Running Away With You (Running #3) Read online

  We pull up to a farmhouse with a sign that proudly states, Welcome to Skyship Air Ventures. There’s an empty field behind the farmhouse and I think I’ve solved the mystery. “Are we going for a balloon ride?” I ask hopefully.

  “Very good, Jepetto. We’re going to see the sun rise above the Appalachian Mountains. After we land, we’ll have a Champagne breakfast.” Auggie pats my hand gently, and I cannot help but smile. It’s his Alive Day, too, and I’m more than grateful to be able to share it with him.

  “I’m so glad it’s just the two of us,” I tell him honestly. “Sometimes when we talk about our experiences, I feel like we’re just depressing the hell out of everyone else.” Part of our Alive Day ritual is to talk about the darkest, most frightening part of our ordeals. Each time we talk about it, it becomes less personal. It feels more like I’m telling a story, and less like I’m reliving the most traumatic event of my life. With each telling, some of its power over me is lost. I’m nearly able to tell the entire story without shedding a tear.

  I try to make my memory of the fire more about my inner strength and less about my victimization. We all have episodes in our lives when we feel like we are helpless against the circumstances surrounding us and unable to control events as they unfold. But it’s how we handle these situations that reveal our true character. I discovered that I am a fighter, unable to surrender, unwilling to give up, and undeterred in my desire to survive and thrive.

  After we check in, Auggie and I are led to an open field where a small army is busily unraveling what appears to be miles of colorful nylon. Tethered to the nylon is a large wicker basket, no larger than a Ferris wheel kart.

  Fortunately, Auggie’s found one of the few hot air balloons with bench seating in the gondola, but once we’re in the air, there’s no way I can sit down. I want to see it all, from every possible angle.

  Our pilot, Greg, is a wonderful tour guide. He entertains us with factual information about the balloon, points out geographical landmarks, and tells tales of his most memorable balloon adventures. “So what brings you two here today?” he asks as he masterfully controls the burners that keep us afloat.

  Auggie looks at me and smiles before he responds. “It’s kind of our anniversary,” he explains. “We call it our Alive Day. We celebrate by choosing one item from our bucket list, and today it was my choice.”

  “Alive Day, huh?” Greg replies thoughtfully. “Did you two serve together or something?”

  We both laugh aloud. “Um, no. I have certain qualities that the army doesn’t ... appreciate,” he explains. “Our Alive Day celebration marks the day we both survived a near-death experience. For me, it was the day I got bumped from a doomed helicopter ride. For my friend here,” Auggie motions toward me, “it marks the day she survived a horrific house fire.”

  “So you’re telling me you were supposed to be on a helicopter that crashed?”

  Auggie nods. “Everyone onboard died a fiery death. There wasn’t a single survivor. Unless you count me, that is.”

  “Wow. You’re a very lucky man. I remember a few months back, there was a helicopter crash in Alaska. Some big hotshot reporter for that Celebrity News Network died.”

  “That was the girl who took my seat. Her name was Laci Keilani. Laci was scheduled to interview the stars of C.O.P.S., filming on a glacier in Alaska. The network paid the pilot extra to put her on the next flight out. She took my seat. Since I was the last to buy my ticket, I was the first one kicked off.”

  “My fiancé is one of the actors and I was on my way to the set.” Auggie pauses for a moment before continuing. Greg is hanging on every word. “At first I was mad. The next flight wouldn’t be until the following day, and I’d waited a long time to see him. I was so mad, in fact, that I threw my phone against the wall and it shattered into pieces. I don’t usually react so violently, but you can’t imagine how upset I was.”

  I jump in at this point. “We had no way of getting in touch with him,” I tell Greg. “We all thought he’d died. It was all over the news – nonstop coverage for hours. They kept showing the wreckage live on television. I could barely breathe. I thought I’d lost my best friend.”

  Auggie wraps his arms around me and holds me tight for a moment. “Everyone back home knew about the crash before I did. I was sitting in a bar feeling sorry for myself when I saw it on the news. I had no idea. While I sat there drinking and wallowing in self-pity, everyone I love and care about was mourning for me. I can’t stand the thought of it. That’s what bothers me the most.”

