Garrett Bravo's Runaway Bride. Christine Rimmer

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       Chapter Three

      A curving pebbled driveway led up to Garrett’s house on Mountainview Avenue in Haltersham Heights not far from the hotel. The exterior was weathered cedar and shingles and silver-gray stone, with lots of big windows.

      Inside, those windows let in plenty of light. The modern kitchen and dining room opened onto the living area. Two sets of glass doors led out to a low deck and a patio, complete with a fire pit.

      “What a beautiful house.” Cami set a box from the cabin on the gorgeous granite counter. It had a swirling pattern of cream, brown and silver. “Kind of modern and rustic, both at once.” The vaulted wood ceilings had log accent beams.

      Garrett opened the glass door by the table to let Munch out. “I had it built it a few years ago, when Bravo Construction really started making money.”

      She watched Munch bound off the deck and into the yard. “He won’t run off?”

      “There’s a fence. He’s fine.”

      Together, they brought in all the food. Garrett said he didn’t mind her looking in his cabinets to see where things went, so she got to work putting the food away while he unloaded his clothes and a bunch of random camping equipment.

      “I’m just going to get a load of laundry started,” he said and vanished down the hallway off the kitchen.

      Cami put boxes of crackers and cold cereal in an upper cabinet and then made herself march to the end of the counter where she’d dropped her Birkin bag on the first trip in from the garage. With a grimace of dread, she took out her phone. She’d fully charged it at the cabin and turned it off when they left.

      As soon as she turned it on, there would be a flood of frantic calls, texts and messages to deal with. Up on the mountain, it had been so easy to tune out the real world. Not anymore. The time had come to deal with everyone she’d been trying not to think about. They were going to be very upset with her when they found out that she had purposely avoided dealing with them since Saturday afternoon.

      She was still standing there with the powered-off phone in her hand when Garrett emerged from the laundry room.

      “That is not a happy face.” He put his arm around her.

      She leaned into his solid strength, breathed in his woodsy scent and made herself smile up at him. “I think I’ll just go out and sit on that back deck while I make a few calls.”

      “Anything I can do to help?”

      Take me back up the mountain. We’ll stay there forever, just you and me and Munchy. “Thanks, but I think this is something I need to deal with myself.”

      * * *

      Garrett got busy putting his gear away in the garage.

      When he returned to the kitchen, she was still outside, pacing back and forth across the wide patio tiles, the phone to her ear. Munch, panting anxiously, trailed along behind her. Garrett stood at the glass door admiring the shine to her thick gold hair. How could she be so pretty even in his ill-fitting old jeans and faded shirt?

      When she glanced over and saw him watching her, she gave him a quick wave and went back to her pacing. It looked like the phone calls were going to take a while.

      He finished putting the kitchen stuff away and made them some sandwiches. When she finally came inside, she went straight to the end of the counter and stuck her phone back in her giant purse.

      “You made lunch,” she said, her eyes worried, her smile way too bright.

      “Come on.” He pulled out one of the high padded chairs at the kitchen island. “Everything will look better after you eat.”

      She got up on the stool. “Yum. I’m so hungry.”

      He let her polish off half of her turkey on rye before he asked, “So. Want to talk about it?”

      She gave a tiny shrug. “My parents are furious. They demanded I return to Denver immediately. I told them I’m not coming back except to close up my condo and pick up my stuff.”

      He touched her arm in reassurance. “I’m sorry, Cami.”

      “Yeah.” She forced another sad little smile. “Me, too.”

      “How was it with Charles?”

      “Not much better—scratch that. Worse. He said he had to see me immediately, that we had to talk.”

      “Don’t СКАЧАТЬ