She studied him, relaxed, a tiny grin still on his face while he cleaned up the board and allowed her to pout. He'd changed into running shorts and a tank top that showed off his carved arms and cut shoulders. His skin was a lovely golden brown from the sun. Funny, any woman would be going nuts right now to be alone with him, in front of a roaring fire, in a deserted cabin. He was a walking, talking sex god, and here she was, playing Scrabble in her Walmart clothes, with no makeup and crazy hair.
It was pretty awesome.
Sleepiness began to claim her again. She leaned her head against the side of the couch and yawned. "I hate losing."
"I know."
"You won fair and square. I'm yours for the taking." His brow shot up. "For a secret, I mean. Mind out of the gutter, please."
"Was just concerned you wanted to end your anestrous state."
She couldn't help it. Gen threw her head back and laughed. "One day. Not tonight."
"Good to know." She waited for his question, knowing it would be about David. How sad it was that she'd begun shutting Wolfe out under her fiance's demands. Soon she'd need to admit her wrong and hope Wolfe could forgive her. Now, at least, she could offer the truth for anything he wanted. "What was the thought that crossed your mind right before you decided to jump out the window?"
The question threw her off. Wringing her hands, she thought back to the one critical moment before she ran. Before she blew up her controlled, perfect, orderly life. And told the truth.
"I used to have this inner voice that would talk to me. Tell me things. Either my subconscious or gut, not sure. I got used to trusting it. But after a few months with David, it started to become quiet. At first I thought it was because I didn't need it anymore. I had the man I loved. But then I realized the loss was dangerous, because I was just afraid to listen to it anymore. The voice died." She sucked in a breath, trembling. "Right before the wedding, I heard it again. The voice kept telling me one thing over and over."
"What?"
"Run," she said simply. "So I ran."
The emotion hit her hard. Wrung out, sad, confused, she slumped on the couch, not able to keep up her defenses any longer. Quietly, Wolfe got up and disappeared. Came back with a pillow. He laid it gently under her head, tucked the covers around her, and smoothed her hair back. The tenderness of his touch made a purr sound deep in her throat. She closed her eyes and welcomed the darkness, where nothing else mattered and no thoughts were needed.
"The voice was right, sweetheart. It always is. And thank God you listened."
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, but she was already sinking into sleep.
seven
WHERE ARE WE going?"
After she'd moped around a bit, Wolfe declared they were going on a road trip to keep her mind occupied. After more cereal, and some grumbling, she agreed and climbed into the car.
"A place where dreams come true."
"In a tiny hidden upstate town? Wait--is it the spa? I'd love that! We can do dual massages and mud body baths to release toxins. Arilyn has been begging me to do one but I haven't had the time."
"Not the spa. You couldn't pay me enough to put mud on my body and release anything. I happen to like my toxins."
"Oh." She buckled her seat belt and thought hard. "Shopping? Women love shopping when they're depressed. Not that I'm a big shopper, but I'd be willing to try it. I do love shoes."
"I don't. I want to have fun, too, not be slowly tortured by girly shit. This place will cover both of our needs."
"Fine. You gonna tell me?"
"Nope. First rule of the road--keep on going and don't look back." The shadow over his face told her he'd experienced pain she couldn't imagine. Gen didn't want to. Right now, she trusted him to do what was right. The security of such trust humbled her, but if she tried to express it he'd only shrug the whole dialogue off and get embarrassed. Instead, she accepted his direction for the second day and nodded. "Then I'm ready to find out."
"Let's drive."
The rain had stopped in the middle of the night. The day was hot, the top was down, and Gen let the wind tear at her hair, whip her face, and bathe her in sensation. Blue sky whizzed by streaked with cotton-ball clouds. Once again, there wasn't a lot of talking. Wolfe pumped up the radio as Imagine Dragons sung about demons and they headed into town.
The memory hit hard. David driving toward Newport for a getaway weekend. The excitement that curled in her belly, knowing they'd finally be alone without hospital beepers or prying eyes. She'd stared at his godlike profile and wondered again how she'd gotten so lucky to have him notice her.
The car had hit something in the road and the tire blew out. They'd spent hours on the side of the road, on Memorial Day weekend, waiting for Triple A. Gen was used to mini disasters and approached life with a sense of humor. But as she watched David get more and more surly, the knot in her stomach began to tighten. When the car was finally fixed, he'd accused her of flirting with the mechanic. Told her if she hadn't been distracting him, he would've seen the debris in the road. The attack was finely launched, with cutting sarcasm but delivered with an angelic grace that confused her. By the time they got to the bed-and-breakfast, she was apologizing and not really understanding what it was for.