  “How did you call your friends and family without a phone?” Greg asks Auggie.

  “The bartender let me use his phone to call my parents. Tears me apart to think about them sitting around for hours without knowing I was okay, thinking about what might have happened and preparing for the worst.”

  Memories of that awful night cover me like a thick blanket, weighing me down and blocking out everything around me. But I shake it from me and remind myself that he’s here and neither of us has ever been happier.

  Greg notices the heaviness in the air among us, and expertly changes the topic to the view below us. We are now gliding above the Appalachian Mountains and the view is spectacular. Even though it’s mid-November, it’s quite warm in the balloon, no doubt thanks to the open flame shooting from the propane burner. The sunrise is positively breathtaking as we float tranquilly alongside the endless mountain chain, over towns, farmhouses, fields, lakes, streams, and treetops, enjoying the stunning sights. The vibrantly colored autumn canopy is a vision of beauty as we soar above trees, viewing the panoramic vistas of the Kittatinny Mountain painted in rich colors of plum, crimson, and gold.

  Before long, we’re back on solid ground. Upon arrival, we are greeted by the smell of fresh bacon, eggs, and hash browns cooking on the outside grills. The tables are set with tablecloths, dishes, silverware, and flower arrangements. Before we sit to enjoy the meal, we are welcomed with glasses of champagne with which to toast the Ballooner’s Prayer as a way to give thanks for a safe trip and landing.

  By the time we finally sit down to eat, I am nearly starving. But there are more than enough choices to keep me satisfied. The Mimosas flow freely and it’s the perfect end to a perfect adventure. Cross another item off our bucket list.

  After a relaxing day of shopping and sightseeing, we head over to my home-away-from-home, Rush Dessert Bar. From the moment Evan gifted this restaurant to me, it’s become the place where I find comfort and solace. My best friends are here tonight, as always. We juggle everyone’s schedule so that once a month we can have dinner together, and tonight’s the night.

  Auggie and I are a little early, so we saunter over toward the bar. Both Emmy and Derek are still working. The next shift should be here within an hour, though. Derek is busy flirting with some girls at the end of the bar.

  My eyes are immediately drawn to a large vase overflowing with a glorious bouquet of sunflowers. There’s a big white ribbon and a simple card signed by Evan.

  Emmy hops over to say hello first. “So, how was it?” she asks as she puts out two bar napkins. “What was today’s adventure?”

  “Auggie took me up in a hot air balloon. It was ah-ma-zing!” I tell her, still floating on air from our breathtaking voyage through the clouds. “We watched the sun rise over the Appalachian Mountains.” I pull out my cell phone and show her some pictures I took.

  “Oh my God! I’m so jealous. How come I only get to tag along when we go riding on stinky, spitting camels? You two get to go on the most amazing adventure without me. Not fair. Next time Adam takes me on a hot air balloon, I’m not inviting you!” she teases.

  “I didn’t realize you’ve been in a hot air balloon before, Emmy. When did you go?”

  “Technically, never, but Adam would take me tomorrow if I asked.” She’s right. He would move Heaven and Earth if she asked him to. “So, what do you two want to drink?”

  Auggie and I order our drinks and, while we wait, he take
s out his phone and starts checking his email. I can’t complain. He stayed unplugged all day for me. It must have been killing him. Normally he can’t go an hour without getting his email and status updates.

  “So, where’s Lucas?” I ask. “Is he coming to dinner tonight?” Since the crash, they have been nearly inseparable.

  “He’s in LA for two days doing some additional dialogue recordings for C.O.P.S. He has to dub over some of the lines that didn’t record clearly because of the wind and waves.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t join him,” I tease.

  “It’s only two days, darlin’. I figured if you can do it, so can I.”

  Auggie is talking about Evan’s away games. So far he’s had six, and I’ve decided not to travel with him to any of them. He leaves the day before the game and stays in a hotel with the team. I’m not allowed to stay in the room with him, so what would be the point? I’d be on my own, on a different floor of the hotel.

  Emmy comes back with our drinks and I suddenly notice I haven’t seen our general manager, Marcus, so I ask Emmy if he’s around.

