Page 83 of His Fake Fiancé

Linc snatched the note from his hands. “What do you mean gone?”

Jake threw his hands up. “I just got here, too, Linc. Her note says she needs some time and is heading to LA to stay with KC.”

Linc scanned the note and then thrust it into Brock’s hand. Brock scanned the letter, his frown deepening, as if that was even possible.

Jake didn’t have time for this. “When was the last time you saw her?”

Jax glanced at Linc, who shook his head slightly. Jake hoped his jaw ached all day. Then he looked at Brock, who gave away nothing. Clearly, some sort of silent communication had happened, because he then looked at Jake. “She was here last night.”

Good. That meant she’d only left sometime within the last few hours. And she hadn’t driven, because her jeep was still parked outside. So, the choice was the train station or the airport. He had a fifty-fifty shot of choosing right.

He pushed past Jax and Brock. Just as he was about to duck into the hallway, Jax grabbed his arm. “Where are you going?”

He shook off Jax’s grip. “To find your sister.”

“And?”

“And tell her I love her.”

Chapter 24

Claire rubbed her tired eyes and took another sip of her coffee. Inside the airport there was only vending machine food available, and it was terrible. Bitter and burnt. What she wouldn’t give for a Starbucks latte right about now.

Even though she’d gone to bed early last night, she’d spent most of the night tossing and turning, unable to get her brain to quiet enough to let her fall asleep. She’d finally conked out, just in time for her alarm to go off. Getting out of the house without waking anyone—she’d had to be gone before five because that’s when mornings on the ranch usually started, which meant her brothers would be awake—had been tricky, but she’d managed. She’d even walked out to the road to meet the rideshare.

She glanced at her watch. There was still at least another hour before boarding. She was kicking herself for not bringing a book or something. There were only so many rounds of Candy Crush you could play before your eyeballs dried up.

With a sigh, she stood and walked over to the trashcan to toss what as left of her coffee. The flight was short—just under two hours—so she was hoping to get a good nap in on the plane. Then, if she could just stay awake for the rest of the day, she should be able to crash hard tonight, and sleep through.

She sat back down, mostly because every inch of her hurt. Physically, mentally, spiritually. She was a mess, through and through. She made sure her crossbody bag was secure on her lap, and then tipped her head back and closed her eyes.

Someone sat in the seat right next to her.

You’ve got to be freaking kidding me. She tightened her grip on her bag. There were like a hundred and fifty other free seats, and yet they had to choose the one right next to her. Some people had no sense of spatial awareness. She’d thought that picking a seat in the back, on the end, would save her, but clearly, she was wrong.

The minutes ticked by, and her seat companion hadn’t realized the error of their ways, because they were still stuck to her side. It would be so rude to get up and move, but she was so done with worrying about everyone else’s feelings. Wasn’t this whole trip because she needed to start looking after herself?

She opened her eyes and sat up, getting ready to move to an empty seat. She glanced over to get a look at her new nemesis. Her gaze crashed into familiar blue eyes.

The shock that ran through her frazzled her brain. She sank back into the seat, all her muscles suddenly feeling like they’d turned to jelly. “What are you doing here, Jake?”

It probably would have been more impressive if her voice hadn’t been so small and squeaky.

He turned toward her, rubbing his hands on his jeans. His hair was rumpled, like he’d run his fingers through it a few hundred times. There were dark circles under his eyes, strain lines around his beautiful mouth.

Even after everything, there was a part of her that wanted to reach for him, comfort him, tell him it was all going to be okay. She tucked her hands under her thighs to keep from giving in.

“I w-went to your h-h-house.” He paused, took a deep breath. “Climbed up the trellis like in the old days. Went through the window.”

“You broke into my house?”

He shrugged. “Linc would probably say yes.”

She groaned and rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. “Linc caught you?”

“More like wrestled me to the ground.”

“Brock? Jax? My dad?”