It was only the beginning.
Gen rubbed her arms, suddenly peppered with gooseflesh. Why hadn't she seen the manipulation before? Had it always been lurking? Their relationship unfolded so fast it was hard to keep up, but he consistently told her how much he loved her. Wanted to protect her. Wanted her to do well in her career and as his mate. How could that have been bad?
Bad enough you escaped through the church window, her inner voice snapped. Bad enough every night he came home you were a nervous wreck, making sure you did everything perfectly.
Not now, she answered. I'm not ready for this now.
Fine. But when you are, I'll give you some hard truths.
"Are you cold? I can put the top up."
Gen turned. He stared at her with assessing eyes. "No, I like it. Just the crazy voices in my head screwing with me again. I'll be fine."
He nodded. "Get them all the time."
"What do you do to make them stop?" she asked.
Wolfe concentrated on the road, but she knew he saw much more. "Make the music louder."
Gen smiled. And cranked up the volume.
When they finally reached their destination, Wolfe slowed to a crawl, inching toward the racetrack. Horse racing? Ugh. Why hadn't she guessed? She hated gambling; she always lost.
"Really, dude? First my groom, now all my money? This isn't fun," she said glumly.
He sent her a sharp glare. "Has anyone ever showed you the true beauty in horse racing? The adrenaline rush? The pounding of horses' hooves as they break away from the gate? The screaming of the crowds? Saratoga Racetrack is one of the most famous, and the home of the great Travers Stakes. Champions have raced here, and people travel from all over to be a part of it . . . Are you yawning?"
She delicately patted her mouth. "I went horseback riding once and didn't like it."
He rolled his eyes. "You won't be riding these horses. Just betting on a winner. Though you're probably the right size to be a jockey."
Gen huffed out a breath. "That was low. I thought you liked making money, not losing it."
"I never lose at the track."
"I'm gonna be bored. This is gonna be just as bad as the fishing disaster."
"Get moving, Gen."
She did, sighing and whining a bit and dragg
ing her feet like a cranky toddler. The crowds were lined up and streamed from the sidewalk, chattering with enthusiasm. Rolled-up books were tucked under their arms, and they pointed tiny pencils at the pages, talking odds and breeding and trainers. The tangy scent of earth and horse manure rose to her nostrils as she and Wolfe paid and walked through the elaborate wrought iron gates.
The scene surprised her. Instead of a bunch of men smoking and huddled around a small track, it was like a slice of old-town America burst around her. Concession stands selling homemade lemonade, hot pretzels, and various snacks were set up along the twisting sidewalks. A festive band played at the entrance, with children dancing and laughing to the beat. Large trees shaded areas of picnic benches where television monitors were scattered about. The air practically sizzled with energy while the broadcaster spoke about scratches and listed the horses in the race with both advantages and disadvantages. Women dressed in gorgeous dresses and elaborate hats strolled past her in elegant glory. Funny, it felt more like a picnic event than a dirty track.
"How could hard-core gambling attract so many wholesome family members?" she asked, trotting after him. He bought two racing forms, some pencils, and a large cup of lemonade. Then headed toward a bench.
"Because horse racing is a respected sport. August is the only month the track is open, so many families stop here on vacation on the way to Lake George. It's one of the only tracks you can see the jockeys and horses up front and stand right near the gate to see the race."
She sat next to him and took a large gulp of lemonade. It was tart and sweet at the same time, and she licked her lips with enthusiasm. At least she'd eat good here. "Okay, so what do we do?"
He studied the book for a few minutes, tapping the pencil. She kept quiet and waited for the elaborate plan. "We bet. Did you bring money?"
Gen blinked. "I left in my wedding dress, remember?"
He winced. "Oops, sorry. I'll front you for today."
"Oh gee, what a great friend."
"But that means I get ten percent of any money you make."
She released the straw from her lips and gasped. "That's not fair! That's robbery! What type of person are you, taking advantage of the weak and uneducated?"
He kept his gaze trained on the book, muttering under his breath as his pencil made scratches and notes in the margin. "You're the strongest woman I know and wicked smart. You'll be taking advantage of me by the end of this day."