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“Oomph,” he grunted as he wrapped an arm around her.
“I thought you were dead,” she said as she buried her face in his shoulder.
He pulled back from her, still holding her tight, and looked down at her.
“Let me get this straight,” he said. “You thought that in a fight, your sissy ex-fiancé would win?”
“No,” she said. “I mean, maybe. Well, look at yourself. You’re naked and he had a knife. It wasn’t exactly a fair fight.”
“You’re right there. It wasn’t a fair fight,” Lake told her, clearly offended. “I’m a trained professional and he’s an idiot.”
Kirsty found herself smiling in spite of everything.
“Can we deal with your wounded ego later?” she said. “We have other problems.”
“Like what?” He shrugged and she felt the action ripple through her body. “The women
have the idiot under control. What more is there?”
“My shop is on fire,” she said.
He stilled.
“Don’t joke.”
“No joke.”
She wrapped her arms around him. She didn’t want to think about the fire. There was nothing she could do there anyway, except try to put the blaze out with her mind. Others were dealing with it. Right now, she needed to be with Lake.
“We better go see what’s happening,” Lake told her.
She shook her head against him. She’d deal with the shop later.
“Are you hurt?” she asked instead.
“Cuts and bruises,” Lake told her, and pulled her tight.
She squeezed him hard. He groaned.
“There might be a broken rib or two,” he added.
She loosened her grip and started to step away from him.
“You could have told me,” she said.
He pulled her back against him.
“I want you here,” he said.
Kirsty smiled as she let out a deep sigh. This is where she wanted to be too. Here. With Lake.
“Get off that man,” Officer Donaldson’s voice carried over the crowd. “Or I’ll arrest you for obstruction.”
“Then I’ll sue for stupidity,” Betty’s voice shouted back.
Lake limped towards the noise, dragging Kirsty with him. Kirsty looked down at the snow and winced—blood. So much for cuts and bruises. She had to find some shoes and clothes for the man. She held him tight. Soon. Very soon.
As the crowd parted, Lake began to laugh. Kirsty felt it vibrate through her. She looked to see what was funny and grinned. Brandon was trussed up like a chicken and Betty was sitting on him, holding the Scottish flag that Jean had been using as a weapon.
