Chapter 11
B eth woke as Kane’s truck came to a halt outside the liquor store. She’d only meant to close her eyes to ease her headache. That had been two hours ago.
“Did you have a nice nap?” He parked in front of the double doors covered in whiskey and beer ads and cut the engine.
“Did I look like I was?” Yawning, she stretched her arms forward and released the tension her shoulders. She never fell asleep in the car, but this had been her most decent slumber in a long time.
“You were out cold.”
“Good.” That meant she hadn’t talked, cried, or screamed in her sleep.
He scanned the parking lot dotted with half a dozen vehicles. “We’re still ten miles from your parents’ house. Don’t they have liquor stores in North Benson?”
“Yes, but I like this one. It’s never crowded.” And it wasn’t owned by the brother of the biggest mouth in the gossip brigade. She bit her tongue and willed North Benson’s notorious pack of judgmental housewives to do the same.
Now that would be a Christmas miracle. Maybe she and Kane should skip the party.
She eyed him as he grabbed his cowboy hat from the back seat and placed it on his head. With a smooth movement belying the metal attached to his hip, he slid out of the truck. As she stared at his ass encased in worn jeans, she wondered what he’d look like sliding off a horse.
Sliding into bed.
Sliding into…
She squeezed her legs together to quell the delicious flare between her thighs. Maybe her plan to skip the party wasn’t the wisest idea.
She’d be alone with Kane.
In front of the fireplace with rum-laced hot chocolate and no willpower to resist the irresistible package by the Christmas tree.
Going to the party with him at her side might be like jumping in front of a firing squad, but she’d take the heat. Yes, she’d die from embarrassment if Kane found out about her cursed past, but it was better than risking his life if she got too close, like carnally close, and fell for him.
She was already halfway there.
Kane appeared by her door before she could open it. As he helped her out, he scanned the strip mall and led her to the entrance. “How many bottles of wine do you need?”
“Just a couple. I was going to get some after I picked up the cake last night, but?—”
Kane stopped her from grabbing the door handle. “I go first.”
She raised her eyebrows as he pulled the door open and peered around the space. A moment later, he pulled her inside. She eyed his broad back as he strode in front of her, somehow keeping an eye on her and their surroundings. Following, she trailed him to the end of the aisle and touched his shoulder. “What I want is right here.”
A car door slammed, followed by another. She glanced out the windows. Two young guys who barely looked legal threw up the hoods on their sweatshirts and hurried toward the entrance. A muscle ticced in Kane’s jaw. Quickly, she yanked two bottles from the shelf.
As the guys in the hoodies approached the register, a new wine she’d never seen caught her eye. “This looks good. I should get one for…”
Kane shoved her behind a display of whiskey bottles. “Get down and stay put.”
She gasped as Hoodie One, the shorter guy, appeared near the entrance. He raised his wild, bloodshot gaze. A gun followed. Déjà vu punched her in the throat as she jerked her head to his friend by the register. The weapon he pointed at the clerk behind the counter didn’t waver. Neither did his unhinged stare.
Not again. Not again.
She reached into her tote bag.
“Don’t even think about it,” Kane growled at her from the corner of his mouth as he slowly positioned himself between Hoodie One and Hoodie Two. “Listen, guys. I’m not going to do anything stupid, but if you hurt my girl, all bets are off.”
His girl.
Pain slashed through her arm as memories of a cold, dark alley overlaid with the present.
No.
Seconds seemed to stretch into minutes as she pulled the weapon from her bag. Kane wouldn’t be the next man to die defending her.
Before she could raise her gun, Hoodie One, by the counter, shook as if waking up from a trance. Kane swung his leg in a wide, graceful arc. The steel slammed into the teen’s midsection and sent him sprawling in her direction. Beth jumped back as he fell face-first into the whiskey display. The force shot her onto her ass as boxes and bottles crashed to the tile floor. Pain lanced up her spine. Fighting for breath, she sprang to her knees and trained her gun on the fallen guy.
A choked inhale lodged in her throat as she looked up. Kane, looking more commanding, more intense than any action movie hero, stood between the hooded assailants, a weapon pointed at each of them.
He shifted his gaze to her without moving another muscle. “You can put your gun down. I got this. Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, air heaving from her lungs in short, painful pants. Broken glass scraped under her feet as she pushed herself from the ground.
He’s not here. I’m safe.
She repeated the affirmation. Her mind flashed back to that dark alley, but she didn’t scream Danny’s name in her head. She screamed Kane’s. The switch rippled surprise through her tortured psyche.
Kane adjusted his stance to face her as she caught a glimpse of his weapon still in its holster. Her gaze ping-ponged between the pistols in each of his hands. In the seconds between her falling and sitting up, he’d disarmed two assailants without even drawing his gun?
How on earth?
The cocky dimpled grin he shot her as sirens approached said he knew exactly what she was thinking.
After the cops finished taking their statements, Beth followed Kane to the liquor store exit, still in awe at how quickly he’d neutralized the situation. He hadn’t even been breathing hard, for Christ’s sake. He’d kicked the bad guys’ asses, his cowboy hat still perched on his head, and held them at gunpoint with their own weapons like it was any other day wine shopping.
But it wasn’t just any other day. It was a day in her company. North Benson’s infamous?—
“You holding up okay?”
She glanced at Kane as she pulled the collar of her coat around her neck. “Yeah, just fine.”
“Bullshit.” He opened the door. “I can feel you shaking.”
She was, but fear wasn’t the only reason she trembled. “Do you really think those were just two local addicts looking to score drug money?” That had been the consensus of every officer who’d streamed from the three squad cars parked in the lot. But the guys in hoodies weren’t just addicts. They were boys with families and friends who would care if they went to jail. Would mourn them if they died of an overdose. They were the embodiment of why the Diablos could not get the Triple X formula.
“I don’t know.” Kane paused in the doorway and scanned the parking lot. “Headquarters is looking into it.”
She followed his gaze and searched the crowd of onlookers behind the police barricade for Chavez’s face. “How does headquarters know about the robbery already?” She hadn’t seen him make a call.
“Superpowers, sugarplum.”
He shifted the wine bottles in his hand the owner had given her, free of charge. Kane had refused a pint of aged whiskey with a tip of his hat. “Just doing my duty, sir,” he’d said in that country twang.
Christ. Duty had never looked so damn sexy. She should be terrified. Instead, exhilaration flowed through her veins like some aftermath aphrodisiac that urged her to convince Kane it was his duty to do her. She twisted a curl around her finger. If only he could be a casual hookup. She’d enjoy that body over and over until the sun rose.
And she’d never see him again.
But he wasn’t some guy she’d never cross paths with. He was Scarlett’s colleague. Chris’s friend. Her protector, and dammit, she liked him.
A lot.
She couldn’t fall, not even if her heart did a little dance when he threatened the hoodie and called her “his girl.” Not even if those powerful kicks and his graceful speed were sexier than an all-male revue.
“Beth.”
She snapped her mind from her what-if party and yanked her gaze away from the crowd. As she faced Kane, he gently pulled her hand from her hair. Threading his fingers through hers, he guided her into his truck and shut the door. As he spoke to an officer, she searched the crowd for Chavez one last time.