Page 26 of Runaway Road (Runaway 1)

nger. As far as I know, Katherine is still there, but we lost touch.”

“And Gemma?”

“She found me in Boston.”

“Ah. Did you go straight from Montana to Boston?” I asked.

“Sort of. I made some stops along the way, but nothing lasted longer than a month or two. When I got to Boston, I hadn’t planned on staying, but I met someone. We got married and I stayed. Then we got divorced and I left.”

Londyn sounded as enthusiastic about her former marriage as I was about mine.

“And now you’re on the road.”

She nodded. “Yes.”

I went back to my meal, eating quietly as she did the same, until another question came to mind. “How’d you get the car from California?”

“I called the junkyard owner and bought it. He didn’t remember me at first, but I told him who I was and why I wanted the car. He wanted to give it to me for free but I insisted on paying. Then I had it hauled to Boston and had it restored.”

I whistled, visualizing the price tag. It had to be at least a hundred grand. For a woman without much of an education who’d lived her life on the road, how’d she come into that kind of money? Her husband, maybe?

She tossed her fork into the nearly empty container and closed the lid. “That was amazing.”

“Not bad for a small town in West Virginia.”

“I’m quite impressed with this small town.”

My chest swelled with pride at my home.

Londyn and I sat staring out at the water as the bottom of the sun dipped below the horizon. Night wouldn’t be far off but I wasn’t in a hurry to leave. Londyn didn’t seem to be either, so we sat there in comfortable silence, listening to the water lap against the shoreline and the wind rustle the trees.

When was the last time I’d just sat beside a woman? The last time I’d been alone with a woman who wasn’t a relative or who wasn’t at the shop for an oil change had been over a year ago. A blind date from hell. The woman had talked the entire meal about money. Specifically, my money. She’d wanted to know how much I made at the garage, how much I would inherit from my parents and how much my truck and home were worth.

I’d lost her number before the waitress had delivered our meal.

Sitting with Londyn was different. There were no expectations for conversation. I asked questions not to fill the silence, but because I genuinely wanted to hear her answer. Maybe this was easy because it wasn’t a date.

Londyn was leaving Summers in her rearview as soon as her car was fixed.

The lake reflected the yellow, orange and midnight-blue of twilight as tree crickets chirped and lightning bugs sparked.

“You got more than your fair share of the questions tonight,” I said. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” She tipped her head back to examine the stars above.

I did the same, resting on my elbows. An airplane’s light blinked as it flew past.

“Do you ever wish on a star?” she asked.

“Not since I was a kid.”

“I used to wish on them every night. The top in the convertible wouldn’t raise or lower but the trunk was so wide that I’d lie on it every night and make a wish.”

“Any come true?”

“Some.” She dropped her back to the rock, lying flat. Her hair splayed over the smooth, brown surface. “I got an education. That was a wish. I didn’t want to be the stupidest person in the room anymore.”

“I highly doubt that was ever the case.” I dropped to my back, lacing my hands behind my head.