Chapter Eight

Griff untangled himself from Suzanne’s little arms as politely as he could. Her mother walked over and put a hand on the little girl’s shoulder with a warm smile.

“Come on, sweetie,” Carla Jenson said. Her gaze bounced from Griff to Laurel and back. Her eyebrow raised slightly, and she smiled awkwardly. “Let the sheriff have fun on his day off.”

“Be good for your mom. Okay, kiddo?” he said to Suzanne as he pushed off his knees to stand up. The little girl beamed up at him.

“Yes, sir,” Suzanne said with a salute, before her mother tugged her daughter away in the opposite direction with the promise of cotton candy.

“I didn’t know cotton candy was German fare,” Laurel said with a look. “But that kid was adorable. She actually made me think I might want one someday.”

“I’m pretty sure that was the slickest move on her mother’s part. Also, it is a festival,” Griff said with a shrug as he let the last part of her comment roll right off him. Or at least he tried. The sudden and unexpected image of Laurel holding their child in her arms assaulted him. This was normally the point where he started seeing what he didn’t like in the other person and why they weren’t ‘the one.’

“Well, it’s not hard to spot the people who work here,” she pointed out, breaking into his thoughts.

“Or the people who are really into it.” Griff motioned toward a family with five kids ranging in age from a six-month-old in its mother’s arms, to a pre-pubescent tween. The entire family was dressed in matching outfits. “Those knee-length pants are called lederhosen.” Three of the boys were dressed alike with their father. The girl’s were identical to the mother. “And she is wearing a dirndl.”

“They’re adorable or completely weird. I can’t decide,” Laurel said with a laugh, and it was the most musical thing to his ears.

“Those terms don’t have to be mutually exclusive,” he said, and couldn’t help but smile back. She had that effect on him. To be honest, it was refreshing that someone could affect him for a change. Every date he’d been on in the past couple of years had been like drinking the same tepid cup of coffee over and over again ad nauseum.

“True enough,” she agreed.

They both chuckled.

“Actually, why do you not own a pair of those,” Laurel said on another laugh.

“Not happening. Ever,” he shot back.

He reached for her fingers and she immediately clasped her hands around his. Contact caused another jolt of electricity to shoot through him, the intensity of which he thought he might never get used to.

“I can take you over to the folk dancing tent next,” he offered.

Laurel balked. “I think I’ll take a pass on that one, unless it’s spectator only,” she said.

“They actually expect you to join in,” he said. He snapped the fingers on his left hand like he was just as disappointed. In truth, he had no intention of getting out on that dance floor unless she dragged him. The offer was for her and her alone. Besides, most of the women he’d dated complained about him not taking them dancing nearly enough.

“Maybe next time,” she said, and then seemed to catch herself. Both seemed to realize this was their only shot at a date.

The thought caused an ache to well up in his chest that caught him off guard. There were so many secrets with Laurel. Although, he’d narrowed the possibilities down, he wished he knew specifically what was going to cause her to bolt. Would she even be in the cabin by morning?

Griff decided not to focus on what he didn’t know and couldn’t change. He had this moment, right now, with her and that was going to have to be enough.

“How about games?” she asked, and her eyes lit up at the possibility and his traitorous heart gave a flip. So much for playing it cool and keeping his feelings in check around Laurel.

“Games it is,” he said, before walking her over to the small midway. “Pick your pleasure.”

“Hmmmm,” she said, like she was seriously considering her options.

“You can throw a softball and try to knock all the steins off the small round table,” he said.

“I always thought that game was a racket. Have you ever seen anyone win?” she asked.

“Back in the day, I might have been able to do it.” He rolled his right shoulder a couple of times like he was warming up to pitch. “It’s all about finding the right spot to knock the steins off. You have to make a clean hit and at the right speed or you’ll end up with a spinner.”

“Sounds like you know what you’re doing,” she said. “Want to give it a try?”

“No promises,” he said.

“This date has already exceeded all my expectations,” she said and then seemed to catch herself a second time. “I mean, this is probably not a real date, like, you are just being kind to the new person in town and—”

“I asked you out,” he interrupted as gently as he could. “To me, that’s a date.”

Her shoulders dropped as she released a breath.

“Good,” she said, “because all I really meant to say is that I’m having a really good time. And I need to thank you for reminding me what that was like. It’s been a really long time since I let my hair down.”

Griff had to resist the urge to dive into the loaded meaning of what Laurel had just said. Little by little, information was coming out. If he was patient and had enough time, he realized she would likely tell him everything of her own accord.

Time.

