Getaway Gone Wrong (Team Northwest Sweet Romance Book 2) Read online

  “Matching jackets? How precious.”

  He shrugged. “They had a two-for sale a month ago. I’m hard on my clothes, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to grab an extra.”

  “Smart.” Parker slipped her arms into the jacket and felt immediate relief from the cutting breeze. “Thanks. This is nice.”

  “Are you getting in, or did you want to walk it?”

  “Is it that close?”

  “We’d get there in time for closing.” With a smile, he ushered her into the passenger seat and shut the door. While he trotted around the front, Booster shuffled forward and nosed his way under Parker’s left arm.

  “Sweet furry armrests,” teased Parker as Guy started the engine.

  “Yes. He doubles as a foot warmer and extra blanket, too.”

  Parker combed her fingers through the dog’s thick coat absently. “Must be nice. I haven’t had a dog since I was a kid. Too hard to take care of when I’m on the road all the time with new assignments.” She chuckled. “Though, I guess you’ve found a way to make it work by bringing him with you. How many jobs do you have, exactly?”

  “I’m a semi-professional, free-lance everything.” He maneuvered the van up the steep driveway.

  “Care to explain?”

  “It means I only charge the irritating people, but I charge them enough to subsidize everyone else.”

  Parker let loose her infamous cackle before catching herself with a squeak. She watched his profile as it slipped into shadow. “So, are there enough irritating, rich people to keep your rescue business funded?”

  “Sure. There’s a lot of money on this island. We’ve got writers, a famous cartoonist, loads of artists, movie producers. All hiding in the woodwork, so to speak.”

  “You’re kidding me. Why here?”

  “Idyllic family farms in the middle of the forest in the middle of the Sound? What’s not to love? It’s every kind of getaway rolled into one—rural, rugged, seafaring.”

  “Hmm. I suppose.” She shrugged. “I don’t do a lot of getaways. This is my first.”

  Guy frowned. “That can’t be good for your mental health.”

  “That’s probably why I go crazy every other day.” She returned to the original subject. “So, who are your jerky paying customers?”

  “The yacht club millionaires in Deer Harbor, mostly. They aren’t certifiable jerks, but they can afford it, you know? If they need a fridge repaired, or a satellite installed, they can pay for it.”

  “You can do all that?”

  Guy turned to her and winked, his face barely visible in the fading light of sunset. “So far as they know.”

  “We must lead parallel lives, both catering to the egos of the rich so we can do what we really want some day.” Parker turned away, surprised she had released that thought. She had never admitted to anyone that what she was doing with Star Power Studios wasn’t exactly what she wanted. That could be professional suicide in her line of work.

  “Very possible.”

  They drove on in companionable silence for a few miles while Parker processed how quickly perceptions of people could change. This man who previously aggravated her now intrigued her. No longer scrawny and scruffy, he portrayed lithe, strong, confident, and … maybe a little sexy in a quirky sort of way?

  Once in Eastsound, he pulled onto a side street beside a tiny establishment with an open deck for seating and another enclosure that looked like a glorified greenhouse. Guy looped the handle of Booster’s leash around the post by the outdoor eating area and led Parker into the clear plastic-paneled dining room.

  “Hey, Guy!” A red-haired girl with a nose ring stood by the cash register at a counter. “You and Booster want the usual?”

  “Yes, please.” Guy turned to Parker. “Order anything you want. The Kitchen uses all locally-grown, organic vegetables and chicken, and they have vegan options for every palate. Everything is fresh-prepared. You’ll love it. This place is almost everyone’s favorite.”

  “Sure beats eating Lucky Charms!” Parker perused the menu. The aromas wafting out from the kitchen behind the counter emboldened her. “Surprise me. I’ll try anything.”

  “Really?”

  “Except squid.”

  Guy nodded sagely and flashed a bright smile at the red-head. “Hold the squid.”

  “Will do.”

  “Make that two of the usual.”

  “Okay. We’ll bring it right out.”

  Parker stuffed her hands into the deep pockets of the jacket. “Wow, you must come here a lot.”

