Catch (9 page)

She tried to imagine him scrubbing toilets,
and smiled. “You could have answered all those messages I sent you.
You could have told me a lot sooner what you were doing.”

Hanging his head again, he tensed his
shoulders. “I didn’t think you’d want anything to do with me. My
father was breathing down my neck every second, so I decided I
should try to move on from you, but then I couldn’t stop thinking
about you and I decided to do something about it. I remembered what
you said about safety and risk. The truth is, I think you’re worth
a risk.” He looked up, hope in his eyes. “You looked happy to see
me a minute ago. Are … are you?”

She tried to keep a stern frown on her face,
but couldn’t. Her lips turned upward. “As crazy it sounds, yes, I’m
happy to see you.”

“Good.” He let out a sigh of relief.

“How did you find me?”

“Ah, that. Well, I wrote your sister’s number
down before I gave your phone back …”

“What!” She gritted her teeth, irritated that
Julia had talked to him and not told her.

“Yeah, she told me you were going to ECU and
you’re living in Umstead Hall. I, uh, kind of followed you here to
class and thought I’d just send a message and see what
happened.”

“Uh-huh. Sneaky.”

“Your sister also told me if I broke your
heart, she’d send her boyfriend after me and he’d cut off my
thumbs.”

Bursting into laughter, Miranda thought about
skinny Gavin brandishing a knife at Ollie. Yeah, right.

“She told me about your other boyfriends,”
Ollie said quietly. “I’m sorry you’ve been hurt. I promise if you
decide to be with me, I won’t hurt you like that.”

“Sometimes you can’t keep promises.”

He looked straight into her eyes with the
same laser vision he’d used in the café. “I may have been a thief
at one point,” he said seriously, “but I always keep my
promises.”

She looked away, angry with herself for not
being able to trust him yet—to trust anyone yet.

His serious expression melted. “So, are you
saying you want to try?”

“Maybe … but I’m kinda living here in North
Carolina and you’re all the way in Nevada. Doesn’t that make things
a little complicated?” She knew, deep down, that this didn’t matter
in the slightest. She wanted to know if he thought it might.

“Well,” he said, standing up from the bench,
“I managed to talk my father into letting me get a degree in
business, so I’m only working for him on the weekends right now. I
don’t have classes on Mondays, so I can fly here and see you every
week until we get to know each other better. Then you can decide
how you want to do this.”

She couldn’t stop the snort from leaving her
nose and mouth. “
Fly
here? Every Monday?”

He shrugged and mumbled, “My father’s paying
me enough money to do that.”

“Ah, so you
are
totally rich now.” In
all honesty, she was shocked more by the thought that he’d go to
that much trouble for her than by how much it would cost.

His eyes snapped back to hers. “Not totally.
Please don’t hate me for not being penniless and desperate
anymore.”

She didn’t know what to say. She caught the
faintest smell of sandalwood on him, and took three deep breaths
before inching forward. She tried not to look at his lips and think
about what it might be like to kiss him. She’d thought enough about
it in the past two months to make her sick of it. Now that he was
in front of her, she wasn’t sick of it at all. She relished it,
even if they had nothing figured out yet. It was illogical. It was
crazy, and she didn’t care.

“I don’t hate you,” she almost whispered as
he took her hands and pulled her closer to him. When had he become
comfortable enough to do that with her? It didn’t even matter. She
swallowed. “I’m just worried you’ll be unhappy doing what your
father wants.”

“I’m wearing him down one tiny thing at a
time,” he said as she leaned into him. His heart pounded against
hers. He looked nervous, as if he expected her to rip away from him
any second.

“Well, that’s good,” she said. “I wouldn’t
want you to—”

He kissed her, and she kissed him back. His
kiss was tender and a little hesitant, and she laughed when she had
to tilt her head at a sharp angle so his baseball cap didn’t jab
her in the forehead. He reached up and turned it backwards.

“I have to catch my flight in a few hours,”
he said, and ran a finger down her cheek. “What do you want to do
until then?”

“Can I get my purse back?” she asked,
laughing. It felt so good to feel her body laugh against his. He
smiled and let her go. Picking up his leather briefcase, he turned
toward one of the exits out of the fountain plaza and looked over
his shoulder as he took off running.

“If you can catch me,” he laughed, “I’ll give
it to you.”

How had it come to this? How had she fallen
in love with the guy who’d stolen her purse? It certainly wasn’t
something her grandmother would have done. Or maybe it was. The
memoir wasn’t finished yet, but Miranda looked forward to reading
it and seeing how much of her personality was inside those stories.
In the meantime, she’d just have to stumble along and figure things
out on her own, one step … one risk … at a time.

She grinned and took off after him, yelling,
“You’re on!”

This time, she would catch him.

Michelle lives and
writes in Utah, surrounded by the Rocky Mountains. She adores
cheese, chocolate, sushi, and lots of ethnic food, and loves to
read and write books in the time she grabs between her
sword-wielding husband and energetic daughter. She believes a
simple life is the best life.

ALSO BY MICHELLE D. ARGYLE

Monarch

The Breakaway

Pieces

Bonded

Out of Tune