It seemed in short supply when it came to the mystery woman beside him.

“You’re welcome. I’m happy to hear you’re having a good time. But the night is still young, and I think I can bring my game up a couple of notches,” he said. His chest shouldn’t puff up at the admission she liked him. That was essentially what she’d just said. He liked her too. A whole lot, actually. “Now, let’s see if I can get you one of those koala bears.”

“It’s bigger than my bed,” she teased.

“The higher the risk, the better the reward,” he said as they walked over to the game attendant who was standing in the middle of the booth.

“Come on over and see if you can win a prize for the beautiful lady,” the attendant said.

“Let me see what I can do,” Griff said, before rolling his shoulder a couple more times. He let go of Laurel’s hand so he could do a couple of practice throws without the ball.

“How much does ten dollars buy me?” he asked. The games were still cash and carry.

“That will get you three tries. Throw another ten down there and you’ll get eight softballs instead. What a deal,” the man said. He had on an apron loaded with softballs.

“Appreciate the offer,” Griff stated. “I really do. But if I can’t get it in three, it’s not going to happen today.”

“If you change your mind before you throw the first pitch, the deal is on the table. Once you release a ball, the deal is over.” The attendant looked to be in his mid-forties with a ruddy complexion and a belly that hung over the apron.

“I’ll take my chances.” Griff handed over a ten-dollar bill and the attendant immediately tucked the bill inside his apron.

It didn’t look like the man had a whole lot of business, because this was probably one of the hardest games in the whole place. This, and the ring toss, had always been his nemesis. However, he used to be able to throw a pretty decent pitch and he was about to put his abilities to the test.

“There’s a science to this,” he whispered to Laurel. Most people made the mistake of throwing the pitch too hard, like throwing a bowling ball down the lane. That was not going to be Griff’s game. Surgical precision in where he struck would get him where he needed to go, because the whole point was to get the other steins to help do the work. Too much force and it threw the steins too far. Too light and he’d miss the platform altogether. This game, like many things in life, required finesse.

He picked up one of the balls and stepped up to the thigh-high barrier. One more glance over at Laurel for inspiration, and he threw a change-up pitch with just enough force to tip the bottom steins over. There were five, stacked three on the bottom, two in the middle, and one top. The ball hit two of the steins on the bottom row; the middle and right stein high. Impact caused the steins to topple over and immediately fall off. The second level pair of steins dropped and hit just at the right angle to spin. Both spun off. The last stein, the one on top, dropped almost as if in slow motion. It spun around long ways and made it to the edge of the platter and then slowed. If someone blew on it, it would literally fall off. All Griff’s muscles tensed as Laurel grabbed hold of his forearms. The handle skirted the edge, keeping the stein from toppling off.

Laurel’s fingers dug into his skin as a small crowd gathered around them. The single stein teetered on the edge. Griff had the urge to jump up and down just to shake the ground enough for the stein to topple over.

Just when he thought the stein was going to stop, it tipped over the side. The small crowd cheered as the stein fell off. The group erupted in applause and before he realized what was happening, Laurel jumped into his arms. With her body flush against his, all rational thought flew out the window.

Caught up in the moment and unable to resist the draw to the woman in his arms, he dropped his head down and pressed his lips to hers.

More of that electricity jolted through him at multiple points of contact. His body was a virtual battlefield of impulse to the likes of which he’d never experienced from a simple hug and a kiss. Then again, Laurel was not an average person, so he should have expected this. Well, maybe not this.

She parted her lips and teased his tongue inside her mouth, where he tasted the remnants of sauerkraut and a hint of beer. The sauerkraut tasted even better this way. Don’t even get him started on the beer.

“Your prize,” the attendant said, breaking into the moment happening between them.

Griff opened his eyes and locked onto Laurel’s. In that moment, he couldn’t help thinking that the real prize was in his arms at that very moment.

When the reality that a rather large spotlight was on them sunk in, Laurel wanted to shrink inside herself and disappear. This whole scenario was the exact opposite of keeping a low profile in order to stay out of sight. Being with Griff Quinn, it turned out, was big news and a factor she hadn’t considered when he asked her out. In hindsight, she really should have been able to guess one of, if not the, most eligible bachelor in a small town would draw everyone’s eye. The huge misstep on her part might just cost more than she bargained for.

But the kiss they’d shared was so far beyond anything she’d ever experienced. In that moment, nothing had mattered except the feel of his lips moving against hers and how incredible his hands felt on her. It had been impossible to think clearly. The only thing she was certain of now was that no others would measure up. Ever. Griff’s kisses were the gold standard.

