Garrett Bravo's Runaway Bride

She looked over her shoulder and met those melty eyes. “Take this thing?” To her, the dress represented all that was wrong in her life. It wasn’t even her style, so poufy and traditional. Her mom had coaxed her into choosing it. “I don’t think there’s room for both it and me in here.”

He had soft lips to go with the melty eyes. Those lips turned up slightly. “Uh. Sure.” He was looking at her kind of funny, like he still didn’t quite know what to make of her—which was nothing new. People often looked at her that way. Maybe he was thinking she shouldn’t be so quick to take off her dress in front of him.

Well, maybe she shouldn’t. But then again, why not?

She trusted him. He’d been nothing but kind to her, helping her all he could while at the same time respecting her wishes. Never once had he bullied her to do things his way. This man was not going to make a move on her—or if he did, he’d already proven that he understood the word no.

Cami dropped the dress. It plopped around her feet like a parachute, belling out, then collapsing. Underneath, she wore a tight white satin bustier that ended in ruffles at her hips. She’d thrown her silk stockings away back down the mountain somewhere. There hadn’t been much left of them after she dragged herself up to the road. As for her five-inch Louboutins and her giant half-slip covered in a big froth of tulle? She’d dumped those during the trek up out of the ravine.

The bustier, with satin panties underneath, covered her as well as a swimsuit would. It also showed the long, pale scar cutting down the outside of her right thigh—but she’d never been the least sensitive about that. She considered it a war wound, proof of an earlier attempt to escape a life that was always a prison for her.

Stepping free of the acres of dirty white lace, she held it up to him. “Burn it, will you?”

He took it gingerly. “What will you wear?”

“I don’t even care.” Unfortunately, she’d left her suitcases in Denver—turned them over to Charles yesterday to load into the limousine. She had nothing but the dress and her underwear, but she would go naked before she put that thing on again. “Burn it.”

“Up to you.” Garrett backed into the main room and shut the door.

Cami turned to the barrel tub and flipped on the taps.

* * *

Garrett had just doused the fire for the night when he heard the cabin door open.

Munch ran up the steps to greet their surprise guest as she emerged from inside wrapped in a towel. The light from the cabin outlined her curvy shape in gold as she knelt to give Munch the attention he’d come looking for.

As Garrett mounted the steps, she rose. “Thank you. Really. I feel so much better now.”

“Good—and it’s past midnight. You think you could sleep?” With a soft sound of agreement, she turned and went back inside. He and Munch followed her. Garrett shut the door.

She faced him with a sigh. “Did you burn it?”

“It’s nothing but ash.” He dropped to the old bentwood chair by the door and started taking off his boots.

When he looked up again, she was still standing there wearing a wistful smile. “Thanks.”

“Any time. You want one of my shirts to sleep in?”

Her smile turned radiant. “Yes, please.”

He got a faded Pearl Jam T-shirt from the dresser and handed it over.

“Thank you. Again.” She disappeared into the bathroom, emerging in the shirt that covered her to midthigh.

There was another awkward moment and it came sharply home to him that he didn’t know this woman at all. They were two strangers about to share the same sleeping space.

“I’ll just take my turn in the bathroom.” He eased around her, went in and shut the bathroom door. Hanging on the back of it next to his sweats was that sexy corset thingy of hers. It struck him all over again how bizarre this whole situation was.

When he came back out wearing the sweats, she’d already stretched out on the couch. She was settling his old afghan over herself.

He moved a few steps closer. “Cami, take the bed.”

“No way.” She wiggled her toes under the blanket and adjusted the thin throw pillow under her head. “This couch isn’t big enough for you and we both know it. Your feet would be hanging off the end.” Munch made himself comfortable in the space between the rickety coffee table and the sofa. She put her hand down and stroked his spotted coat. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not budging.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Oh, yes, I will. From this day forward, I will be suiting the hell out of myself, just you watch me.”

He got the extra pillow from the bed and gave it to her. “You’re allowed to change your mind. If you can’t sleep on those lumpy cushions, I’ll trade with you.”

She yawned hugely. “’Night.” Pulling the afghan up under her chin, she shut her good eye.

* * *

In the morning, her black eye had opened to a slit and she refused a fresh ice pack for it. “It’ll be fine,” she assured him. “I’m a fast healer.”

