Page 18 of Steinbeck (The Minnesota Kingstons #5)

She stopped just outside the side entrance. “Maybe just annoying.”

But she smiled.

And he didn’t need normal anyway.

* * *

“Something’s up with Harper.” Jack didn’t know why he let those words out to Conrad as they stood in line for french fries, the stars arching overhead, sprinkling magic down upon the fairgrounds.

But the words had been soaking for the better part of the past day.

Maybe he was imagining the chill from his girlfriend.

She’d been normal. Nice. Just... something felt not quite right .

Behind him, in the grandstand, a mid-concert band stoked up the crowd, country music twanging into the night during the break between Oaken’s sets.

“Well, I think everyone is a little weirded out about Steinbeck. I mean, who is this girl, really? A spy, like Austen said, or a regular girlfriend? I mean, he’s been holding her hand all day. And now, what, they’re leaving, just like that?”

“That was weird, but you know Stein. He can’t just... be normal.”

Conrad laughed. “Yes. Normal is not the word I’d use for him. He’s been so restless for the past few months.”

“It’s the girl. She makes him crazy.”

Conrad looked at him. “So, yes to the girlfriend.”

“Yes to something. And I get it. Harper has always been... I don’t know. Under my skin, I guess.”

“In a good way.”

“In a makes-me-crazy kind of way. Except for today. She’s acting... weird.”

Conrad stood beside him, hands in his pockets, reading the menu board. “She seems fine to me.”

“That’s because you’re not dating her.”

“She’s holding your hand, laughing at your jokes.” He glanced at Jack. “You’re overthinking this.”

“Maybe. I mean... Okay, so a couple nights ago, I had this whole romantic thing planned. I was...” He sighed. “I was going to ask her to marry me.”

Conrad looked at him, a smile cresting across his face. “About time.”

“I know. I was sort of... Maybe I did it wrong, but I told her I needed her help naming Flo.”

Conrad frowned. “That doesn’t sound like a proposal.”

“I know—but see, I was going to say it was like naming our first child, and then suddenly it sounded stupid in my head?—”

“That is stupid.”

“And I just thought... nope. I sort of blew it, and before I could regroup, she asked me to take her home so she could keep working on her book.”

“Penny says she’s close to finishing it.” Conrad turned back to the menu board. “So, you take another shot.”

“That’s the thing. I feel like...” He sighed. “I have the ring and everything, and it all suddenly feels wrong.”

Conrad moved up in line. A popcorn machine bulleted fresh corn into a glass case. Behind that, nacho cheese baked in a hot pot and fresh pretzels spun in a warmer.

The server asked for Conrad’s order. Popcorn for Penny. Nothing for him. Conrad glanced at Jack.

“I’m not sure I know what she wants.”

Con glanced at him. “Um, she said a giant pretzel and cheese.”

Right. Actually, “No, that was Austen. Harper wants nachos. Although I’m so full I could... Okay, I’ll have a long dog, with onions.”

The server punched in his order and Conrad paid with his phone.

“Thanks, bro.”

Conrad moved over to the receiving line.

Jack shoved his hands into his pockets. Outside, the band sang a Ben King cover.

“When you need a friend... a shoulder you can cry on,

someone who understands what you’re going through,

Just look over here, see me standing closer...”

Conrad folded his arms.

“What?”

“So, propose already.” He smiled. “Because if you don’t, I’m going to.”

“Propose to Harper?”

“No, idiot. To Penny. I wanted to propose before I left for training camp, and you’re mucking it all up. I don’t want to steal your limelight, but your window is dimming there, Big Jack.”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know what she wants.”

Conrad’s mouth opened. Closed. “Okay. I think she’s always made that pretty clear.”

“Right.” He hung a hand behind his neck, moved out of the way as an order was called.

A teenager picked up nachos and cheese. Maybe Harper had wanted the pretzel... He couldn’t remember, suddenly.

“Stop panicking, Jack. Harper loves you.”

He nodded. “Except she also loves Duck Lake, and the King’s Inn, and our family—I mean, last night at the bonfire, there was just something in her eyes. Sadness, maybe.”

“She was quiet.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to go out on the road.”

“And live in a school bus? No. That can’t be right.” Conrad grinned.

“A city bus, and it’s pretty sick. We have satellite Internet and an upper deck and?—”

“And it’s a bus . No offense, but, dude, you have a home in Florida. A nice home. With a boat. Just sayin’...”

Jack drew in a breath. Another order was called, this time pizza in a box. “That smells good.”

“There’s clearly something wrong with you. All we’ve done is eat today. I can’t imagine that anything smells good right now.”