  He jerked his chin towards the door. “Half my graduating class works here.”

  “Is that your high school class, or one of your two college degrees?”

  “You were listening!” He held the door open for her.

  “Wait. Are we really eating outside?” She eyed the table for two in the corner.

  A burst of raucous laughter erupted from a large gathering in the center where three tables had been moved together. Guy twisted his lips and drummed his fingers on the counter. “We’ll have a quieter time of it out there.”

  “All right. If you say so. But if I start growing icicles on my nose …”

  “I’ll bundle you up warm enough to melt you.” He ushered her outside with a wink.

  Booster gave a single happy “Woof” in greeting and thumped his tail.

  “He has to be the best-behaved dog on the planet,” said Parker.

  Guy slid into the seat closest to the fence post. “He’s putting on a show of good behavior.”

  Parker sat opposite Guy, noting they were at the table farthest from the enclosed dining area. Only little twinkling lights wrapped around the branches of a tree above them provided ambience. “We’re really going to eat out here?”

  “It’s this or the van.” He indicated Booster.

  Parker harrumphed, but acquiesced when she saw Booster’s happy, lolling tongue.

  “So,” said Guy, toying with the tiny centerpiece, a plastic cup holding napkins and a few silk flowers. “Tell me about the Soap Star gig.”

  “Do I have to?”

  He leaned his elbows on the table and dipped his head, searching her face.

  She met his gaze shyly. “Can we talk about anything else? It was not my favorite job.”

  “Okay.” He flicked a finger at the silk flower. “How come you don’t use your name? Daisy. Everyone loves daisies. Happy, pretty little flowers.”

  “Exactly. Happy, pretty, little flowers. My parents wanted me to be all cute and frilly in pink dresses, but …”

  “But you’re not?”

  “Do I look it?”

  Guy held up his hands in an appeasing gesture. “I already blundered while discussing what I think of your appearance. Suffice it to say …” He flipped his thumbs up.

  Parker bit back a smile. “Thanks, but I’m more of a tomboy. I always wanted to be in charge. I wanted to make other things beautiful, not be the object on display.” She held up a hand. “And before you extrapolate too much from what I just said, let’s just admit why I hate the soap opera business. Too much pretty on display. Enough said?”

  “Snowman suits.”

  “Exactly.”

  He nodded approvingly. “All right. But then why work for them at all?”

  “It’s a stepping stone.” She shrugged, wishing she didn’t have to explain. “I want up. I need to climb the rungs, and I’m doing it as fast as I can. Eventually, I’ll get to a point where I get to call my own shots.”

  “Strong shots, not frilly.”

  She winced inwardly at his observation. “Isn’t that what any modern woman wants?”

  “Absolutely.” His smile felt accepting, even as his eyes penetrated something in the back of her skull. She could feel a tingle running up her arms and wondered what magic this man possessed.

  “Seriously, why are you so nice to me?”

  His finger looped a circle in the air again. “Island. Remember? I already know everyone here, so i
t’s nice to meet a new face. A pretty face, even if it’s not on display.”

  An explosion of heat went off in Parker’s chest. Pretty? No one had called her pretty in years. Efficient, tough, no-nonsense—all the time. But pretty? She bit her lip and glanced over at Booster. He responded by sidling closer and resting his chin on her knee. “You are a good blanket, Booster. Stay right there all through dinner, and I’ll make sure you get table scraps.”

  “Let me ask you something.” Guy seemed to sense her mood shift, and leaned closer across the table, his voice lowering. “Why did you come out here all alone?”

  Parker stiffened. “Star Power Studios gave me a week’s all-expenses paid vacation. Consolation prize for not getting the full-season directorial slot.”

  “Don’t these things usually come as tickets for two?”

  Bristling, Parker folded her arms. “I guess the studio knew I didn’t have a significant other.”

  A smile flickered across his lips before he adopted a curious expression. “You could have brought a friend. A sister.”

  Parker felt an irritating stinging in her eyes, but said nothing.

  He tilted his head to one side. “No time for significant others, or friends, or dogs?”

