The Escape (US Marshals #1) - Lisa Harris Page 0,23
and tackle shop?”
“That’s your question?”
“The idea intrigues me. You’re a US Marshal, and you’ve spent your whole career putting your life at risk chasing down felons.”
“So you think it’s too far away from my character? That I’d be bored?”
“Yes, actually. I see you as the kind of person who will be a hundred before you retire.”
“Maybe, but people change. Grow. Look for different adventures. I love what I do, but I’m not sure I want to do this my whole life. Don’t you ever think of doing something a little less dangerous? To settle down with a regular nine-to-five job and live a normal life? Or is normal simply overrated?”
He tried to gauge her response in the firelight. He knew how hard it was for people like them to have anything close to a normal life. Just to become a marshal was fiercely competitive, and once you were in, there was no typical day, other than the fact that it was going to be long and grueling.
“I don’t know,” she said. “My sister just had a baby. She stays home with her three kids, has what I’d call a normal life, and loves every minute of it.”
“Then tell me what you do for fun, besides chasing after bad guys.”
She let out a swoosh of air. “Now that’s a tough one. I like to run. Hang out with my sister’s family. Their kids are still young, but definitely old enough to spoil.”
“I bet they love you.”
“Probably not as much as I love them. I’m also involved in a nonprofit that is working to stop sex trafficking in the area. That might not be fun, but it is fulfilling.”
“What about rest?” he asked.
“Rest? I know God had a reason for that day of rest, but I struggle to find time for it.” She shifted slightly and caught his gaze. “Once again, you’ve angled the conversation back to me. What about you? What do you do for fun besides eat chowder and dream of opening a tackle shop?”
He let out a low laugh. “Working out and motorcycling. I have a bike and have found it’s a great way to wind down.”
“Luke and I used to take at least one trip every summer on a bike with a group from church.”
“Have you taken any trips recently?”
“No. When you’re not a couple anymore, it’s easy to get lost in the shuffle.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s a journey. I’m coming to realize that sometimes life is hard, and that’s okay. I’ve had to give myself permission to grieve, especially on days like today that somehow manage to bring back all the memories—both good and bad.”
“There’s some great places to ride outside Seattle. The Chinook Pass Scenic Byway, the Yakima River Canyon—”
“Now that’s not a bad idea. You could always be a guide. Do tours, rent out bikes and fishing equipment. I can definitely see you doing that rather than standing behind a cash register selling worms.”
“Maybe, but it really doesn’t matter. I’m not exactly ready to retire. Not yet anyway.”
“Even after this fiasco?”
He chuckled. “Even after this.”
He yawned and she followed suit.
“You’re making me tired.”
“Maybe that’s good,” he said. “I’ll take the first watch. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
She looked around the room. “And something tells me it’s also going to be a long night.”
Water continued to drip in various spots around the room, but at least the spot they’d chosen was still dry.
He added a couple more logs to the fire. “I’ll lean against my bag. You can lean against me.”
For a second he wanted to take his words back. Somehow the invitation seemed too . . . intimate. “I’m just trying to ensure we both are at least somewhat comfortable and warm.”
“It’s fine.” She smiled. “And, Jonas, thank you.”
Getting comfortable, though, proved to be an effort in futility. He settled in on the hard, wooden floor that wasn’t exactly even, while she snuggled up next to him.
A minute later, she was softly snoring.
He was glad she’d be able to forget the day, even if it was only for a few hours. Glad she’d been able to share with him about the significance of today. But why hadn’t he been able to talk about Felicia? Just when he thought he was past everything that had happened, he found himself frozen when trying to talk about her. Memories of their last encounter blurred his thoughts.
He’d met Felicia outside her physical therapy class that afternoon. He’d planned to give her a ride home, hoping she might agree to