Chapter Twenty-One

Addie

It feels like forever before Cliff finally tells me I’m safe to sit up. But I do more than sit up; I climb up into the front seat beside him and take his hand. Placing his palm on my thigh, I stare out the windows while enjoying the warmth of his touch.

His fingers tighten on my thigh, and I sigh. This feels right. Out the window I see trees flying by. The drive is so peaceful. Here and there sunlight splashes down on the road and trails over the truck.

The sunshine is warm and the shadows chilly, creating an interesting effect that confuses my body. I’m too warm in the sun, too cold in the shadow, and they change so fast I feel like I’m having hot and cold flashes.

“You’re sure no one will find us out here?” I ask, worried.

“I’m still not sure who turned us in,” he says, and I sense it’s eating him alive.

“So someone could still find us,” I say, slumping back in my seat, feeling dismay wash over me. His hand tightens on my thigh just a bit, then relaxes. I look over at him and see his jaw is tight and his cheek working like he’s clenched so hard it hurts.

“I’m going to keep you safe no matter what,” he grinds out, and I nod.

“I know. I trust you,” I say softly, linking my fingers with his on my leg. “This wasn’t your fault,” I say, and he shakes his head.

“I’m missing something,” he says, and I know he means that there’s no way he doesn’t know who did this, he’s just drawing a blank.

“We’ll figure it out,” I say and lean over to press a kiss on his cheek. “I don’t want to think about it anymore. I want to spend our time just enjoying each other.”

He glances at me out of the corners of his eyes, and I see his jaw tighten again.

“There’s still something I want you to do,” I say, lowering my voice. He swallows, and I know I’ve got him cornered. “So not another word about anything else, okay?” I say, and he gives a nod after a moment of consideration.

A house comes into view, and I gasp. It’s beautiful. A log home that’s easily two stories with so many windows that the inside must be mostly sunlight and beauty.

On the other side of the house I see a lake, and the trees ring in close and give the place privacy. A dock stretches out into the lake, and I turn to Cliff.

“This place is beautiful!” I say, and he flashes a rare grin my direction.

“I’m glad you like it,” he says, getting out of the truck. I get out on my side, looking up at the place in awe. It’s easily the prettiest house I’ve ever seen. Around the place ivy climbs the walls, and moss leaves the ground a verdant green.

It’s incredible.

Cliff slips his hand in mine and leads me to the door. He’s quick to reach above the light on the porch and produces a key. He opens the door and pushes it open for me. I walk in, my eyes traveling up as I step into the place. I’m under a loft-looking area, with a kitchen to my left and what looks like rooms to my right.

This space is open and airy, beautiful and sunlit. The wooden beams are honey colored and shining. The floor is concrete that’s been treated and stained a beautiful cream and coffee colored with a sheen to it that’s breathtaking.

Cliff comes in behind me, and his hands find my hips as his lips touch my neck. Then he’s off toward another room, and I follow him. “Guest bedroom and main bath,” he says, showing me the area that I’d thought was a bedroom.

I peek in, loving the view of the lake and the comfortable feel of the place. We leave and he shows me the kitchen.

“Where the magic happens,” I joke, hearing my stomach grumble a bit. We’ve been on the road for hours, and before that we’d had breakfast and nookie.

I’ve been without proper food for way too long.

He nods, his eyes twinkling with humor as he leads me out to the great room, where the ceiling soars overhead and windows line the entire wall with wooden beams between them to hold them in place.

The lake beyond is blue and sparkling, a beautiful contrast to the honey and creamy coffee colors inside, as are the green trees and plants outside.

It’s picturesque. Beautiful. Perfection.

Turning to Cliff, I breathe, “I love it!”

On the wall facing the water, there’s a huge open fireplace that’s inviting even when there’s no fire. Around are couches, love seats, comfortable-looking chairs that tell me this is a family gathering space to talk, to laugh, to love and play.

I bet there’s a family that eats here, that gathers and just enjoys life. How could you not love life in a house and its surroundings like this?

He takes my hand and leads me up the stairs to the loft area. The great open area around us feels huge and open, but the loft with the pointed loft ceilings also feels large.

“Master bedroom,” he says, leading me into a beautiful bedroom. The bed is an enormous four-poster thing with sheer curtains draped over it. I see a couple of doors, and Cliff is quick to show me closets and the master bath that’s obviously been updated and modernized through the years.

The master bath has a beautiful garden tub complete with jets and a glass shower box with an overhead shower that’s big enough to cover almost the entire space. There are even nozzles on the wall that look like they’re there to spray straight out.

“There’s also an outdoor shower that I love,” he says, his voice dark with a promise that I’ll love it too.

“Did you grow up here?” I ask, wanting to learn everything there is to know about this place.

“Off and on,” he says. “It’s a family vacation home, so we didn’t live here year round. This was where I spent every summer, though.”

I imagine a serious young Cliff with navy eyes swimming off the dock and fishing, boating, and enjoying family time. His eyes tell me he enjoyed his time here, that it’s a soft place in his heart, and I can’t help but thank him for bringing me here.

“Thank you for sharing this with me,” I say, taking his hands as we stand facing each other at the top of the loft stairs.

“Thank you for coming here with me,” he says, his tone as serious as mine. And for just a moment, it feels less like we’re on the run from the insanity that has shadowed my life and more like we’re a couple here to get away from the world and just enjoy each other.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” I say, and his eyes narrow just a fraction. I continue before he can stress too much about what I mean. “I got attached. You told me not to. But there’s just something about you, Cliff.”

His lips meet mine in a sweet kiss that feels like coming home.

I expect him to push me away like he has every step of the way. But he doesn’t. He pulls me closer and holds me tight as the kiss deepens. We savor each other. The kiss is wonderful, as is the sensation that this is what he wants—me.

In this beautiful place, I feel safe. With this man, I feel like I’ve found where I belong.

I break the kiss and plant a tiny one on his lips, then another as he presses his forehead to mine, and his lips curve into the barest hint of a smile.

“I’m starving,” I say, and his chest rumbles with a laugh.

“Well, in that case I better feed you,” he says, and I nod.

“That would be best,” I say as he walks toward the kitchen. I follow, still loving this place more than I’d like to admit.

“So who built this house?” I ask, desperate for answers to the history of this place.

“My great-great-grandpa,” he says, giving me another Cliff special short answer that really doesn’t satisfy my need to know more.

“So it’s been in the family a long time?” I ask, touching the stainless steel fridge. The kitchen is modern and shows that this place is absolutely a family space. The fridge and freezer side-by-side combo is huge.

The range is also stainless and has six burners. There’s an oven and what looks like a baker’s convection oven, but I don’t see a microwave.

“Who taught you to cook?” I ask, and he glances over at me from the mushrooms he’s slicing. “Who stocks this place?” I add, and he grins.

“My mother and I called in a favor to have it stocked.”

“You don’t really talk much, do you?” I say, teasing, and he arches an eyebrow at me.

“I do if I have something to say,” he says casually, and I nod. That’s a fair thing to say. His quiet doesn’t bother me, not at all. I don’t mind that he doesn’t just chatter about nothing. In fact, I love that he’s so serious with words, and careful how he uses them. I can trust anything he says, and that’s a rare treat.