He put a couple of logs in the woodstove to get the coals going again and made coffee and scrambled eggs. She shoveled it in like she hadn’t eaten in weeks, and he felt ridiculously pleased with himself to be taking good care of her.

But then he said, “After breakfast, I’ll drive you down the mountain.”

She guzzled some coffee. “You said you were staying for three more days.”

“Cami, you really need to—”

“Uh-uh.” She showed him the hand. “Don’t say it. Don’t tell me what I need. For the rest of my life, I decide what I need. And what I need is to stay here with you and Munch until you have to go.”

“But you—”

“Not going. Forget it. I need a few more days up here in the peace and the quiet before facing civilization and calling my parents to say I’m all right.”

“They’re probably really worried about you.”

“I know.” She chewed on her plump lower lip and looked away. “And I feel bad about that. But right now, I need this—you and me and Munch up on this mountain with nothing to do but breathe the fresh air and appreciate the big trees.” He marshaled his arguments, but then she leaned across the rough surface of the table and begged him, “Please, Garrett. Please.”

And he could not do it—could not tell her no. “Damn it,” he muttered.

“Thank you,” she replied, extra sweet and so sincere.

He got up to pour them more coffee. “So then, what do you want to do today—besides breathing and staring at trees?”

She dimpled adorably. “I’m so glad you asked. See, I left the church without my suitcases, but I did have my purse, with my credit cards and my driver’s license. I don’t know what I was thinking when I finally got my car door open and started climbing up to the road. I left my purse behind. I was hoping we might go back for it.”

* * *

Garrett gave her his flip-flops, another shirt and a pair of his jeans to wear, with an old belt to keep them up. She wore that corset thing under the shirt for a bra. He knew this because he was a man and thus way too aware of what went on beneath a woman’s shirt.

They piled in the Jeep, with her riding shotgun and Munch in his favorite spot all the way in back. More than halfway to the state road at the base of the mountain, she said she thought they’d passed the place where she went into the ravine. He turned around the next chance he got.

She found it on the way back up, recognizing a Forest Service fire danger sign a few yards from where she’d gone off the edge. There was enough of a shoulder to park by the sign.

Before he could tell her to leave the dog in the Jeep, she let him out. Panting happily, Munch followed her to the edge.

“This is definitely the place,” Garrett said, taking in the skid marks. He came up beside her and peered over the edge. Her car had flattened everything in its path as it went down. It seemed impossible that she’d survived the crash and the tumble into the ravine. “You were lucky to be driving that Beemer.”

She made a sound of agreement. “Handles like a dream and one of the safest cars around. I’m going to miss it.”

“I can see the car.” The vehicle was half-buried in underbrush, but twisted metal and shiny red paint gave it away. “What’s that?” He pointed at something white and poufy halfway down.

“My slip. It was hard enough climbing with the dress. I kept tripping, so I took it off and left it.”

“You want it?”

She looked at him, her expression severe. “No, I do not.”

The incline was close to eighty percent. It would be steep going, but there were lots of trees and bushes to hold on to. He figured he could make it down there, get whatever she wanted from the car and get back up without too much trouble. “Anything else you want besides your purse?”

“There’s a notebook and some pens in the glove compartment. I would really like to have those—oh, and my engagement ring should be in there, too. I should give it back to Charles.”

“Anything else?”

“My old red hoodie might be in the trunk. I could use that, if we can get it open—oh, and there’s a hatch through to the trunk in the back seat, so maybe...” She let her voice trail off on a hopeful note.

“I’ll try. Take Munch and wait in the Jeep.”

“What?” She set her stubborn chin. “I’m going with you.”

Had he expected that? Yeah, pretty much. “Not in my flip-flops that don’t even fit you. Your poor feet are cut up enough already.”

“But I—”

“Stop, Cami. It’s not a good idea and I think you know it’s not.”

“It just seems wrong to make you go alone.”

“I’m dressed for the job and you’re not. It’ll be simpler and safer if I do this myself.”

She mouthed a wistful thank-you at him and turned back to the Wrangler. “Come on, Munchy.” With a happy whine, the dog jumped in.

