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BRINLEY
“Somebody help me!”
The teasing plea flew from my mouth after Rowan pinned me against the closed bookstore’s glass, gripped my butt firmly in his hands, and kissed me breathless. I was pretty sure the man had a butt fetish. But since it was my butt he worshiped and I reaped the benefits from it, I was okay with that.
We’d just finished locking up Brinley’s Books—the same name I originally had for my first store that I’d lost—and I was looking forward to getting home so I could have my way with my fiancé.
My desire was amplified tenfold when he pulled back from the kiss we’d just shared and nipped my earlobe, shooting tingles straight to my honeypot, as the girls liked to call it, when joking around.
“Can we go home so the one-eyed monster can come out to play?” I teased.
Rowan growled and grabbed my hand pulling me toward the lot his truck was parked in at the side of all the buildings. Someone was in a hurry. I giggled, but the laughter died when we got to the front of Capri’s place and her light was still on. Everything else was closed and she was still at it.
I yanked on Rowan’s hand to stop him and knocked on the window to get her attention. When she walked out of the back with an unsure look on her face, I felt awful. I probably scared the poor woman. When she noticed it was us, she walked over and flipped the lock, then opened her door.
“Hey,” she said.
“We can help you finish up,” I told her.
She motioned us with her hand to keep moving. “No way. You two get out of here and celebrate, I’m just about finished. Scoot.”
“You sure?” Rowan asked her.
“Positive.” She smiled sweetly. “Congrats and I’ll see you on Monday.”
After dropping Rowan's hand, I walked the few feet that separated us and embraced her in a big hug. “Thank you for all your help again tonight, I couldn’t have done it without you.”
She squeezed me back. “You're welcome. Have a good night.” She released me and winked before shutting the door and locking it again.
Rowan picked my hand back up in his when I returned to his side and we started walking again. We’d just reached the edge of the lot closest to the main street when everything went to hell.
Quickly.
My free hand flew to my forehead to shield my eyes from a pair of high beams that flicked on from a vehicle parked up ahead making it difficult to see. An engine roared to life and when the driver revved it, my blood ran cold. The sound took me back to the evening I wished had never happened. The night my son and I were ran off the road.
A truck shot forward coming straight toward us as Rowan simultaneously released my hand and pushed me behind him. He yelled for me to get down as shots rang out. Without thought and doing as I was told, I dropped to the ground. My hands and knees hit the concrete with a brutal impact, gravel digging into my tender skin before I was flat on my stomach.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Rowan followed me down and landed right on top of me, the weight of him heavy against my body. Was he trying to shield me?
“Don’t move,” he commanded in a strained voice.
What was wrong?
He didn’t sound right. Scared to death, that time I didn’t do as I was told as I pushed with all my might to move his solid frame off me and rolled him to his back. Rowan groaned in response. My hand was wet and I squinted as I moved it closer to my face.
Oh my God.
“Somebody help me!” I screamed, my words a repeat of the half-hearted plea I’d spoken earlier. But this time, there was nothing playful about my desperate cry for help.
Blood! There was so much blood!
I can’t lose him like I lost Luke.
“Where are you hit?” I wanted to run my hands over every inch of him, but I didn’t want to hurt him.
He took a couple deep breaths. “Leg and arm.”
