I was genuinely curious. Tessa didn't know it, but she was the reason I'd dropped my phone. I'd spent most of the buggy ride skipping the sights to poke into her past.
I'd hit mostly the highlights – the master's from U of M, the picture-perfect career, and finally the crash-and-burn that had made her the talk of Chicago for about five minutes maybe a month ago.
But whatreallypiqued my interest was that picture of her with that paramedic. I'd laughed so hard, my phone had gone flying – so I'd told the driver to halt while I'd dashed back to pluck it off the road.
And now, here we were.
Tessa frowned. "Wait…what amIdoing here?"
"Thatwasthe question." Curious or not, I didn't really need the answer. I already knew why she was here.
She was hiding out – a mistake the wayIsaw it.
Me? I didn't hide from anything.It was part of my philosophy. You ride the storm, let people talk, and when they get bored, you walk away clean.
But then, Tessa surprised me by announcing, "I'm not afraid of you."
I laughed. "I wish I could say the same."
She stared. "What?"
"You tried to murder me, remember?"
"Hey! It's not like I pulled out a gun. And you were standing—"
"Crouching."
"Whatever." She gestured toward the horse and buggy. "And where were you going, anyway?"
I saw no reason to lie. "The airport."
"No, you weren't." She pointed vaguely toward the middle of the island. "The airport's that way." She crossed her arms and waited, like she'd just caught me in a lie.
Nope."What, you've never heard of the scenic route?" I made a show of looking around, taking in the blossoming trees, the shimmering blue water, and the wildflowers scattered here and there.
Yeah, it was scenic. And yet, my eyes kept returning to Tessa.
She chewed on her lower lip. "But youareleaving?" Judging from her face, she wouldn't be sad to see me go. And for some reason that bothered me.
But why?
Curiosity?Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, I flashed her my cockiest grin. "Yeah, I'm leaving." I paused for half a beat before adding, "But that doesn't mean I won't be back."
And with that, I turned and began walking toward the buggy. As I moved, I could feel her eyes boring into my back, like she was daring me to sneak a final peek.
I didn't.
And five minutes later, when I was settled back in the buggy, I saw her again – flying past on that bike of hers, with her blonde hair streaming in the wind.
As she blew past me, she didn't even turn to look.
But me?Ilooked plenty until she disappeared around the next bend, leaving me staring after her.
Oh, yeah. I was intrigued, alright.
And I hadn't been lying. Iwouldbe back – and maybe sooner than I'd planned.
13