  “Of course he’s here. Where else would he be?” With Emmy, everything is so simple. I think that’s what I love most about her. “He’s in the back, finishing the inventory. He should be just about done by now. Want me to go get him?”

  I just shake my head and take a sip of my pomegranate Martini. No need to bother him while he’s working. His shift will be ending soon, too, and then I can get an update on how business went today. I hate being away from the restaurant for even one day, but some things are more important.

  Glancing over at Auggie as he checks in on his social media sites, I catch a glimpse of the promise ring he wears on his right hand. Lucas has a matching ring. They are made of tungsten carbide with a platinum inlay. Simple. Classic. Stunning. Just like Auggie.

  He catches me eyeing his ring enviously and wraps a protective arm around me. “Don’t be jealous. That big sparkler of yours puts mine to shame. That boy sure does have excellent taste.”

  “I’m the one who picked it out, remember?”

  “I wasn’t talking about the ring, kiddo.” Auggie kisses me on the cheek and I think I actually blush.

  The door swings open and in walks Evan, freshly showered and looking positively scrumptious. Adam is close behind, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear the two could be brothers.

  Evan’s barely got both feet through the door when a small horde of college-age girls attacks – the same girls Derek was flirting with just moments ago. Derek and I look at each other and he just gives a shrug. He knows there’s no competing with the charms of Evan “Big Mac” McGuire.

  Always the true gentleman, Evan pauses to speak with the girls before he politely excuses himself and heads straight toward me. I watch in slow motion as he approaches. My body still reacts instinctively at the sight of him. My thighs clench as he draws nearer. He’s all broad shoulders, tight muscles, and bright blue eyes. My fingers twitch, itching to get tangled in his messy brown hair. When his eyes lock on to mine, his mouth tilts in a crooked half smile, giving life to those dimples that I love so very much.

  When he finally reaches me, he smirks. He runs a callused thumb across my cheek, tilts my head back. I brace my hands on his hips and look into his deep blue eyes. He leans down and lightly brushes his lips against mine, nipping the corner of my mouth. He nibbles his way to my ear and whispers, “I missed you.”

  I grab hold of the belt loops of his jeans and pull him closer. Our lips meet again, and this time he deepens the kiss, teasing my lips and the tip of my tongue with his. I moan in agreement and run my fingers across the stubble on his face. He slows the kiss down, nibbling on my lips once again, and nuzzles my nose with Eskimo kisses. God, he smells good.

  As the fog clears, I look deep into his eyes and ask, “What brought that on?”

  “I told you, I missed you. That’s all. It doesn’t take much, you know.” Evan wiggles his hips suggestively and I giggle like a schoolgirl.

  “Well, I’m going on daytrips with Auggie more often if this is what I get to come home to,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my head against his firm chest. He plays with my hair, kisses the top of my head, and steps back, slipping onto the barstool beside me.

  At the end of the bar, a similar scene is playing out between Adam and Emmy. They make such an interesting couple. Emmy’s long, blonde hair with pink highlights perfectly suits her rocker-chick style. Adam’s dirty blond hair and athletic physique make him look like a wholesome, all-American young man every girl would love to take home to meet her parents. They are madly in love, and it shows. He adores her and she idolizes him. It’s a match made in Heaven.

  Derek knows Evan’s beer of choice, and hands him a Smithwick’s Irish Ale. They shake hands and Evan samples the beer, checking for the proper temperature. Satisfied, he nods, and Derek goes back to taking care of our customers.

  It still breaks my heart that Derek hasn’t found that special someone. He certainly deserves to be happy. He’s funny, flirty, and disarmingly attractive. His shoulders are wide but lean, like the rest of him. He’s more toned than he is muscular. He moves with the confidence of someone who’s comfortable with who his is. I know from personal experience that he knows how to dance, and there’s something sexy about a man who knows how to move his body.

  I scan the room and spot Marcus pulling some tables together for our group. There are nine of us tonight. I excuse myself from the bar and go back to help Marcus with the chairs. He’s pushed three tables together, and now we’re rearranging silverware and napkins. Reese comes up from behind me and hands me a stack of our new menus. “Hey, Jette. I’m off. The second shift just got here to relieve me. I’m going to go clean up a little before dinner. Be right back.”