The moment her feet hit the ground, she had to force them to stay rooted when all they wanted to do was run. All eyes were on them, causing her chest to constrict. Griff loosened his grip around her waist as a look of surprise widened his eyes. The knot in Laurel’s chest tightened until she could no longer breathe. The air around her thinned and it felt like the entire crowd was staring at her. She reminded herself to take in a couple of deep breaths as she backed away from Griff, shaking her head.

Laurel looked him straight in the eye and said, “This is a mistake. I can’t do this.”

This whole date was a bad idea. As much as she’d been determined to enjoy this day, she’d failed. Until she was one hundred percent safe, it was too risky to be in such a public place. Going out in the open like this was too scary and dangerous. One of Timothy’s buddies could have tracked her down, or potentially would after this. People would talk about her now and word would get out about her being in Gunner. Folks would have questions and wouldn’t think twice about a stranger coming to town asking seemingly innocent questions about trying to get back in touch with an old friend, or whatever excuse a stalker might use.

Not enough time had passed since leaving Chicago. Laurel took a couple of steps backward, tripped and landed on top of metal. A piece jabbed her in the backside. She glanced around in time to realize she’d just fallen into a baby stroller. She scrambled back to her feet as panic gripped her, waiting to hear the wail of the baby she no-doubt hurt in the process.

Thankfully, the baby was safe in her mother’s arms. The mother, however, was not amused and Laurel couldn’t blame the woman for shooting daggers from her eyes.

The horror and embarrassment of what had just happened caused Laurel to jump to her feet and immediately apologize. Sticking around would only bring more attention to her. She mumbled a few more apologies to the crowd as she back peddled. Then, she took off running in the opposite direction, needing to get as far away from the crowd as she could. The thought of the potential for camera phones to be pointed in her direction, or her image ending up in some viral social media message, caused her chest to squeeze.

Somewhere in the background, she heard Griff’s voice shouting her name. He sounded stunned and now she was horribly embarrassed to face him. What must he think of her that any little noise or attention had her ready to literally jump out of her skin and bolt? That was the thing about trauma. The journey to feeling whole again was fraught with potholes. She’d just stepped in a big one. Plus, the whole going on a date, thinking she was ready for that step, was clearly so misguided. The whole episode set her back even more.

Right man. Wrong time.

Laurel pushed her legs as fast as she could go, dodging in and out of people until she reached the front gate. The exit was right next to it, a giant turnstile with a worker standing to the right. The lederhosen-ed man had a stamp in his fist and seemed to be asking each individual before they exited whether or not they would be returning. Some probably needed to retrieve a supply from their vehicle, but all she could think about was busting through the line to get on the other side of the metal. She reminded herself to calm down and take a couple of breaths. As it was, her thighs burned, her side cramped, and she was not in the right state of mind to make a decision.

In this moment, she couldn’t help but wonder if it would always feel like one of Timothy’s buddies or his cop cousin would constantly be one step behind. Her body involuntarily shivered at the thought. Would she ever be free of their threats? Or was this what her life was going to be from now on? Constantly looking over her shoulder; hiding out in location after location, never truly putting down roots; limiting her life to work and no social life?

It had been nine months since she’d spoken to her best friend Marissa. Nine long months since she’d heard her friend’s voice or listened to how big the twins were getting, and whether or not they’d mastered sleeping through the night.

The line stopped and Laurel did too, barely a second before crashing into the back of the man in front of her. She desperately wished for a temporary reprieve from her racing thoughts that immediately shifted to Griff.

All she could think was that if he’d liked her before, the ship had most definitely sailed now. At least it would be easy for him to write off this date as a bad experience and move on because she was certain she’d just set a record for how much she’d just made the guy regret kissing her. She’d freaked out moments after the best kiss of her life, but it was probably just as well. A relationship between her and Griff couldn’t go anywhere. It had been naïve to think she could stay under the radar on a date with him.

If this line would just hurry up and move, she could get out of here and out his hair for good, she thought as her heart pounded the inside of her ribcage, trying to ignore if that was truly what she wanted.

No. She could be honest about it. Had to be honest about it. The chemistry she felt with him was special and deserved a chance. Dragging him into her drama wasn’t exactly the way to start a new relationship, and tangling him up in her problems could put him in just as much danger.

If embarrassment could kill a person, she’d be dead. Life would be so much easier if she could get out of here, get home to finish packing, and then get on the road. She could figure out her next destination once she cleared her mind and got out of town. All she needed was a direction in which to point. West. She decided to head west and just drive until an idea came to her.

