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I’m shaking. Thunder slams the sky above and the rain thrums down loud on my truck.
I look about, but the only vehicle I can see is Leland’s. He’s already out of the car and racing to me. Flinging open the door, he checks me over with gentle hands.
“Are you okay? Any injuries?”
Shaking my head, I say, “No. Did . . . are they okay?”
“Bastards.” His mouth is grim and hard like steel, eyes a storm to rival the sky. Leland unbuckles my seatbelt and takes my head in his hands, then kisses me. “No. They took off. I called Lawson and gave them the license plate. It’s a rental, I think.”
I breathe, and when he kisses me again, I revel in it. There’s comfort there, the knowing this man, strong and sure in so many ways, is with me.
I’m a woman who can stand on her own and has, but there’s something about him as my support that I need at that moment. And I hold it close, resting my head on his shoulder.
“Come on, sweet Sarah, you’re gonna get a little wet, but we should get going.”
“Okay.” Sitting back up, I go to buckle my belt, but his hand comes down on mine.
He meets my gaze. “If you think you’re going to drive, you’re crazy. One of the deputies will drive your truck back.”
“No—”
“Dakota’s already given your spare keys over.” He helps me from the car, whether I want it or not.
My legs almost buckle from the aftermath of the adrenaline rush, and he encloses me in his arms for a moment. “You’re such an asshole.”
“A bossy one. I’m not letting you drive when someone just did that. In my truck now.”
With a sigh and wanting to get out of the rain I do so and in minutes, Leland’s loaded the back of his truck up with my shit.
I pick up the crumpled envelope and read what I can of his scrawl. The driver’s door opens and he gets in.
“Give me that.”
“You have terrible writing.”
“It’s unique.”
I laugh, suddenly happier than I should be. As we hit the road, he tells me he’s just trying to think ahead and cover bases with whatever Alpine might come up with.
“Do you think it was Billy?”
“No, I think it was Alpine who tried to run you off the road. Your ex is strictly hands-off with this kind of stuff. He was in town because of you. My guess is he doesn’t like to share toys, even when he’s done.” His hands tighten on the wheel amoment. “And he wanted to keep prying eyes away as he gets older by just keeping you.”
“I’d hate him, but I just don’t care about him. I mean, I despise him in that way you do, but hate is passionate, and he doesn’t stir that in me.”
“Knew you were a smart woman. Besides, I may have backed him into a corner. You’re about to be a free and single woman.”
I turn sharply to look at him, my pulse thrumming fast. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I’m not saying you should get out there and fuck other men. I’m not letting you, but he signed the papers.”
“If you weren’t driving right now, I’d jump your bones.”
“Wow, who knew all it would take to get you wanting to get up in that with me was a divorce from a pervert? I’d have lined them up.”
“No, thanks, I’m staying single.”
He doesn’t say a word about that, and for a while, we drive in silence. The storm gives over to heavy rain only, and it’s weirdly soothing.
