Table of Contents

  Title Page

  No More Running

  Copyright

  Thank You!

  Author Note:

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue One

  Epilogue Two

  Books by Brynn Paulin

  No More Running

  Steamy in Sweetville

  By Brynn Paulin

  Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC

  Powered by Your Imagination

  No More Running

  by

  Brynn Paulin

  Jory

  I’ve wanted to claim Penny since the day she came to town. But every time I approach, she runs the other way. I’ve had enough. I don’t know her secrets, but there will be no more running after I get her in my arms.

  Penny

  After years of being told what to do, I finally have freedom. I have my business, and I’m fulfilling my dreams. If I’m a little lonely, that’s the price I’ll pay. But Jory… He threatens everything I think I want. Can I give in? Let him love me? The thing is, no matter how much I fight, I think I might just love him, too.

  Copyright

  © 2021, Brynn Paulin

  No More Running

  Cover Art by Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC

  Electronic Format ISBN: 978-1-62344-388-7

  Published by: Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC

  Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

  Thank You!

  Thank you for your purchase of No More Running.

  I hope you enjoy the story and will consider leaving a review or telling a friend about the book.

  I love hearing from readers! To keep in touch and follow my news, please visit me on my website at www.brynnpaulin.com.

  Author Note:

  The timeline of this story overlaps slightly with Pants on Fire. It isn’t necessary to read Pants on Fire before enjoying this story, though I hope you will read it, too. I have endeavored not to give away secrets from Pants on Fire in the writing of this book, so therefore the investigation about the arsonist and that person’s identity is not revealed in this story. Pants on Fire and No More Running are written to be separate stories.

  Love ya! ~~ Brynn

  Prologue

  ~ Penny ~

  I stared at my grandpa, who’d just had his nurse bring him a sealed envelope from his filing cabinet.

  “What are you talking about. You’re going to be fine,” I insisted, my voice breaking while I spoke. I knew he’d been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and after a long hard battle, was in hospice, but I couldn’t lose my hope. Not now after all this time. I swore I was the only one who wasn’t already counting his money.

  “Honey, you know that’s not true.” He took deep breaths, even that little bit taking so much out of him.

  The nurse tried to hand him the manila envelope, but he shook his head and weakly waved it toward me.

  “Leave us…please.”

  “Grandpa,” I whispered.

  “No. Listen. I…know…what they’re…trying…to make you…do.” With halting words and sometimes long pauses, he explained that the envelope was my salvation. My escape from my parents and their plans. Everything I’d need for a new life away from here. A life that wouldn’t include being forced into marriage.

  And I knew this was the last time I’d ever see the most important person in my life. The man who’d always been there for me and practically raised me. With one arm thrown carefully over him, I sobbed into his shoulder while he gently patted his hand over my head.

  “I love you,” I whispered. My chest heaved painfully. I wasn’t ready for this. I’d thought, maybe, when he passed, I might be more prepared. I’d been a fool to think that.

  “I love you, my Penny. Give me…peace. Leave me…with…knowing you’re…safe, child.”

  “I will.”

  “Blue car in…garage. Leave yours here,” he gasped. “Don’t…go home. Just…run.”

  My heart breaking, I spent a few more minutes with him, until he made me leave. I promised him that I would do what he said, that he would always be in my heart.

  “I’ll see you later,” I called to him as I left. It wouldn’t be here, but I knew someday, I would again.

  The brand new blue sedan was right where he said, gassed up and waiting. I had no idea where I was going, but I knew I wasn’t going back to my parents’ house. There was nothing there I wanted. I did stop at my secret storage space and get my four boxes, personal things…cookbooks, journals and kitchen gear I didn’t trust near any family.

  No one cared about my hobbies and interests. No one knew but grandpa. Once I was seated again, I opened the envelope to find out where I was going. Inside was banking information, lots of legal documents, and a sealed letter from the man who’d given this to me.

  Sweetville. I was going to Sweetville.

  Chapter One

  ~ Penny ~

  “When are you going on a date with me?”

  “I already went on a date with you.” Wiping the counter then glancing at my stock levels after the morning rush at my shop, Simply Sweets, I ignored his stare. Jory Ferguson. Assistant and woodworker at the local craftsman’s shop, volunteer firefighter and overall stalker.

  Okay, I was well aware of how stalkers operated, and technically, he probably wasn’t one in the creepy, Lifetime movie sense, but he was always somewhere in my periphery.

  Within days of landing in this town, I’d literally landed on Jory. He’d startled me, and I’d fallen off a ladder and into his arms. Now, he occasionally called me his Penny from Heaven. To which I always rolled my eyes, but it made me a little gooey inside, too. That day, Jory Ferguson saw me, claimed me, said he wanted to marry me.

