I sighed, stuffed the tissue back in my pocket and looked away, unable to add anything else.
“My younger brother, Bishop, used to have panic attacks all the time,” Devereaux said, slowly getting to his feet. “I should be the one apologizing. I saw all the signs at the hotel and I should have put two and two together.”
“There was no way you could have known I’m fucking crazy,” I began, raking my fingers through my hair in a vain effort to get it out of my face, but he waved me off.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m still sorry,” he said. “And you’re not crazy.”
How would he know? What was it with this guy? Did Ireallyneed to make a list of all the ways I was a broken human being?
“But I was being a dick,” I began. “About the plane, the hotel, everything. Even before I spazzed out on you and ran.”
“Maybe,” he smirked at me, humor gleaming in his eyes. “But many of my best friends are dicks, andallof my brothers,” he laughed.
I didn’t know if it was the endorphins from the panic attack, or if his laugh was just that infectious, but I felt myself begin to chuckle.
“I also wasn’t being very understanding,” he continued. “Maybe… maybe we could try this again?” he asked. His green eyes held mine in the dying light and he held his hand out to me.
“Lee Devereaux, nice to meet you,” he said expectantly.
I eyed the outstretched hand, a combination of fear and hope inmy gut. I realized I had a choice. I could stay hidden, stay stuck inside my safe little bubble, hope that I could find a publisher that wouldn’t push me. Or… or I could step up. Take a chance. Do the same thing I told all my fans, be brave.
I slid my hand shakily into his, that same electric shock zinging through me.
“Mason Cameron, nice to meet you, too.”
The smile that spread across his face warmed me to my core, thawing something deep inside me that I didn’t realize was frozen. Lee pulled me to my feet and we made our way back to the cabin.
“So, got a thing about hotels?” he asked as we walked slowly back toward the car.
“You could say that,” I muttered. “Bad memories.”
He just nodded, thankfully choosing not to probe further.
My heart began to speed up the closer we got to the hotel. By some miracle, my laptop and other luggage still lay piled in front of the cabin. In Seattle or Milwaukee it would have been long gone by now.
By the time we got to the car my hands were shaking and I was beginning to hyperventilate. I could feel Lee’s eyes on me as I stopped.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling my throat constrict the closer to the open cabin door we got. “I don’t think I can--”
“S’okay,” Lee interrupted me as he came to some kind of decision. “You’re not staying here.”
Before I knew it, he had grabbed the luggage and loaded it, for the third time, into the back of the Jeep. He opened the passenger door and gently guided me to the seat.
“But where…" I started to protest as he handed me my laptop.
“My place,” Lee said.
5
Lee
It wasa good thirty-minute drive to my home and most of the way was spent in silence. Mason was so quiet that at first I was worried that something else might be wrong, but a glance as we got off the interstate showed him sound asleep, his head resting against the window of the Jeep.
I drove the final distance berating myself silently. My place? Why the hell was I taking him back to my place? I should be dumping him off with the twins, or meeting up with Jon and Anna. They were supposed to be responsible for chaperoning our guest for the next few weeks anyway, couldn’t he stay with them? No matter how many reasons I kept coming up with that this was a bad idea, something kept me heading to my house.
I lived on a wooded lot just outside the Cuyahoga Valley National Park. It was a beautiful three-bedroom home that Mack and I had built before our last deployment, but had never had the opportunity to live in together. On the outside it looked like a log cabin with locally-sourced stone decorating the front. Inside it was about as modern as you could get.
It was long after dark when I pulled into my driveway, and it was agood thing I knew the area so well, or even I might have missed the turn. National parks were not fans of adding streetlights.
