by Angi Morgan
“A little. I didn’t think I’d see you again after this afternoon.” The abrasions on her face screamed for him to ask, but she’d sought him out for some reason. Maybe he should wait to ask, but her face was ashen. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was in a great deal of pain.
“They said you’d been injured and might need a ride home.” She sounded less confident. Almost afraid.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look so hot yourself.”
“I’m fine.” She sat on the rolling stool he’d just vacated. “So you really are an EMT.”
He didn’t want to correct her on the difference between an EMT and paramedic. “Yeah, I am. How’d you find me?” More important, why did you want to?
“I called a Fort Worth fire station and asked for you. One fireman was kind enough to explain that the ambulance service is a different company. I found the number and they assumed I was your sister-in-law for some odd reason. I didn’t bother to correct them.”
The shy smile she shot his direction didn’t hide that she’d lied to find him. She reached to push her hair behind her ear and winced. Even an untrained person could figure out she was hurt.
“I guess it didn’t dawn on my colleagues that my sister-in-law would just call my cell.” He tapped his phone still on the counter.
“Not if she had a surprise. But they assumed you were getting a CT scan or something and couldn’t answer your phone.”
He pointed to his head. “No scan for me. So why didn’t you just call me? You had the number.”
“Well, I wanted to have this conversation face-to-face.”
So she’d done her own amateur detective work, found him and had something to say. The room was a little small, throwing them within touching distance. Something he’d wanted more of since shaking her hand that afternoon.
“I’m sorry for frightening you today. I just thought you’d want to know,” he said to start the conversation again. The intern would be returning soon and it would be even more awkward.
She seized his hand, clinging to it with a sense of desperation he knew all too well. The desperate need for someone to care and make you feel like you weren’t alone. He’d been there four months ago when his father had suffered a major stroke.
“I think someone tried to kill me tonight,” she whispered, her eyes darting to the drunk on the bed.
“What happened?” He moved to lean on the counter. Nothing jerky, but it shifted her arm.
She released a sharp hiss between her teeth. “I got lost on the way to Jeremy’s house and—”
“Hey, first things first. Did you see a doctor? Where are you injured?”
“My shoulder’s hurting. It’s just bruised from the seat belt.”
“Mind if I have a look?” His fingers were already heading toward her.
“Do you really know what you’re doing?”
He had to laugh. “Yeah, I’ve been doing this over eight years now. More if you count all the horses on the ranch I’ve nursed back to health.” When she turned those baby blues on him he had trouble focusing. “You didn’t answer me. Did anyone look at your shoulder, and how long ago did it happen?”
“The EMT checked it around ten. And another doctor at the E.R. I’ll be fine.”
Seat belt injury equaled car wreck. He gently probed her left shoulder through her shirt where the strap would have bruised. “So you got lost and had an accident?”
“I don’t think it was an accident,” she whispered again. She didn’t jerk away, just looked at Drunk Doe. “Is it safe to talk here?”
“He’s unconscious. We have plenty of time to go over what happened while I get one of the doctors to examine you.”
“No. Please. I’ve already been to the emergency room. It’s okay, really.” She caught his hand again. “Does that mean you’ll help me? You’re the only one who might believe me.”
“What can I do? I’m a paramedic, not a bodyguard.”
Brian wanted the truth, but attempted murder was out of his league. He had other problems to think about anyway. His twin brother was home for good and married with a kid. His family’s ranch was getting closer to foreclosure. And he wanted to say yes so badly to this woman his mouth was forming the word.
“If someone tried to kill you, then the police are working your case. I should probably stay out of it.”
The relief rushed his body like a warm shower. He could focus on finding the money to take over the ranch payments. Maybe stop working as a paramedic and focus on breeding champion quarter horses again. Maybe see a little more of the world. Maybe watch some Sunday football. Buy a boat and get some fishing in. Lots of boring choices instead of working every minute.
Nothing like his brother’s life as a Navy SEAL. And none of which involved spending time with a beautiful blonde.
“I hate saying this, Brian, but I’m afraid to go home alone. I need your help. You’re my only hope.”
“I’m not a hero in some movie. I’m a nobody.” He pushed on her shoulder to make sure it was in place. “I think it’s just bruised. Did they get an X-ray? I’ll call a nurse.”
“Wait.” She latched on to his biceps. “You’re the only reason my car didn’t shoot into a telephone poll. Your warning made me extracautious and I kept watching the car behind me. If you hadn’t spoken to me this afternoon, I wouldn’t need your help now. I’d be dead.”
He was dang tired of being anyone’s only hope. His brother twelve years ago. The ranch. His dad. He’d warned her. That was all he could do. “This is a job for the police, not an amateur with some friends who did some digging for him.”
“But they won’t. The police officer called it an accident and blamed me for not pulling farther off the road.” Those picture-perfect eyes filled to their full mark and one tear escaped down her tanned, freckled cheek. She swiped at it with the back of her free hand.
