AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Stan’s stern countenance softened a little with his lips quirking on the corners. “Relax. Your guy just left.” Her boss chuckled, returned to his grill and finished scraping it clean.
Breely let go of the breath she’d been holding, the tension in her body subsiding to be replaced by an unreasonable disappointment.
He’d said he would be leaving at any moment. Too bad he hadn’t stuck around until she’d gotten off work. Breely hadn’t been lying when she’d said she’d like to make a new friend.
Why she’d told him that, she wasn’t sure. She’d met a number of people since she’d escaped to Bozeman to start her new life. Until her last customer of the evening, she hadn’t met anyone she’d wanted to open up to about wanting a friend.
Was it because he’d said he wouldn’t be there longer than the evening? Or was it because he wasn’t that big or intimidating? Most guys stood head and shoulders above her, making her feel like a little girl. The flirt didn’t make her feel like a little girl at all. In fact, he’d made her feel desirable, like the full-grown, mature woman she was.
He'd even called her red hair sexy.
She could forgive that lie because the tone of his voice and the smoldering look in his eyes had set her blood on fire, burning through her veins.
No, he wasn’t the typical muscle-bound hulk of a man most women swooned over. His friend, though older, fit that description to the letter.
The flirt was short and wiry with black hair and brown eyes. When he’d touched her arm, his hand had been firm but gentle.
Breely could imagine those hands smoothing over more than her arm. Her core heated. She could imagine the flirt lying over her. He wouldn’t crush her beneath him. Making love to him would be a partnership in pleasure.
Wow. How long had it been since she’d slept with a man?
Obviously too long if a chance encounter with a guy with a terrible pickup line turned her on. She shook her head and got back to the business at hand.
She quickly finished mopping the kitchen, emptied the bucket and rinsed it clean.
Stan had filled the dishwasher with a tray of plates and glasses and started the cycle. He wiped his hands on his apron, walked toward the swinging door and stopped before pushing through to the dining room. “If you want me to walk you to your car,” he said, “you’ll have to wait for me to lock the front door.”
“That won’t be necessary. I can walk by myself,” Breely said. “I’ll dump the trash on my way out.”
Stan’s brow furrowed. “You sure you can’t wait?”
She smiled. “I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Thanks anyway.”
Stan glanced through the crack in the door. “Last customer is leaving. I’m going to lock the door. Night, Bea.”
“Goodnight, Stan.” Breely grabbed the heavy trash bag and lugged it toward the back door. She had to back into the door to keep it open as she pulled the big bag through it.
Once on the other side, she let the door swing closed, turned toward the huge trash bin and frowned.
A van stood between her and her goal. A quiver of uneasiness slithered across her skin, raising the fine hairs and gooseflesh on her arms.
Instinct made her spin and reach for the back door. The trash bag stood in the way.
Before she could move around it or shove the bag to the side, a door sliding open sounded behind her.
Her heartbeat kicked into hyperdrive. She grabbed the big bag and flung it around her body and behind her. As she turned, she counted two men, both wearing black clothing and ski masks, as they leaped from the van.
One man hooked his arm around her waist and dragged her backward.
When Breely drew a quick breath to scream, a large hand clamped over her mouth, muffling the sound.
She dug her heels into the pavement, then twisted and turned in an attempt to break free from the man’s hold. Her feet were yanked out from under her by the other man. Together, they carried her toward the open door of the van.
Breely fought, twisting and bucking against the holds they had on her. She managed to pull one foot free and kicked hard, landing her heel in the masked face of the man struggling to hold onto her other foot.
He cursed and relaxed his hold.
Her feet hit the ground.
