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“Some things are worth sharing,” I replied, let that sink in. “Come on, let’s walk a bit, then head back for lunch.”
Dec dropped his attempts to get Hannah to open up, and for that I was grateful. He wasn’t a cop at the moment and had to remember she wasn’t under arrest. I was as curious as he was as to what had Hannah so closed-mouth about her life before Bridgewater, but pushing her wouldn’t get us anywhere.
Lunch was easy going and fun. Listening to Hannah laugh with Cara and her husbands as we ate burgers on the back deck, watching as she pitched in with the clean-up and talked with Dec about his day-to-day duties at the department…the woman fit. Not just between us in bed either. In our lives. Hell, she probably fit in better than I ever had. She looked like she’d been born to be here, with us, in this perfect little corner of the world. If her easy laughter and rare chattiness were anything to go by, she was at ease here. Maybe even at home.
All too soon the afternoon had to come to an end—a damn shame since I happened to know for a fact that the master bedroom at the cabin had a king-sized bed that would fit all three of us just fine. But Hannah had given us a night and a day and we’d promised to get her back to town in time for her dinner shift.
As if disappointing her wasn’t bad enough, I sure as hell wouldn’t risk Jessie’s wrath if it was my fault she was late. The three of us bid our goodbyes to Cara and her men and climbed back in the truck. Hannah wasn’t nearly as talkative on the ride back to town, but she still had that relaxed air about her that was such a change from the nervous persona we’d grown used to.
About halfway back she even relaxed enough to slink down, put her head on Declan’s shoulder and fall asleep. I shifted in my seat remembering all we’d done to wear her out.
CHAPTER EIGHT
COLE
It had only been a few hours since we had dropped Hannah off at her apartment so she could get ready for her dinner shift, but I was already itching to see her. She was like a drug, addictive. I needed my fix. I parked my truck next to Declan’s SUV in the diner’s small lot—it had gone without saying that we’d be having dinner here.
I caught sight of her the moment I walked in. She was at a booth toward the back, dropping of Mr. and Mrs. Hardy’s meals. Mr. Hardy had been friends with my dad back in the day. The older man still ran his ranch, although his daughter now helped him and would take it over when he retired. Dec was sitting at the counter and I slid onto the seat next to him. We both watched as Hannah came back with a few dirty dishes, put them into a plastic tub. Turning, she noticed the coffee was low and got out the bag to start a new pot. “How’s our girl?”
Dec glanced at me with a wolfish grin. “Pretending like the last twenty-four hours never happened.”
“Huh.” My response was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. I couldn’t say I was surprised. We’d known from the start that she’d resist the idea of something more than a one-night-stand, but now that we knew without a doubt she was the one for us, I was a little disappointed. Last night, hell, even this morning and our time with Cara and husbands, had been incredible. There was a connection that went far beyond chemistry. I knew it. Dec knew it. Hannah knew it, too, but she was refusing to admit it.
She hadn’t noticed my arrival and just as I went to call out a hello, plates clattered to the floor at the back of the diner.
“Help, he’s choking,” Mrs. Hardy shouted.
Everyone in the place rushed into action at once, me and Dec included. Even though he wasn’t on duty, he had his radio. I heard him calling for an ambulance as we reached the back booth where Mr. Hardy stood and clutched his throat, his face turning a horrific shade of purple. Panic was in his eyes and he was frantic to breathe, but not a sound escaped. Sam Kane was already behind him attempting to give him the Heimlich, his clenched hands about the older man’s middle, pulling back hard as the maneuver required. Sam was strong and even his actions weren’t dislodging the obstruction. All at once he passed out, slumping in Sam’s hold. He lowered the man to the floor, but we stood around, not knowing what to do now.
Shit, I’d never felt more useless in my life and I was sure everyone else felt the same way. I ran my hand over my hair as I stared down at a family friend in trouble. There was nothing we could do until the ambulance arrived except pray that it wasn’t too late. I knew CPR and the Heimlich, and if the airway wasn’t open, there was no way to save him.
Mrs. Hardy had her fingers over her lips. She wasn’t crying, but she appeared too stunned to do anything but stare.
“Out of my way.” I barely recognized Hannah’s voice as she pushed me to the side and forced her way through the crowd of patrons who were hovering.
I reached a hand out reflexively to keep her out of the fray. “Hannah, what are you—”
She shot me a glare as she shook me off. “Let me get to him. I can help.”
It was shock that had me dropping me hand from her arm. I barely recognized the woman in front of me. Gone was the skittish waitress. In her place was a woman with so much confidence, I swear to god she stood a foot taller. She was the epitome of calm as she kept moving toward the man, not so gently pushing people out of her way like she’d been a bouncer in her former life.
She ordered Sam out of the way and dropped to her knees directly beside the unconscious man’s head. She placed a few things on the unmoving man’s chest. A straw…and a knife. A sharp little paring knife used to cut fruit.
What the hell?
That was enough to break me out of my frozen stupor and I followed Hannah’s path through the bystanders and to Mr. Hardy, Dec right behind me. By the time we reached her side, she had her fingers on his carotid, then slid them up to feel the front of his throat near his Adam’s apple.
“Hannah,” Dec said. If she heard him, there was no sign of it. Her expression was focused on her task, her lips set in a thin line.
Apparently she’d found what she was looking for. Keeping one finger on his throat, she reached for the knife. I moved forward, ready to grab her arm if need be. “Hannah, what the hell are you doing?”
When she looked up, she was calm—calmer than anyone else in the diner. Her gaze met mine. “I’m saving this man’s life. If you don’t want him to die, you’ll back off.”
She was serious. I found myself taking a step back as her words sank in. I glanced over at Dec and saw the same shock on his face, but he didn’t try to stop her. We watched wordlessly as she slowly but confidently put the knife to his neck, pressed down and cut a slit.
She didn’t seem to notice the gasps and little shrieks of horror from the those who were crowded around her. Calmly and with steady hands, she used a finger to open the cut, grabbed the straw and inserted it in the small hole.
Leaning over she breathed into the straw, and the effect was immediate. Through his plaid shirt, I could see his chest rising, just a touch, enough to prove air was getting into