“God-d...bless America.” He couldn’t say yes. “This is such a bad idea. I’m not the guy you need to help you.”
“But you’re the one who told me—”
“I’m going to have a doctor look at your shoulder.” Brian gently cupped her injury, gave it a soft you’ll-be-all-right pat and grabbed the door with every intention to march into the hall, shout for Meeks and continue his life. But that nagging gut feeling wouldn’t let him. “What is it you want me to do?”
“Tell me how to convince the authorities someone’s after me.”
“I haven’t had much luck with that.”
Was this the same woman he’d met earlier, so full of confidence protecting herself at the sandwich shop? Injured, sitting with her shoulders slumped, waiting on answers he didn’t have. If he hadn’t put the idea of murder into her life, she wouldn’t be afraid to go home. It would have been just another car accident.
Another accident.
“How do you know it was deliberate? You’re certain the car swerved off the road? Were there any witnesses?”
“I can tell when a car swerves directly toward me.” She sat straight with confidence. “How did you get that cut on your forehead?”
Leave. Forget Miss Blue Eyes and your curiosity. You can’t do anything to help.
“I fell.” His hand was still on the door handle. “Why?”
“Any witnesses?” She rubbed her shoulder. “I’m sure the police will believe you. It shouldn’t be a problem, but you could have been in a fight. Or drunk. Lord knows you smell like you bathed in alcohol.”
“Got me. You didn’t mention to the cop at the scene about your family history? Or that I think the family accidents might actually be murders?”
She pressed her lips together, shook her head and nervously raised a finger to twist her hair. “I sort of told them, but they wouldn’t believe me when I said I didn’t know who you were.”
&nb
sp; “You had my number and I could have confirmed your details. Why wouldn’t you? Oh, I get it. You think if you tell the cops that I’ll be in trouble?”
“Hey,” she said, standing and putting a hand on a hip. “I don’t know what to believe. Right now, I’m exhausted but there’s no way I can go home alone. No, no, no, you get that look out of your eyes, mister. I’m not asking you to come home with me. Shoot. I sort of thought you might have been the guy who hit me. I don’t think you are, since the other firemen confirmed your shift began at seven. But honestly, I don’t know you.”
“Did you hit your head?”
“No. At least, I don’t think I did. The air bag scraped me.”
He watched the realization of his words wash over her in an embarrassing shade of pink.
“Oh, no. I’m sorry. When I get nervous, I tend to babble. I think you misunderstood what I meant earlier.”
“What part? When you asked for help? Or when you thought I might have tried to murder you?”
“All I want is a cup of coffee and some pancakes.” She cradled her arm closer to her side.
Pancakes? He could go for some pancakes. “Cafeteria’s closed. Will Pan-Hop do?” Maybe she could fill in some blanks in his research?
She nodded. “Great. I love their double-stack special. What about him?”
“I almost forgot about Drunk Driver Doe.” He pressed the nurse call button. “Meeks. I’ve gotta leave.”
“I’ll be right there, Sloane.”
“For the record,” Lindsey said with the confidence he’d seen when they’d first met, “I don’t know why I started looking for you, but this seemed like my only option. I don’t intend to have any more accidents.”
“The folder’s in my truck back at the lot. My captain’s already told me to head home.” He pointed to his bandage. “Get me pancakes and I’ll tell you everything.”
“My moment of feeling sorry for myself is over. I want all the details. Everything you’ve learned about my family.”
He could pass along what he’d discovered. Maybe not everything. He couldn’t admit that he’d been admiring her gorgeous body since seeing her picture on her website four months ago. Probably better to keep that information to himself. At least for a while.
And why today? If this guy waits years, planning his murders to disguise them as accidents, then why attempt a hit and run? Had he brought Lindsey to the murderer’s attention? Or worse, sped up his timetable?
How could he walk away if he was responsible?
Chapter Four
Lindsey restrained herself through the short drive, asking only how Brian had received the cut. He’d laughed as he’d said to avoid an inexperienced intern with overeager fingers, he’d stitched it himself. But the story had left her queasy after dropping him off at the ambulance company’s home base. The Pan-Hop was right around the corner.
While she waited, the memory of the car lights blinded her again. The awful thought that her life had been about to end replayed over and over. Because of Brian’s visit earlier that day, she was still alive. She’d only been alone waiting for him to arrive about five minutes before a tap on the window made her jump out of her skin.
“You ready to go inside?” Brian asked.
She grabbed her purse and locked the car. He’d changed into the street clothes he’d worn when they’d met that afternoon. A lifetime ago. She hadn’t noticed his scuffed boots until he’d held the door and she’d looked to the ground. The only boots she’d noticed before were on men shopping for a new phone. She hadn’t been in Texas too long and hadn’t made an effort to get to know anyone or discover any real cowboys.
Now one had found her.