  Of course, I didn’t take him seriously. Still, he showed up here every day. At the bakery I owned in Sweetville. My grandfather had bought the building here and ensured I had enough money to do anything I wanted with it. Of course, I’d opened a sweet’s shop. It was what I’d always wanted—freedom and to be a baker.

  I had to admit, I’d never expected to meet a hot firefighter when I’d come here as basically a bride on the run. I’d never expected I’d settle in a place like Sweetville, either.

  “That wasn’t a date,” he argued. “That was you agreeing to be in the same place as me, at the same time.”

  True.

  I just didn’t want to mess up my life here. I was one of theirs now, and I had no desire to ever leave. My new town wasn’t even on most maps and had become my haven. Two years ago, I’d followed my grandpa’s directions to my new “home.” I’d thought I’d lose myself in a big metropolis like New York City, not a place akin to Mayberry USA.

  Jory had found me two days after I’d arrived, up to my elbows in sawdust and flour in my new business. I’d been working around a remodel while doing test baking in the kitchen.

  There’d been no sawdust in the cinnamon rolls. Promise. Jory had been there to help with an inspection by the fire department. After I’d fallen right into his arms, I’d offered to let him sample the goods—the baked goods, of course. He’d taken one bite of the pastry I’d just baked and fallen in love.

  And just like that, he’d decided I was his. I rebuffed; he kept pursuing. Worse, as far as the townspeople went, he and I were together. Another man wouldn’t even dare flirt with me.

  That side effect was okay. Totally fine. I wasn’t interested in being with anyone. Even Jory.

  Okay, that was a lie.

  I did want to spend time with him. I just couldn’t. I didn’t want to lead him on when I fully intended to be the little old lady making pies and cakes at the corner shop. I enjoyed my freedom now that I had it. I’d run from one man. I wasn’t tumbling into the arms of another…even if he was the hottest man around.

  Now, I ignored his complaint about our date/no date. “Did you want something from the case?”

  “Let me take you to the spring festival.”

  I sighed. The man had a one track mind.

  “Are you asking me or telling me?” I inquired. Turning away, I grabbed freshly baked cupcakes to refill the case. “Because if you’re telling me, you’re barking up the wrong tree. And if you’re asking me…no.”

  “Penny.” His chiding tone betrayed his annoyance with me.

  After two years, I kept waiting for him to give up and stop his pursuit. So far, no dice. Even so, I sensed he’d reached the end of his patience. Soon. Eventually…

  With his breaking point, I wasn’t sure what to expect.

  Would he finally walk away? My chest ached to think about that, even if it was for the best. And tha
t knowledge drove my next words.

  “Jory, you’re a great guy. I’m sure you’re a catch. You’re talented and hardworking on top of being a nice guy—”

  “A nice guy,” he bristled, frowning. Obviously, like most men, he thought being nice was a death knell, believing all women were attracted to bad boy alphaholes. Maybe in fiction. In real life, I could never imagine dealing with that.

  “That’s not a bad thing. I’m just saying…you should find a nice girl to date and marry.”

  My heart gave a painful lurch. That was the last thing I really wanted. Emotionally. My head knew otherwise.

  “Not gonna happen, sweetness. All this…” He indicated to his well-built body and the way it so nicely filled out the light blue shirt and navy pants of his firefighter’s uniform. His heated look belied his boy-next-door looks. He was an angel with sinful thoughts. “This is all yours. It’ll be a shame if it never gets put to use.”

  I huffed a laugh of disbelief. “That’s pretty cocky. Does that line ever work for you?”

  “You’ll have to let me know. I’ve never said it to anyone but you. I’m not a player, Penny. I’ve been waiting for something sweet…simply sweet.”

  I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. When he didn’t call me Penny from Heaven, he always referred to me as sweetness or talked about how sweet I was. Probably due to me owning the bakery. And in part… Well, his gaze said different things about what he thought and what he’d like to do.

  Maybe, if circumstances were different…

  Cutting off that thought and pushing it aside, I walked away and grabbed a tray of cinnamon rolls from the rack. They wouldn’t last long. They were one of my bestsellers.

  “Did you make those?” Jory asked as I slipped the tray into the case.

  “Yes.”

  He clutched his heart. “See! You can say that word.”

  I groaned. “Jory.”

  “Sweetness.”

  This man would be the death of me. He’d only gotten more impetuous since I’d gone with him to the Christmas Festival as friends a few months ago. On the date that wasn’t a date. That had been a mistake. Now, he was determined to con a real outing from me. God forbid. He’d have us to the altar in nothing flat if I agreed to that. And I wasn’t so sure I’d fight him on it. I was weak to Jory Ferguson, even if he didn’t know it.

  Part of me kind of wouldn’t mind marrying him. Another part of me protested fervently. I didn’t trust men. I didn’t trust anyone to find out about my past, in particular about my wealthy family. In my experience, I was just a means to an end—a very rich end.

  “I’m not available.”

  His gaze hardened. “What do you mean you’re not available?”

