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“Shouldn’t West get a say in this, Roxy? I mean, he’s not exactly a timid soul in need of protection. He risked his highly trained butt for Uncle Sam, and the NYPD, not to mention the grateful citizens of Bluelick. Maybe you’re worth a little risk, too?”
She shook her head. “He’s a good man, a born defender, but I can’t let him—”
“You can. Roxy, I understand why the situation threw you into a panic, and I get why your initial instinct was flight over fight. You were born on the road—moving along has been your default all your life. But running away isn’t fair to West. Or you. You say you love him. Well, love takes strength and faith. West deserves yours, doesn’t he?”
“Yes. I mean…no.” She let her hands fall to her lap. “I don’t know what I mean. I’m not leaving because I lack faith in West. I’m trying to do the right thing, even if it tears me apart, but now I’m not sure what the right thing is.”
Addy started the car. “What does your heart tell you?”
“My heart only wants one thing—West. But we all know I have a reckless heart.”
The redhead grinned. “Your reckless heart is one of the things I love most about you.” With that, she pulled the wheel hard to the left and executed a U-turn.
Her reckless heart soared, but the rest of her refused to let go of the fear. “Oh, Addy, what if this is a mistake?” Miserable, she raised her eyes to the murky sky and called out, “God? Fate? All-knowing universe? Whoever’s listening, I need a sign!”
…
“Goddammit!” West paced around the front of the truck, paced back, and then, in a useless indulgence of frustration, kicked the blown-out tire that had forced him to the shoulder. This was not a good sign. Luck had been on his side when he’d called the diner to see if he could pump any information from Addy, only to learn from Nadine that Addy was driving Roxy to the airport. He refused to let her get on a plane and fly out of his life without first giving her a guitar that rightfully belonged to her, everything that was in his heart, as well as the peace of mind of knowing she had nothing to fear from either Boudreaux. If she still wanted to fly off to wherever after all that, then…? Fuck it, she’d be getting herself a travel partner. He could be spontaneous, too. They had a decent head start on him, but Addy wouldn’t exceed the speed limit, while he’d been prepared to push the needle into the red the whole way. Which no doubt contributed to him hitting a pothole the size of Texas at ninety miles per hour and annihilating the allegedly run-flat tire that came standard on his pickup in lieu of a spare. If that alone didn’t suggest the universe was conspiring against him, more evidence shown in the fact that, in his rush to get out the damn door, he’d left his phone charging on his nightstand. So now here he stood, stranded on Route 9 with no means of transport, no way of contacting anyone, and nothing to do except play a damn guitar. Or start walking.
The road ahead unfurled like a concrete ribbon through a quilt of green, unperturbed by any movement of oncoming vehicles. The road behind looked even less promising. Help wasn’t going to come to him—at least not anytime soon. Neither was the airport. His chances of success were dwindling, but he had to try. Maybe her flight would be delayed or oversold. Something. Maybe he could catch a ride. He fetched the guitar from the cab of his truck—leaving something like that sitting in an unattended vehicle begged for trouble—spared a glance at the rumbling sky, and started walking.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Dang, this weather,” Addy murmured and flicked her windshield wipers up a notch. Roxy peered through the rain at the road ahead. Reduced visibility had caused Addy to slow, but she slowed even more as the shadowy spires of trees and shrubs at the side of the road started to separate. One of them took the shape of a man. A man carrying a bag, or a suitcase, or…
She blinked and stared harder. “Oh my God. Stop!”
Addy was already pulling to the shoulder. “You asked for a sign, Roxy. I’d say you’ve got yourself a big, neon one right there. I keep an umbrella in the—”
Roxy had no time for umbrellas. She practically hurled herself out of the Caravan, barely aware of the cool shower of raindrops on her skin as she ran toward West. He stopped about six feet away, his expression unreadable, which caused her to skid to a halt. She opened her mouth to say something—anything—but words left her when he extended his arm to the side and cocked his thumb skyward. “Can I catch a ride?”
Her lips wanted to curve, but she flattened them into her best attempt at a stern line. “For the record, hitchhiking is illegal in the entire state of Kentucky.”
His gaze dropped to the ground and then back to her. “I was kind of out of options. Isn’t there some leeway under the law for special circumstances?”
“I don’t know.” Her heart quickened. “Do you think there should be?”
He nodded and held out the guita
r toward her. “Yeah. I do. Especially when somebody simply needs help, I think—”
She bypassed the guitar and ran straight into his arms, relieved beyond measure when they closed around her and he held her tight. Cheek pressed against his damp shirt, his heart beating strong beneath, she closed her eyes and inhaled his scent. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything. I should have, right from the start, but I didn’t want to get in trouble. And after I got to know you, I…I was afraid of disappointing you, of turning out to be exactly the reckless fuckup you’d pegged me as. And I was still hoping I’d escape any consequences of my crimes. Then Randy showed up, and I realized I hadn’t escaped anything. I’d brought it all to your doorstep.”
His big hand cupped her head. “Shh. I know. Roxy, I know everything, and I swear to you you’re not in trouble. I’m not in trouble. I had a chat with the Boudreauxes. Randy, Uncle Billy, and I came to an understanding. Gibson is all yours, as he always legitimately was. I have a check for you, from Randy, for every cent he extorted from you, and his agreement that your so-called contract is null and void. I have assurances from Uncle Billy that he has no debt to settle with you. You’ve seen the last of them. You don’t have to run anymore.”
Stunned, she drew back to stare at him. “Oh my God, West. I can’t believe you did all this. How? Why?”
“Come on, now. I am a badge-carrying member of the Bluelick Police Department. I know how to track down a suspect. I also got some help from Kenny and Dobie. You turned Gibson over to me and asked me to do what’s right, and that’s what I’ve done.”
The moisture burning her eyes had nothing to do with the rain. Deep gratitude, yes, but also… “I’m so ashamed to have dragged you into my mess.”
He hunkered down so they were face to face. “The only person I’m ashamed of is me, for making you feel like you couldn’t confide in me, for pushing you away for so long because I wanted you, and I didn’t want to want you.” Straightening, he pulled her close again. Kissed her forehead. “But over time, that changed. I changed.”
Changed? The word dampened her world just as effectively as the rain, causing the little flame of hope in her heart to sputter. He didn’t want her anymore? His honesty hurt, but she understood. Because she loved him, she needed him to know she understood.
She eased away. “I don’t think things through. I make bad choices. I’m too reckless.”
Dark brows furrowed over searching eyes. Then he closed them and shook his head. “I’m saying this all wrong.” His gaze locked on hers and held steady. “I still want you. That’s never going to change. I want your impulsive soul. Your wide-open heart. I want all of you, forever. I love you, Roxy. For better or worse, rich or poor, sickness or health. I’m in. No matter what that means. I know you’ve got hopes and dreams. I know there’s wanderlust in your blood. You want to go to Hollywood and chase a star? Let’s go. Prefer playing clubs in Nashville? Fine by me. Whatever you need, we’ll work it out. Maybe that makes me the reckless one, but I think this particular moment proves I like getting wet and reckless with you.”