  Swallowing, Parker studied Booster’s restful face. “I guess not.”

  Guy leaned back with a frown. “Whatever they’re paying you, it isn’t enough.”

  Parker felt a shiver, whether of cold or emotional discomfort, she wasn’t sure. How did this stranger ask all the right questions to jangle her sense of priorities so much? “Some dreams take sacrifice,” she offered. It used to be her mantra, but she lacked conviction as she sat there under a tree full of little white lights with a lap full of golden retriever muzzle.

  “Sure, they do,” agreed Guy. “But sacrifice means giving up something you value to gain something even better.”

  Parker pondered this. Her smirk morphed into a soft smile. “You really are the smartest high school dropout I ever met.” She winked.

  “Probably.” His eyes widened with a jolt. “Uh-oh.”

  “Uh-oh, what?”

  He held up his palm. “Didn’t you feel that? It’s starting to sprinkle.”

  “Should we head inside?”

  “No, no. Booster’s not allowed in there.”

  “Can’t we leave him in the van?”

  Guy wagged a finger at her with a sideways grin. “Booster is part of this dinner party, too. If he goes to the van, then we all do.”

  “Oh, for the love of puppy chow,” muttered Parker. “All right then. Is it too late to make the order to go?”

  “Good idea.” Guy pulled his keys out of his pocket. “Here, you go get in the van with Booster, and I’ll bring the food out as soon as it’s ready. We don’t want wet dog stinking up our fine dining experience.”

  Parker shook her head and snorted, but received the keys and the dog leash. “All right, Booster. It’s you and me, buddy. Let’s go for a joy ride while Guy gets our grub.” She rounded the fence and felt her foot slip. With horror, she recognized the stench and the patch of dark goo on her shoe. “Booster, I cannot believe you did this to me.”

  Booster’s tongue flopped to one side amiably.

  Grumbling epithets, Parker trudged back to the van, dragging the side of her poopy shoe on the ground as she went. “Great. Now I’m playing Igor in The Hunchback of Notre Dame.” She unlocked the van door and slid open the side. “Get in, you little gremlin.”

  Booster complied with a cheerful wag of his hind end, and Parker slid the door shut. She resumed her step-drag motion in a wide circle around the van as the drops from the sky gradually grew thicker. Maybe it would rain, and she could rinse off her foot in a puddle.

  Step-drag, step-drag, step-drag. She came around to where she’d started and spotted Guy approaching with several cartons of take-out.

  “Let me guess. You landed a part in Singin’ in the Rain?”

  How did he always catch her doing something stupid? “Best movie ever,” she cheered, determined to keep her cool. Adding jazz hands to her scraping move, she asked, “Any good lamp posts around?”

  Guy chuckled and handed her the cartons. “Mind holding these on your lap? If we set them down, Booster will eat them before we can shut the door.”

  “Sure.” She took the cartons, hiding her shoe behind her. It wouldn’t work. She could still smell it.

  Seated in the van, Guy wrinkled his nose with obvious disgust. “Phew!”

  Parker feigned wide-eyed innocence. “What?”

  “I apologize for the stink. I stepped in some Booster doodle back there, and I couldn’t quite get it all wiped off.”

  Parker burst into a giggling fit, almost dropping the cartons of warm food. “Oh great. Now we have matching jackets and matching shoes!”

  “Really?” Guy’s shoulders shook with laughter. “It’s a sign.”

  “Or an omen.”

  “Well, we can’t eat in the van with this … aroma … ruining the mood.” He turned his head to her, his hands on the wheel. “How do I say, ‘Wanna come back to my place?’ without it sounding like a creepy come-on?”

  Parker wiped raindrops from her forehead with the back of her hand. “You just did. Except why don’t we make it mine? Then you won’t have to drive me home later.”

  “What about Booster?”

  She eyed the dog and pointed a finger at him. “You can come, but no dumping do-do in my cabin.”

  Booster licked her finger.

  Guy started the engine. “We’re probably safe. He’s usually only carrying one good load in him this time of night.”