“This shouldn’t take long,” he reassured her as she climbed up to the seat and pulled the door shut.

He started down. It was not only steep, the ground was thick with roots, rocks and debris. Past her big, white slip, he found one white satin shoe and then the other. The soles were red, the high heels covered in dirty rhinestones. Cami hadn’t asked for them, so he left them where they lay.

The car was upside down and badly bent and battered, the driver’s door gaping open, the trunk crushed in. The cab, though, was intact. He pushed the deflated air bags out of the way and looked for a purse, finding it easily—on the ceiling, which was now the floor. Most of the contents had escaped.

Checking not only the ceiling but under the upside-down seats, he found the latest model iPhone, a hot-pink leather wallet full of cards and cash, plus loose makeup, a comb, a brush, a tin of Altoids and all the other random stuff a woman just has to cart around with her wherever she goes. He shoved it all back in the purse.

The glove box popped right open for him, spewing its contents, including the pens and notebook she’d mentioned. He found her registration and proof of insurance in there, too. He even found her fancy ring. It had a platinum band and a large, square-cut diamond. The ex-fiancé might not have been the guy for her, but at least he wasn’t a cheapskate. He stuck the ring in his pocket.

Finally, he managed to crawl into the back seat and get the trapdoor to the trunk open. After a little groping around back there, he got hold of the hoodie she’d asked for.

The purse was more of a satchel, big enough that he could stick the notebook, pens and car documents in there, too. He tied the sleeves of the hoodie around his neck, shoved the straps of the satchel up his arm as far as they would go and crawled from the wreck.

He’d made it halfway back up to the road when he heard Munch frantically barking, followed by a bizarre, pulsing cry.

Adrenaline spurting, every nerve on red alert, Garrett froze in midstep. He knew that strange cry. Black bears made that sound when you stole their food or otherwise pissed them off.

Chapter Two

Dropping the purse, grabbing for branches to pull him forward, Garrett scrambled as fast as he could up the hillside. Somewhere up ahead Munch barked like crazy and the bear’s angry vibrating yowl continued.

Then Cami’s voice joined in. “Shoo! Back! Get out of here, you!”

Garrett grabbed the slim trunk of a cottonwood sapling and hauled himself higher, finally getting close enough that he could see them through the brush. They were maybe ten yards below the road. Cami had lost the flip-flops but had found a long stick. She held off the bear with it while Munch ran in circles around them, barking.

With no weapon handy, Garrett grabbed a rock and threw it at the bear, striking it on the rump. The bear turned and let out a quick growl in Garrett’s direction, but then went right back to chuffing and growling at Cami, pawing the ground.

She yelped in response and kept jabbing with her stick. “Back! Go!” Munch continued circling them, barking frantically.

Garrett scuttled closer and threw a bigger rock.

That did it. The bear turned on him. Black bears could move fast when they wanted to. And that one flew down the hill straight at him.

“Garrett!” Cami’s terrified scream rang through the trees as Garrett lunged to the side, counting on gravity and the bear’s forward momentum to drive it right past him.

It worked. The bear saw him move but couldn’t stop in time. It lost its footing and started to roll.

A split second later, Munch zipped by, too.

“Munch!” Garrett shouted. “Stop!”

But the dog was already out of sight down the ravine. He heard the bear make that threatening sound again. There was scrabbling in the brush and grunting from the bear.

And then a loud, startled cry from his dog.

The bear gave another angry grunt. Brush rustled and branches snapped. Garrett caught a flash of dark fur through the undergrowth—the bear running off.

And then there was silence.

“Omigod!” Cami came sliding down the bank toward him. “Munchy! Oh, no!” She toppled.

Garrett caught her before she could fall. “Hey now. Hold on.” With a gasp, she blinked up at him. He asked, “You all right?”

“Let me go.” She tried to break free. “I have to—”

“No,” he said softly. When she kept struggling, he shouted it. “No!”

A whimper escaped her. “But Munch...”

He took her by the shoulders. “Go back to the Jeep.”

“I can’t—”

“Look at me, Cami. Look at me now.” She moaned, but she focused. “Whatever happened down there, it’s over. Don’t believe what you see in the movies. Black bears as a rule aren’t aggressive and that one’s already run off.”

“But where’s Munchy?”