  There was a time when I had hopes of Reese and Derek working things out, but that ship has sailed. They tried to make a go of it, but it didn’t work. Derek is easy to fall for, but he couldn’t give Reese the one thing she needs the most – stability. She’s looking for someone who can take care of her financially, and although we pay Derek well, he’s not rolling in the dough.

  Of course, there was Shaun Marise, one of Evan’s teammates, but that relationship was doomed to fail before it even began. Shaun is sweet, kind, and completely trustworthy. But he didn’t challenge Reese enough to keep her interested for long. Poor guy. Fortunately, he took the news well, and has moved on. But Reese is still searching for her Mister Right.

  Slowly, our little group assembles at our dinner table. Emmy and Derek have been relieved at the bar and join Evan, Adam, Auggie, and me.

  Before long, Marcus’ wife Camilla joins us. They’ve been married for two months now, and seem blissfully happy. Camilla is carrying a rather large tote bag with her, and after a quick kiss for her new husband, she sits with us and empties the contents onto the table. “Look what I’ve got!” she squeals.

  “Wedding pictures!” we exclaim excitedly.

  “Emmy, quick – go get Reese and tell her to get her ass out here,” I order as we make room on the table for the albums. The men have congregated at the end of the table, giving us girls (and Auggie) enough room to work.

  “Why are there so many albums?” Auggie asks.

  “Well, this one has pictures of us getting ready. This one is of the wedding ceremony. This one is the reception. And this one is from the honeymoon.” She spreads them out proudly. “I have to choose the photographs I want for my bridal album. I need you guys to help me pick.”

  Reese and I both reach for the honeymoon album. Marcus took her on a romantic vacation to Cancun. They stayed at the swanky Ritz-Carlton hotel right on the beach. Auggie grabs the album from the ceremony. He was still in Alaska during the wedding and he didn’t make it back in time. Lucas wouldn’t let him leave, and besides, I don’t think he was in any rush to get on an airplane.

  As I flip through the pages, I feel sparks of electricity firing off
throughout my body. I don’t even have to look up to know that Evan is watching me. I can feel his eyes on me. He ignites something deep inside me that I have no words to explain.

  Camilla interrupts my thoughts with questions of her own. “So Jette, are you almost ready for your wedding? It’s only three months away, you know.”

  “We got another offer to get married on national television,” I tell her.

  Auggie stops abruptly and asks, “Another? Seriously? Who is it this time?” Auggie hates the media attention almost as much as I do. He got a taste of it after the plane crash. For nearly two months, the life and death of Laci Keilani was broadcast relentlessly. When the public found out that her death saved Auggie’s life, everyone wanted to know more about him and Lucas. They became the unwitting public face of marriage equality.

  “TMZ made us a very generous offer,” I tell him.

  He looks at me skeptically. “And?”

  “And I told them I would think about it. It’s a lot of money. Evan and I were thinking about buying a horse ranch in Texas, and their offer would totally pay for all of it.” I’ve finally done it – Auggie is speechless. He stares at me in disbelief, eyes wide open and mouth hanging slack.

  Emmy is the first to see through me. “Oh Auggie – you’re so gullible.” She gives him a playful elbow jab. “You know there’s no way that would happen.” As he lets out a breath I don’t think even he realized he was holding, Emmy continues, “Tell us what you really said, Jette.”

  “We told them to shove their offer up their ass. At least, that’s what we told Adam to tell them. I have a feeling he may not have said it as colorfully, though.”

  “Have you gotten other offers?” Camilla asks.

  “We have. It sucks. I know Evan’s an even bigger celebrity now, but why can’t everyone just leave us alone? Every time we go to check out a potential location, someone leaks it to the press.” I let out a sigh of frustration as I think about the last place we visited. “We found a beautiful golf course near Atlantic City, and it was perfect. Apparently, one of the cooks sold the story to Access Hollywood, and they called offering to televise it. They knew the date, the location ... even the menu.” I shake my head, still disappointed by the turn of events. “Obviously, we had to cancel. Back to square one, I guess.”