Page 21 of The Outpost (Jamison Valley 4)
“Not at all. And you might as well get word to your FBI agent while you’re at it. There’s no reason for them to spend man hours trying to track you down when they could put those toward nailing Federov to the wall.”
I smiled the first genuine smile of the week. “Agreed. Good idea, Goliath.”
He grinned. “Thanks.”
This plan settled some nerves but not all. Even if I notified my family and the FBI, there were still plenty of things still up in the air. Depending on how long I was here, the life I returned to in Seattle could be very different from the life I’d left.
Would my landlords hold my apartment for me? If they thought I was dead, would I go home to strangers living in my home? What about my job? My boss was making do with too few reporters as it was. Would I be unemployed soon?
I swallowed a dry laugh.
This wasn’t the grandeur I’d once imagined.
While I’d been writing the Federov story, I’d imagined how my life would change after its publication. I’d pictured myself getting award nominations and personal accolades from the justice department. I’d seen promotions and pay increases at the paper. I had dreamed of being a modern-day heroine.
Anton Federov had checked my ego.
Never had I imagined that things could have gone so terribly wrong.
/> “What now?” Beau asked.
“Huh?”
His eyebrows furrowed. “You were fine a minute ago and then the smile fell right off your face. What’s rattling around in your head now?”
“I was just thinking about all the stuff I left behind.” I confessed my worries and he sympathized, but unfortunately, where he’d offered a solution to my other concerns, there wasn’t much either of us could come up with this time around. Nevertheless, it helped to talk it out.
Beau was a skilled listener, and even though I’d only known him for a week, I trusted him to dole out honest advice. He had my full respect. I couldn’t think of the last time I’d dated a man as admirable as he was.
He could have pressed it earlier this week, taken advantage of my vulnerabilities and attraction for him. Most of my ex-boyfriends or ex-lovers would have, and god knows, I wouldn’t have put up a fight had he dragged me to his sleeping bag. But that just wasn’t Beau Holt’s style.
I liked that. A lot.
“Thanks, Beau.”
“Anytime.” He bumped me with his enormous shoulder. I was sure he only intended me to sidestep a bit, but the jolt sent me flying. If not for his quick reflexes, my ass would have landed in the grass and dirt.
“Fuck. Sorry,” he said, standing me up. “Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head and giggled. The sting in my ribs was nothing to make him feel bad about. “Let me guess. You don’t know your own strength?”
He laughed too. “Something like that.”
My breath hitched a bit at the wide smile softening his face. Our eyes locked, but before it lasted too long, I broke away and started walking again. Why did he have to be so hot? Being trapped here with a mullet man or booger eater would have been so much easier. Well . . . maybe not easier, but certainly less tempting.
Beau and I crossed the remaining distance to the edge of the meadow and eased back into the shadow of the trees. I instantly missed the sunshine and challenged myself to come out on a more regular basis. Maybe I’d even offer to help Beau with his projects. With the awkwardness from the last seven days gone, I could embrace his company instead of avoiding it. After all, soon I’d be alone. I needed to soak up his company while I still had it.
“What do you feel like for dinner?” I asked as we approached the outpost.
“Let’s take a drive first. Go ahead and hop in, I’ll be right back.” Beau called for Boone and the dog came sprinting over.
A drive sounded like a nice way to pass the rest of the afternoon and it wasn’t like my e-books were going anywhere. I had enjoyed my walk through the meadow and wouldn’t mind seeing more of the area. At night, the wilderness still scared the crap out of me, but during the day, the mountains and trees were kind of majestic.
Beau and Boone got in the truck and the dog settled right into my side. He, much like the rustic scenery, was growing on me.
I rode quietly as Beau drove us through the trees. We weren’t on a road and I said a silent prayer that he would be able to find his way back to the outpost. When he pointed the truck up a narrow and extremely steep hill, I gasped and gripped my door handle while my heart jumped into my throat. The truck was inverted at such a steep angle it was akin to a rollercoaster riding up that first terrifying incline before the inevitable plunge.
Please, truck, don’t roll over. I really wanted to live to my thirty-fifth birthday.
