother. Vince had spent enough time with Blake, in the teams and after, to detect the slight differences in the shape of their jaws and eyes. And of course, Blake had a scar on his chin. “As far as I can tell, she’s more like a dandelion seed. She goes where the wind blows her and takes root.”