Page 128 of Falling for the Playboy Pilot

“Tell Dalton—” My voice cracked. “Tell him I’m sorry. What I said before was stupid. We wasted so much time. I should’ve just let myself⁠—”

“No. No goodbyes, you hear me?” Laser’s voice shook. “You’re not done yet. Help is coming.”

I tightened the straps on the harness. “Sorry, bud,” I whispered. “This is going to be a rough ride.”

I staggered to my feet, dragging his weight behind me, and pushed the door open with my shoulder. The outside world hit me like a wall. Heat blasted my skin. I stepped into a nightmare.

Any hope I thought I had was zapped away.

The town was unrecognizable. Smoke poured between buildings, flames lapping at the sandwich shop. And the wind. It was shrieking, blowing smoke and ash everywhere. The world tilted.

I’d like to believe I was some powerful superhero that could conquer anything. But I’m not invincible. I’m not even that strong. I remember something I read a while ago. The reason heroes are so special is because there are so few. It’s rare. Millions of people die and only one or two get to be a hero.

The odds were not in our favor.

Pickle’s body was still in the diner. I decided that was the best option. I was about to go back inside to accept my fate when I heard a strange noise coming from the opposite direction of the fire.

Hoofbeats? What the hell?

I blinked against the sting in my eyes. The sound grew louder. More distinct. Was it the four horsemen? It sure as hell felt like the apocalypse.

It had to be a hallucination.

And then I saw them.

Two horses. Not four. How weird was it that I was actually relieved to see it wasn’t the four horsemen?

I knew that horse. Honeycrisp. She belonged to Martha.

The rider looked like him. Dalton.

No way.

Dalton sucked at riding. And the man on Honeycrisp moved like he was born in the saddle, leading a second horse behind him.

I swayed on my feet. I was hallucinating. Had to be. Too much smoke, too little oxygen. This wasn’t real. This was my subconscious giving me a happy ending. I got to ride off into the sunset with Dalton.

A smile formed, cracking my dry lips. “Okay,” I murmured. “Not so bad.”

I collapsed inside the door next to Pickle. I could feel the smile on my face and a feeling of peace washed over me.

If this was a dream, I didn’t want to wake up. If this was death, I’d welcome it, because the last thing I saw was him riding through smoke and fire like some kind of cowboy angel.

And then everything went black.