Running Wild by Sara Jane Stone Read Free Book Online Page B

responded to his apologetic letter, would she care if Noah spent his free time watching women strip off their clothes? One wild, stupid, naked night cut short by her big brother didn’t offer a reason for jealousy.
    But the fact that I told him I love him? That might.
    “No. I bumped into him at the café.” Daphne hesitated. “He didn’t smile. Not once.”
    “PTSD?” she asked quietly. She couldn’t imagine walking into a war zone and leaving without long-lasting trauma. The things he probably saw . . .
    “Maybe,” Daphne said. “But he’s not jumpy. He just seems pissed off at the world. Elvira was behind the counter that day. She tried to thank him for serving our country after he ordered a burger. He set a ten on the counter and walked out before his food arrived.”
    “He left his manners in the Middle East.” Josie stared at the door to Big Buck’s. “Might hurt my chances for getting a job.”
    “I think your lack of waitressing or bartending experience will be the nail in the coffin. But if Noah turns you down, you can work here.”
    “I’d rather keep my shirt on while I work,” Josie said dryly.
    And he won ’t turn me down. He promised to help me.
    But that was before he turned into a surly former marine.
    “You’d make more without it,” Daphne said. “Or you can tell the hospital, the collection agency—whoever’s coming after you—the truth. You’re broke.”
    “I did. They gave me a payment plan and I need to stick to it.” She headed for the door. “I ignored those bills for months. Besides, what kind of mother doesn’t pay her child’s medical bills?”
    The kind who buried her son twenty-seven days after he was born.
    Daphne didn’t say the words, but Josie knew she was thinking them. Her best friend was the only person in Forever who knew the truth about why she was desperate for a paycheck. If only Daphne had inherited a restaurant or a bookstore—a place with fully clothed employees.
    “He has to agree,” Josie added. “I need that money.”
    “I know.” Daphne sighed. “And I need to get to work. I have a staff of topless waitresses and dancers who depend on me for their paycheck. Good luck, Josie.”
    “Thanks.” She ended the call and slipped her phone into the bag slung over her shoulder alongside her wallet and resume.
    She drew a deep breath. But a churning feeling started in her belly, foreboding, threatening. She knew this feeling and she didn’t like it. Something bad always followed.
    Her boyfriend headed for the door convinced he was too young for a baby . . . Her water broke too early. . .
    She tried the door. Locked, dammit.
    Ignoring the warning bells in her head telling her to run to her best friend’s club and offer to serve a topless breakfast, she raised her hand and knocked.
    “Hang on a sec,” a deep voice called from the other side. She remembered that sound and could hear the echo of his words from five long years ago, before he’d joined the marines and before she’d gone to college hoping for a brighter future—and found more heartache.
    Call, email, or send a letter. Hell, send a carrier pigeon. I don’t care how you get in touch, or where I am. If you need me, I’ll find a way to help.
    He’d meant every word. But people changed. They hardened. They took hits and got back up, leaving their heart beaten and wrecked on the ground.
    She glanced down as if the bloody pieces of her broken heart would appear at her feet. Nope. Nothing but cement and her boots. She’d left her heart behind in Portland, dead and buried, thank you very much.
    The door opened. She looked up and . . .
    Oh my . . . Wow. . .
    She’d gained five pounds—well, more than that, but she’d lost the rest. She’d cried for weeks, tears running down her cheeks while she slept, and flooding her eyes when she woke. And it had aged her. There were lines on her face that made her look a lot older than twenty-three.
    But Noah . . .
    He’d