Kopp slid to the end of his seat and looked up at him with raised eyebrows. Nate sidestepped, and Kopp stood and turned to Sam.

Her eyes registered shock—and something else that had Nate rolling his eyes.

Okay, fine. Kopp might be considered attractive in some circles. Female circles, mostly. Based on her reaction, definitely in Sam's circle.

"Your voice sounded older," she said.

Right. Flirt with him, Sam. That'll help.

Kopp smiled and held out his hand to shake. "Garrison Kopp."

She took it and shook. "Samantha Messenger." Was she blushing?

Nate blew out a breath loudly. "Are you two done?"

They ignored him. "What does Marisa want to do?" Kopp asked.

Sam glanced at Nate before she answered. "She doesn't want Nate arrested. He's trying to help her."

"Do you think she can trust me?"

Sam swallowed. "Let me ask her." She turned to type on her laptop while Kopp turned back to Nate. "Sit down."

This meeting had spun so far out of Nate's control he almost laughed as he slid back into the booth. Kopp sat and slid to the inside end of the booth. When Sam turned to speak, he patted the space beside him. "Why don't you join us?"

She gathered her laptop and her bag and slid in beside Kopp. "I asked her. I'm waiting for a reply."

"Good. You want some fries?"

Sam smiled and took one off his plate. "Thanks."

Kopp met Nate's eyes. "Seriously, man. Help yourself."

Nate just sipped his soda and waited.

A moment later, Sam's MacBook dinged. She read the message and looked at Nate. "She said to trust him. She wants you to take him to the cabin."

Well, at least Nate wasn't getting arrested today. He hoped he could say the same about Marisa.

Chapter 10

MARISA PACED BEHIND the sofa. Her eyes were scratchy from lack of sleep, her muscles achy. The night before, the soft mattress had wrapped her in luxury while her thoughts had wrapped her in dread.

How was she supposed to sleep without her daughter by her side?

Would Marisa even be able to keep Ana? She hadn't considered the danger when she'd decided to adopt the newborn. At the time, Marisa had thought she'd spend the rest of her life in Mexico. Oh, sure, she'd hoped to come home, but not as a fugitive. And now... Would Ana have a mother in prison, or would the adoption fall through entirely?

Assuming Ana survived.

Rae stepped through the front door, little Johnny on her hip. Marisa had tried not to cry—and failed—when she'd first seen the seven-month-old. He smiled and cooed, his dark hair and skin so like Ana's. Marisa physically ached for her child. How could she survive if she didn't get Ana back?

Now, Johnny was desperately trying to grab the phone from his mother, who held it to her ear. "Okay, I'll tell her." She paused. "Love you, too."