“I’ll go see.”

“Oh, Garrett. I was going to stay in the Jeep, I promise. I’m so sorry.” Tears filled her good eye and seeped from the injured one.

“It’s okay. Just let me—”

“God, I feel so terrible. Munchy started barking. He jumped right over me and out the open window.”

“He probably caught the bear’s scent. We had a couple of bears messing with our trash on a camping trip once. Munch was only a pup, but he chased them away. Just doing his job, that’s all.”

“If anything has happened to him, I’ll never forgive myself.”

He gave her shoulders a gentle shake. “Look at me. Listen. It’s not your fault.”

“But I—”

“I’m sure he’s fine.” No, he was not sure. But he had to say something to settle her down. Last night, he would have sworn that nothing could shake her, but right now he feared she might lose it completely. “I need to get down there and see what’s going on, okay?” She swallowed hard. And then, finally, tear tracks shining on her too-pale cheeks, she nodded. He instructed, “I want you to wait right here. Do that for me. Please?”

“Yes.” The agreement came out of her on a whisper of sound. And then more strongly, she added, “Okay.”

“Come on now. Over here...” He guided her to a boulder that poked up from the bracken and slowly pushed her down. “I’ll be right back,” he promised. She just stared up at him, tears dripping from her chin.

What else could he do? He took her hoodie from around his neck. It zipped up the front, so he wrapped it around her. “You going to be okay?”

She sniffled and stuck her hand in a pocket of the hoodie. “Go,” she commanded, pulling out a rumpled tissue and dabbing her eyes. “I’m fine.”

He wasn’t so sure about that, but he turned anyway, and started down the bank, passing her purse where he’d dropped it. Several yards farther on, he spotted Munch’s tail sticking out of a clump of brush.

His whole body went numb, a strange coldness creeping in, freezing him in place. He’d worried that Cami might break. Now, the sight of that unmoving tail almost broke him.

And then that tail twitched.

“Munch?” He practically fell the rest of the way.

Landing hard on his knees, he shoved the brush aside.

The poor guy was just lying there, as though he’d stretched out on his side for a nap.

“Munch?”

There was a weak little whine. And then, woozily, Munch lifted his head.

“Munch. Munch...” For some reason, Garrett couldn’t stop saying the mutt’s name. He bent close. No blood that he could see.

The dog whined again.

“How you doing, boy? Where does it hurt?” Garrett ran seeking fingers over head, neck, back, belly and down the long bones of each leg. He checked the paws, too.

Nothing.

About then, Munch gave his head a sharp shake.

“You okay, buddy?” The dog wriggled his way upright and started wagging his tail.

Relief poured through Garrett, bringing another wave of weakness. He plunked back on his butt in the brush and grabbed the dog in a hug. “Guess you’re all right, after all, huh?”

For that, he got sloppy doggy kisses all over his face.

Laughing, Garrett caught Munch’s furry mug between his hands. The dog whined sharply. Garrett felt it then, a bump behind the right ear. Carefully, he stroked the sore spot. “You think you can make it back up to the Wrangler?”

The dog let out a sound that just might have been Yes!

Garrett rocked to his feet and straightened with care. His legs still felt shaky, but they were taking his weight. “Well, let’s go, then. Heel.”

Munch obeyed, falling into step at his left side. Eager to reassure Cami that the dog was okay, Garrett climbed fast, pausing only once to grab her purse as they passed it.

A moment later, he caught sight of her waiting on the rock where he’d left her, wearing the hoodie, looking like a lost Little Red Riding Hood, tears shining on her soft cheeks. She spotted him. Batting tears away, she sat up straighter. And then she saw Munch. With a gasp, she shot to her feet. “He’s okay?”

Garrett gave her a nod. “Go ahead. Show him the love.”

“Munchy!” she cried. The mutt raced to greet her and she dipped low to meet him.

Garrett waited, giving her all the time she wanted to pet and praise his dog. When she finally looked at him again, he explained, “The bear must have whacked him a good one. When I found him, he was knocked out, but I think he’s fine now.”

She submitted to more doggy kisses. “Oh, you sweet boy. I’m so glad you’re all right...”

When she finally stood up again, he handed over the diamond ring and that giant purse.