  As they wound their way back through the roads, Parker alternately wanted to kick herself and laugh at the whole situation. When would Guy see the real Parker—the dynamo, the powerhouse, the boss, instead of the insecure klutz his presence seemed to ignite?

  Guy parked behind her Prius and opened the door for her since her hands were full. Booster followed, tail wagging and nose sniffing at the food. At the door, Parker handed the stack back to Guy so she could open her purse.

  “Lose your keys?” teased Guy.

  “Shut-up,” said Parker, shouldering him out of the way as she fumbled with the lock.

  “Remember, around here, you don’t need to lock.”

  She pushed the door open. “Old habits die hard. I’ve been in L.A. too much lately.”

  “Shoes,” said Guy, stepping on the back of his own heel to pull off his stinky shoe.

  “Oh. Yes. Right.” She sat on one of the benches and removed her shoes, tucking them under the bench to keep them from getting rain-soaked.

  Guy, still holding the food, used his socked toes to pull off his other shoe.

  Parker sighed. “I’m making a terrible first impression, aren’t I?”

  “This isn’t the first impression,” he corrected. “We met on the ferry.”

  She ran a hand down her face. “With the car alarm.”

  “No. When Booster first bumped you.”

  Parker studied him in the dim light. “I pet your dog. How impressive could I be?”

  Guy tilted his head to one side. “You, Miss Parker, are obsessed with impressing. Don’t do that with me. Just be. You’re plenty good just the way you are.”

  Warmth bloomed inside her, and she stood up. “If you say so.”

  “If people can’t appreciate you without you putting on some kind of pretense …” He stepped inside. “Then you charge them for the privilege of your company. It’s how I make my millions.”

  Parker stared at him for a moment, her mouth hanging open. He had kicked down a door inside her heart and let fresh air and sunshine in. Impulsively, she threw her arms around him, crushing the take-out cartons between them.

  “I confess, this makes an impression,” he whispered into her hair.

  Booster barked once, startling Parker even closer to Guy for a moment. Licking her lips, she helped Guy unload the crumpled cartons onto the dining ro
om table. She looked down at their soiled jackets. “Matching peanut sauce stains.”

  With a warm smile, Guy removed his jacket. “It’s a sign.”

  A soft rain pattered at the window pane for almost an hour, during which time Guy consumed vast amounts of chicken satay, and vegetable pad tai while keeping the remnants of his meal from clinging to his whiskers. Between mouthfuls, he told Daisy—Parker—of the island’s natural amenities, and the diverse tourists who came to Orcas Island every year. “It’s amazing. You can go into any of our little restaurants and see half a dozen different races speaking as many different languages. People come from all over the world.”

  She folded her arms and gave him a dubious frown. “Don’t get me wrong—I enjoy it here so far, thanks to your kind hospitality—but seriously? Why? What am I missing?” She swept her hand at the sky outside. “It’s not the tropics, which is where I thought I was going.”

  “You’ve only been here a day. You haven’t done anything special yet.”

  “My vouchers all expired, remember?”

  “And I promised to show you around.”

  “You don’t have to, you know.” Was she tired of him already?

  He tried to sound casual. “I really don’t mind.”

  She gave him a coy look that kindled something deep within him. “Are you going to charge me for your time?”

  “Only if you prove to be terrible company.” He winked. “What do you think about flying or kayaking? Seeing the whales?” He twirled his fork. “Cycling up Mt. Constitution? Visiting Rosario? Golfing?”

  “Golf?” She harrumphed. “Do I look like someone with the patience to golf?”

  He relished the way she looked at him, both terrifying and thrilling. Analytical, yet sexy in a completely unassuming way, she untied his sensibilities with each passing hour. “You don’t have to be any good at it. In fact, the worse you are, the better the experience because you get more time out in the natural surroundings.”

  Parker gave him an incredulous look. “In this weather?”

  “Hey, it’s November. If it we lived in Fargo, we’d be under six feet of snow by now.” He handed a piece of chicken to Booster. “Actually, I think the rain is letting up.”

  Parker squinted past him out the window. “The clouds are thinning. I see the moon over there.”