She glanced backward, praying Griff hadn’t followed her. So, of course, there he was, standing ten feet away from her and leaning up against a light post with his arms crossed. He was staring down at his boots and his chest was barely heaving despite what had been a serious run to keep up with her.

The fact he stayed back, even though she took another few steps forward, said he wasn’t trying to stop her from leaving. And then it dawned on her why. They were out in the middle of nowhere at the festival grounds. He was her ride home. This wasn’t exactly an area she could rely on car service. She was going to have to face him again and speak to him if she wanted to go home. He would have questions. He deserved answers.

It was time to swallow her pride and go speak to him. Make up some excuse to… Laurel figured the only way to get through it was to fake it until she could make it. So, she pretended to have confidence she didn’t own and that she wasn’t completely mortified by what had just happened and started walking toward him.

Halfway there, she heard the sound of metal scraping cement. She glanced toward the noise in time to see that a metal basket from one of the kiddie rides had come loose and was barreling toward her, skidding across the cement. Sparks flew.

Griff must have jumped into action because as she tried to leap out of the way—realizing she was about to be smashed anyway—she received a push that allowed her to narrowly escape the blunt force of the cart.

It slammed into a metal light pole, cracking it in half and scattering the small group of folks that had gathered around the exit. Relief that she’d narrowly escaped being hit, was quickly replaced with panic that someone else might not have been so lucky. She skimmed the area for any signs of panic on any nearby faces and saw nothing, other than folks grabbing their children and scurrying far enough away to be out of the way in case of another incident.

No one was hurt. The worst Laurel took was an elbow scrape on the concrete to the backdrop of ear-piercing screams. As she scrambled to her feet, she saw that Griff had taken off after a pair of teenagers who’d broken into a full run. If he hadn’t been there, she would have been crushed by the cart and it would be unfair to bolt out of sight without thanking him, despite her flee response kicking into high gear.

And then the reality of the situation smacked her in the face. Had someone just made an attempt to kill her?

As she followed Griff, she searched for a familiar face in the crowd. Had he found her? Ricky Harris would have a whole lot of resources at his disposal and he’d already proved to be fine with breaking the law despite being a cop. She scanned the faces looking for James too. After all, he’d been the one to visit the diner. Was he carrying out Timothy’s cousin’s work?

By the time Laurel caught up to Griff, he had both teens face down on the concrete. Laurel searched all the faces around them, looking for someone she recognized from back home. In her mind, there was no possible way this could have been an accident—even though she had no idea what the teenagers’ involvement was or why they’d bolted in the first place.

Everyone had moved out of the way but no one else had taken off, running for their lives.

“One of you had better start talking or I’ll arrest you both right here and now,” Griff said to the lanky teens.

“Please. Please. We didn’t know that was going to happen. We thought it was a prank. We didn’t know anyone could get hurt. We thought we were playing a prank on someone. The ride wasn’t supposed to break,” one of the teens said through tears, his face twisted in what looked like absolute fear and anguish.

Both of the teens were visibly shaking at this point and even though their faces were mostly facing the cement, she could see their expressions along with puddles of tears.

One by one, Griff grabbed them by the elbow and pulled them up to a sitting position.

“Put your hands on top of your head where I can see ’em,” Griff demanded.

Both complied.

“What’s your name?” he asked the older-looking teen.

“Ethan, sir,” he responded.

“Last name?” Griff asked.

“Smith,” Ethan said, his voice shaking. “Am I under arrest?”

“No,” Griff asked. “But it would be in your best interest to start explaining what just happened.”

Ethan nodded. “This is my friend Alex Tindell,” Ethan said.

Griff glanced over at the younger teen, who looked to be in shock.

“Do either one of you have any weapons on you, or am I about to find anything else that’s going to incriminate you?” he asked.

“No, sir,” Ethan said.

Alex was vigorously shaking his head as a small crowd formed and cell phones came out.

“I swear on my mother’s life that we had no idea pulling that pin was going to break the ride. Some dude walked past us and dared us to do it,” Ethan said. “We were just being stupid and doing it for attention. If anyone is hurt. Oh my God.”

More tears spilled out as Ethan’s face twisted in pure agony.

“How old are you guys?” Griff asked.

“Eighteen and sixteen,” Ethan said, indicating he was the oldest.

“Tell me more about the dude,” Griff said to Ethan. Of the pair of teens, he had the most composure.

“Some random dude,” the older one said. “He walked right behind us and dared us to pull the pin out.”

“Can you describe him?” Griff said, pulling out his phone and taking down a few notes.

Laurel held her breath waiting for the answer.