“Thank you, Garrett,” she said very softly, slipping the ring into the pocket of the jeans she’d borrowed from him. “I seem to be saying that a lot lately, but I really do mean it every time.”

“Did you want those high-heeled shoes with the red soles? I can go back and get them...” When she just shook her head, he asked, “You sure?” He eyed her bare feet. “Looks like you might need them.”

“I still have your flip-flops. They’re up by the Jeep. I kicked them off when I ran after Munch.” For a long, sweet moment, they just grinned at each other. Then she said kind of breathlessly, “It all could have gone so terribly wrong.”

“But it didn’t.”

She caught her lower lip between her pretty white teeth. “I was so scared.”

“Hey.” He brushed a hand along her arm, just to reassure her. “You’re okay. And Munch is fine.”

She drew in a shaky breath and then, well, somehow it just happened. She dropped the purse. When she reached out, so did he.

He pulled her into his arms and breathed in the scent of her skin, so fresh and sweet with a hint of his own soap and shampoo. He heard the wind through the trees, a bird calling far off—and Munch at their feet, happily panting.

It was a fine moment and he savored the hell out of it.

“Garrett,” she whispered, like his name was her secret. And she tucked her blond head under his chin. She felt so good, so soft in all the right places. He wrapped her tighter in his arms and almost wished he would never have to let her go.

Which was crazy. He’d just met her last night, hardly knew her at all. And yesterday she’d almost married some other guy. She could seem tough and unflappable, but she’d had way too much stress and excitement recently. The last thing she needed was him getting too friendly with her.

Gently and way too reluctantly, he set her away from him. Biting that plump lower lip again, she gazed up at him, her expression both hopeful and a little bit dazed.

“Now, listen.” He ached to stroke a hand down her pale hair, to cradle her soft cheek in his palm, but he didn’t. “What do you say I take you back down the mountain? We’ll be in Justice Creek in less than an hour and you can—”

“Stop.” In an instant, that dazed, dewy look vanished. Her soft mouth pinched tight. Without another word, she grabbed her purse and headed for the Jeep, Munch at her heels.

Garrett followed at a distance as she climbed up to the road. He gave her time to stick her feet in his flip-flops and usher the dog in on the passenger’s side. When she jumped up to the seat and slammed the door, he circled around the front of the vehicle.

As soon as he got in behind the wheel and pulled the door shut, she commanded, “Take me back to the cabin or I’ll say goodbye right here.”

He let the silence stretch out before coaxing, “Come on. Don’t be that way.”

Her tight mouth softened a little. “I’m sorry. I’m just not ready yet to deal with all the crap that’s waiting for me back in the real world.”

“I meant what I told you,” he warned. “I’m going home Wednesday.”

She turned her gaze from him and stared blankly out the windshield. “I understand.”

“Cami, when I go, I’m not just leaving you alone in that cabin. You don’t even have decent shoes to wear.”

“I know.” She looked so sad.

And he had that need again, to touch her in a soothing way—to clasp her hand or pat her shoulder. Or better yet, to pull her into his arms where she felt so good and fit just right. But he kept his hands to himself.

He spoke firmly. “If I take you back to the cabin now, you have to agree that you’ll be ready to go down the mountain with me on Wednesday.”

“I’ll be ready.” She met his eyes then. “I’ll go when you go. I just need a few more days on this mountain of yours where no one can find me.”

He eyed the faded, baggy T-shirt he’d given her to wear, the jeans she had to hold up with a battered old belt and the too-big flip-flops that had to be a real pain to walk in. “How ’bout this? We drive down to town and get you some clothes that fit you, then come right back up to the cabin?”

Her lush mouth got pinchy. “Nice try. I’m not going down there till Wednesday. I’m just not. I want this time away from everything, Garrett. And I’m going to have it.”

“We can use my credit card if you’re worried they’ll—”

“No.”

“Well, then, I could take you back to the cabin and then go down myself and get you some better clothes.”

“Better clothes can wait till Wednesday.” Her pinched look had softened. “Please. Will you just let it go?”

He figured it was about the best deal he was going to get from her. “Fair enough,” he said gruffly. And he had to hand it to her. She’d picked the right place to disappear. No one was likely to come looking for her up here.