Page 43 of Within Range

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“I did. Although I think he’s got some sauce on his sleeves.”

She rolled her eyes humorously. He liked that she didn’t stress over messes.

Aware his father’s gaze rested on him, Seth concentrated for a minute on eating. What he’d just discovered was that he didn’t want any other man in Robin’s life, or to fill Jacob’s need for a father.

The realization felt like a tiny lurch in the fabric of reality. Man, he was getting way ahead of himself. Yes, he knew now that she hadn’t exaggerated her abuse at the hands of Richard Winstead. At least that much she’d told him was the truth. He remained uneasy, in part because she must have known that she could have gone to the cops in Seattle. Whatever Winstead’s reputation, her medical records were overwhelmingly persuasive, and Seth hadn’t yet received them all.

Was Robin truly still so terrified of the man, she wore blinders, thinking she had to live her entire life on the run? Or was there more?

* * *

AS IF SHE were a child again, Robin wound the tire swing around and around before she climbed into it. Spinning until she couldn’t tell up from down was fun then. So why wouldn’t it be now?

Because she already knew how it felt to have her life spin out of control?

To heck with it. She was going to do this.

She put one leg at a time through the tire, worn bald before it found a new life. Firmly gripping the rope right above the knot, Robin took a deep breath and lifted her foot from the ground.

The tire spun once, twice, three times, gaining speed. She leaned back and looked up at the tree branches and the sky. Her eyes couldn’t focus anymore, so fast did everything tear by. Oh, Lord—bile rose into her throat. She was going to be sick. She had to stop... With a bounce and a countertwirl, the tire slowed and she hung there for an endless moment.

“Fun?” Seth asked.

She clapped her hand over her mouth and squirmed out of the tire, falling to her knees on the grass. She was humiliatingly aware that he’d crouched beside her and was gently rubbing her back while she dry-heaved.

Thank God, she didn’t quite puke, but her mouth tasted awful and she felt as if she was still in motion.

With a hint of humor, he said, “You wouldn’t catch me dead doing that anymore.”

“Ugh.” Robin let her head sag. “It used to be fun.”

“Stinks to get older.”

Her stomach muscles hurt and her head still swam. “Just what I needed to hear.”

He chuckled. “Lie down. You’ll feel better.”

Since she wasn’t capable of doing much else, she sprawled onto the grass on her back, arms and legs splayed. There were the tree branches above her again, still moving—no, only the leaves danced in a breeze—against the blue backdrop. Seth had risen effortlessly to his feet and looked down at her. At the moment, he was the quintessential detective, wearing dark slacks, a white button-down shirt, a badge clipped to his thin black belt and a big black gun holstered at his hip.

“Why are you home?” she asked.

“Decided to take the afternoon off. Hey, let me get you something to drink.” He disappeared from her limited range of vision.

Something to drink? To rinse her mouth out, he meant. Robin ran her tongue over her teeth and made a horrible face. He was right, though; she did feel better with her body, head to heels, in contact with the nice, solid earth.

Seth walked into sight with a can of lemon-lime soda in his hand. Her gaze zeroed in on it.

He laughed, crouched again and helped her sit up, then popped the top off the can and handed it to her. Then he sat, too, his back to the thick bole of the maple tree.

Robin sipped cautiously at the drink.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said in a casual tone that instantly made her wary. “Why don’t you use my phone and call your mom and sister? It should be safe.” He shifted his weight to dig his smartphone out of a pocket.

She gave her head a hard, almost frantic shake. Not the reaction he’d expected, she saw from his narrowed eyes.

Or maybe it was. Was he just being nice to suggest she call home, or did he have another motive? Could his phone be set up to record everything she said?

Sure it could, although she felt guilty. If he was just being nice...


Tags: Janice Kay Johnson Billionaire Romance