Read Online Thunder Running by Rebecca Crowley - Free Book Online Page A

don’t need to.”
    He started walking in the direction of the fence where they’d parked the car, and she fell into step beside him. “I appreciate that. Lord knows there’ve been enough days of obnoxious customers and power-tripping bosses that I’ve prayed for some billionaire oil tycoon to sweep me off my feet so I can spend the rest of my days drinking Lynchburg lemonades by the pool.”
    â€œYou don’t drink whiskey cocktails by the pool.” He laughed, white-toothed grin visible in the darkness that thickened as they moved away from the bonfire.
    â€œNo? What do you drink, then?”
    â€œI don’t know, pink fruity shit with little umbrellas.”
    â€œSounds like an expert opinion to me,” she scoffed.
    He didn’t reply, and as the silence stretched between them she worried she’d said something offensive. She was halfway through her mental replay of what had just come out of her mouth when he spoke, his voice soft and serious.
    â€œThing is, my family’s always hitting me up for money. My mom drives home drunk, dents her car on a light pole, doesn’t want to tell the insurance company so she calls me to ask if I’ll cover the repair. The next day it’ll be my oldest sister on the phone, crying about breaking up with her kid’s dad for the fifteenth time, spinning this whole story about how she moved all her stuff to his house and had to walk out without any of it and my nephew has nothing to wear to school and could I just spot her enough for new gym shoes, oh and can I wire it first thing in the morning?” He shrugged. “I guess I’m used to taking care of everyone, even if I resent it sometimes, so the idea of my wife having to go to work in some dive with a creep like Rob for a boss— What I’m trying to say is it’s been a long time since anyone told me they didn’t need my money, that they could earn their own.”
    â€œWhich is a good thing, right?”
    â€œDefinitely.” He shot her a quick, reassuring smile. “Just caught me off guard.”
    â€œI specialize in unpredictability.”
    â€œTell me about it,” he grumbled, but there was humor in his tone.
    They walked another few feet in silence, the light and noise of the party now so distant and the wintry blackness so complete the bonfire might as well have been in another time, on another planet. Tara liked that feeling—that they were totally alone in this field, suspended, impervious to interference.
    She reached across to close her palm around Chance’s wrist, tug his hand from his pocket and lace her fingers through his. He didn’t speak, and he didn’t pull away.
    She smiled into the conspiratorial nighttime. Maybe this lunatic marriage experiment was going to work out after all.

Chapter Five
    Tara peered through the windshield at the low-slung stone building and the all-caps declaration COMMISSARY etched on its façade. The parking lot was busier than she would’ve expected for a Wednesday morning, but then again she supposed a lot of army personnel didn’t work nine to five so the normal rules didn’t apply.
    The dashboard clock informed her she’d wasted seven whole minutes sitting in the Malibu, fretting about going inside. She huffed in self-disgust.
    â€œIt’s just a freaking grocery store. Now get out of this damn car and do this,” she coached under her breath, releasing her seat belt.
    She reached for the hessian tote she’d stashed on the passenger seat, checked to see if any of the entering or exiting patrons had brought their own bags, then decided to leave hers in the car. Lord knew they’d already smell the civilian on her—she didn’t need to raise more hackles with her hippie grocery bag.
    â€œIt’s exactly like any other grocery store in America, except there’s no sales tax and it’s packed with grunts every payday. There’s a