“You’d be wrong.” Although maybe not about Flo. In fact... “What if I stayed?”

Conrad lifted a shoulder just as a nearby teen said, “Hey, are you King Con?”

A selfie, a short conversation, and a small gaggle of fans cut off their conversation. Jack retrieved their bags of food, stepped away, and stood at the entrance to the grandstand listening to the band play.

“I never knew a love like this...”

“Sorry about that.” Conrad came over. “A couple kids from the recent hockey game showed up too.”

Jack passed him the bag of popcorn. Conrad stopped him from descending to their front-row seats with a hand to his arm. “What do you mean stayed ?”

“I just... I did something crazy and I took the bar exam in July.”

Conrad stole some popcorn. “Interesting.”

“I just, you know... hate not finishing something.”

More popcorn.

“I thought it might be useful as a tracker too. In case anyone gets into legal trouble.”

“Anyone meaning you .”

He lifted a shoulder. “It helps to know the law when you’re staring down a sheriff. But now I’m thinking... what if she wants to stay? And that’s why... I mean, maybe that’s why she’s being weird.”

“Still don’t think she’s being weird, but she is your girlfriend. You know her best.”

The words hit him, and he drew them in as the band finished up their song.

“I never knew a love like this... ’til there was you.”

He did know her. And the Harper he loved was adventurous and smart and brave and...

A homebody, the girl next door, a woman who wanted a family. A home.

Yeah, that was it.

Applause, and it felt like he’d landed on the right answer. He’d find out the results of the bar, and then... and then he’d figure out the right moment to propose.

And they’d live happily ever after.

* * *

Alone, it might be simple. Sneak in, grab Luis, sneak out?—

But with Steinbeck in the game, they might actually all live too, so there was that.

“I have to admit, Phoenix, you know how to pick a view.” Steinbeck perched on a clay-tiled roof next to her, having climbed out onto the seven-story building via the Airbnb she’d rented—conveniently close to the safe house.

In fact, maybe she’d consider moving it, since from here it was a simple jump from one building to the next—if one ignored the gap of sure death—and a scramble across a clutter of buildings all the way to the stone balcony built into the roof of the one-room apartment-slash-safe-house.

For a brief time, she’d lived here, back when she was trying to shake off the terror of Krakow, so yes, the view was etched in her memory.

An orange-rose sunset blushed the Douro River, turning the red roofs flanking each shore a deep copper, and on the water, boats stacked up, one against the other, along the harbor.

Spanning the river, the impressive Dom Luís I Bridge, created by the architect of the Statue of Liberty, cast a golden glow across the water.

From the wharf and the long stone boardwalk, cobbled streets wound uphill to the district of Ribeira, the historic buildings bathed in soft light, the sound of fado music drifting up from the street cafés.

Across the river, in the Vila Nova de Gaia, the terraced restaurants and hotels sparkled against the deepening light, and perched on a tall cliff, the arched entrances of the old Serra do Pilar monastery glowed like eyes over the river.

The Taylor’s Port winery building anchored the other end of the boardwalk.

And overlooking it all, the Baroque Paco Episcopal, shining like a light on a hill.

“I take you to all the best places,” she said, glancing over at Steinbeck.

He wore a black shirt and a pair of dark cargo pants, and frankly, he looked like a thief. But he grinned at her, those blue eyes sparking, a smile on his face, and oh, focus.

Because it was one thing to play a role in a game of normal. Completely another to have this man in her real life, shoulder to shoulder...

“Am I ever going to be rid of you?”

She shook the question away and focused on the route. “Listen. There’s cameras. And a wire all around the balcony, just like at my place. You trip it, an alarm sounds. He’ll know we’re coming.”

“So?”

“He might shoot us.”

He glanced at her. “You go first.”

“Coward.”

“Brawk, brawk, baby. I’ve already been shot once hanging out with you.”

Oh. Right.

He drew in a breath. “Hey. Kidding. You also saved my life. So—I’ll go first?—”

“You’re right. He might not recognize you.” She put a hand on his arm. Muscles. Hello. “But I go first. Let’s go.”

She scrambled down the roof, careful not to dislodge any tiles, and made the leap to the next building.

Flatter roof, so nothing fell, and she crawled up to the peak as he followed her.

Across the ridgeline, and there below, another short drop and they’d land right on the stone-covered balcony. A light burned inside.

She glanced at Steinbeck. “On the off chance that the Russians have found him?—”

“I got you?—”

“Save Luis.”

He cocked his head at her. “No one dies on my watch. Just go.”

Her mouth tightened and she gauged the drop—seven stories down. Six-foot gap. She motioned him back and he complied.