  “Just that. I can’t date you.”

  “Why? Are you in a long-distance relationship or something? I know you’re not seeing anyone in Sweetville.”

  I crossed my arms. “And just how do you know that?”

  We stared at each other, neither of us giving an inch.

  “Who is it?” he growled.

  “None of your business. I’m not yours.”

  “The hell you’re not.”

  I sucked in a breath. He’d never gone so far. His words didn’t surprise me; they infuriated me. “I don’t belong to anyone!” I yelled, glad my shop was empty other than him. “I’m not some man’s property.”

  My hand slapped over my mouth. What the hell? Why the hell had I said that? This was just one conversation amongst many with Jory. Practically innocuous. Or it had been.

  Two damn years and I’d just gone and let the cat halfway out of the bag.

  Deep down, maybe, I thought it might scare him away. Even if I didn’t want to. God knew the man turned my brain to mush.

  “Did someone hurt you?” he demanded, every bit of his playfulness long gone. His stare was on high alert, studying me as if he could see inside my soul and discover all my secrets. Thing was, given the chance, I knew he could.

  I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to lie. But I couldn’t tell the truth.

  Before I could answer, his phone went off. The blaring siren alarm echoed in the otherwise empty shop. We both knew without him looking that it was a fire…another fire in a string that had been popping up around Sweetville. No one had said the word yet, but we all knew they were arsons.

  Jory appeared torn, then his jaw set, seeming to turn to steel as he tapped to silence the device. A muscle near his jaw ticked, his green eyes stormy. Damn. Why did he have to be so handsome and intense? His turbulent blue stare lit with fire that would likely rival the one he was about to run into.

  My chest clenched up, and I couldn’t breathe. I hated the danger of his job, no matter how necessary, but I also respected and admired that he served the community this way.

  “I’m coming back. If you’re closed, you’d better answer when I knock on your apartment door. Or else I’ll be sure I smell smoke, and I’ll have no choice but to bust in.” His voice was practically a growl, and I knew he was absolutely serious. He would do that.

  “You wouldn’t,” I still said.

  “Try me. I’m not as nice as you seem to think. Today, you’re telling me the truth, and we’re putting this shit behind us. I’ll be back.”

  Pivoting on the ball of his foot, he ran to his truck, lifting his phone to talk into it and likely report in. I closed my eyes and sent up a prayer that he’d be safe to annoy me another day.

  Still watching, I grabbed a foam container then took one of the cinnamon rolls from the case and set it aside for him. They were his favorite. I liked to tell myself they were half the reason he came in here every day. Not true, but things were easier that way.

  What wouldn’t be easy, though? Coming up with something to tell him tonight, because I had no doubt he’d be true to his word and come pounding on my door in a few hours.

  Chapter Two

  ~ Jory ~

  I was getting damn sick of these blazes. Being a fireman was great. But whoever was behind the town’s arsons had resorted to nuisance fires this week. Not that I wanted to run into a five-alarm or anything. It still pissed me off because I’d been making some headway with Penny today. Her admission wasn’t positive, but it had been an insight into my difficulty getting her to go out with me.

  Whatever the roadblock was, I wasn’t giving up. That was for sure. What I’d told her was true. She was mine, and I wasn’t taking no for an answer and walking away. Not that I’d ever force her into intimacy. Never! But she was stuck with my presence whether she liked it or not. I’d wait out her yes—a yes I knew she wanted to give me. That wasn’t ego. She wanted me. I’d seen how she watched me, and the desire in her brown eyes was an ego boost I couldn’t deny. She just wouldn’t cross that threshold.

  After all this time, I liked to think I knew Penny. I’d studied her better than I ever had for my exams in school. I might not know her background because she hid that within a locked vault, but I saw how kind she was to animals and kids, how she volunteered at the shelter, her joy in baking and creating, and her devotion to her business. She perked up when she saw me, a spark igniting inside her that she didn’t have for other customers. I wasn’t just some customer. I was her man, her destiny, and I believed her subconscious knew it. Maybe, her conscious did too, but she wouldn’t admit it. Yet.

  I understood it. She wasn’t looking for a relationship. I hadn’t been looking for love when Penny fell into my arms, either, but in that one moment, I knew she was my one.

  If only I could convince her of that. I was ready to kiss some sense into her, that was for sure!

  I chuckled to myself. Perhaps, it was a good thing we’d been called to a nuisance fire and not a five-alarm. My head wasn’t in the game. I moved by instinct and training rather than full thought. It was also a good thing I wasn’t in the workshop today. I’d likely cut off a finger while I tried to figure out what Penny wasn’t telling me and what my next move would be.

  Had someone tried to hurt her? Was she coming out of an abusive relationship? I couldn’t hold back my anger when I thought someone might have hurt her. I also disliked the idea of her being with another guy, even if that hypothetical relationship was before me.