He waited, holding the restaurant door open while she looked past him through the windows. Any of those people could have been driving the car that rammed her off the road. It could be anyone...anywhere.
A creepy feeling crawled up her spine. He was out there. She could feel him staring from his hiding place. Pure panic drove her. She spun and searched the dark.
“We going to eat?”
“I can’t.” Darting under his arm, she began clicking the rental’s key, trying to unlock the door. The car alarm set the horn blaring and she looked closer to see which button was which, but her eyes were full of embarrassing tears.
Tears? Now? She’d remained calm throughout the accident and police. But couldn’t handle pancakes in a public place.
Brian clasped his hands over hers, tilted her chin toward him and took the keys. The alarm stopped, then she heard the horn beep that it was reset. He hadn’t looked away. His dark eyes reassured something deep inside. More than basic attraction, sort of as though he shared part of her no one else could—or would—ever understand.
Even with his eyes comforting her, the panic bubbled. She looked into the dark corners of the building, right at the edge of the light. He was there, watching.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t go in there, it’s...it’s too crowded.” Her mind acknowledged that the restaurant was more than half-empty, but it just didn’t matter. She couldn’t force her feet to move through the entrance.
Brian seemed to understand. He led her by the elbow to his truck, opened the door and removed a bag from the floor. “Want me to help you inside?”
It was an older model and it took a little doing one-handed, but she managed to climb in on her own.
“Mind if I hook you up? This thing can be sort of stubborn.” He pulled and held the seat belt forward.
She nodded and he leaned across the seat. She would never have been able to lift her arm to lock herself in and he’d helped without her asking. He smelled of a mixture of hay and man. Attractive. Musky. Like a guy who did honest work or who’d driven with the top down on a bright sunny day.
His hair was short, but didn’t look like his normal style since he kept tossing his head as though there were longer locks there. She recognized that toss of his head and the nervous running of his fingers across his scalp. She did it herself to get short wisps away from her face. It looked as if it was growing out from a military cut close to his head, curling at the base of his neck.
He hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said the seat belt was stubborn. It wasn’t just a play to get closer. His hands touched her hip more than once and as hard as he tried not to, his arm grazed her stomach and thigh.
The urge to twist those curls around her finger was a little heady. She’d acted on impulse before. It would be so easy to reach out and use her nail to trace the lean tendon leading down to his shoulder.
She watched her hand sort of float down, getting closer to that musky skin.
“There.” He stood straight, brushing her hand to the side with his shoulder, smiling from ear to ear as though he’d accomplished something much harder than snapping a seat belt. “Dang thing had an animal cracker stuck in it.”
“Great.” She didn’t feel great. Maybe she had hit her head because she was definitely a little dizzy. He seemed perfectly fine and totally unaffected by all the touching.
“Your shoulder okay?” he asked, adjusting the strap to make it a little looser while holding an animal cracker tight in his palm. He was thinking of his niece, not her. He just wanted her to be safe while in his truck.
Shoot, he was a paramedic. He probably got hit on all the time. Girls probably fell at his feet. Well, that was the old Lindsey. The new Lindsey didn’t fall at anyone’s feet. She used her own. The tenseness she felt had nothing to do with the physical and everything to do with the potential threat on her life.
Anyone would feel like this.
“Great, thanks. Your mother must be very proud of raising such a gentleman.”
The smile faded from his eyes and his lips twisted tightly into a thin line. He quickly shut the door. “M
om died of cancer a long time ago,” he said softly through the open window.
He walked around the back of the truck, pausing to drop the bag in the back and again at the door. His face was out of sight, but she heard the deep inhale and slow release.
Trying to pay him a compliment, she’d brought up a terrible pain. She knew all about the death of a parent and felt two inches tall for the remark she’d made about him still having his father when they’d first met.
He got in and pulled from the parking lot. “Don’t feel bad, Lindsey. You didn’t know.”
“I meant it as a compliment.”
“And that’s how I took it. She’s been gone a long time.”
“My parents’ accident was six years ago. When I remember that day...all the horrible feelings make me hurt all over. I can’t imagine it ever gets easier.”
“It does and it doesn’t. Hang on to the good stuff.” He shifted gears and stopped at a red light.
The streets were practically empty. She looked around for a black car, trying not to but paranoid. Each time they stopped, she searched.
“I doubt he’s going to do anything when you’re with me. This guy makes it look like an accident. That’s why no one’s caught on. So where do you live?”
“You must already know, since you’re headed there. It’s really okay. I looked up a couple of things about you, too. The fire did more than kill my cousin. It destroyed all your plans and your family’s. I think it’s cool that you’re an identical twin. You might have told me what happened this summer. Your story made the news. And your poor little niece.”
“You didn’t seem too receptive to more talking this afternoon. Were the articles and pictures helpful?”
“Yes. You can’t blame me for checking out your story. You could have been driving the car that ran me off the road for all I knew.”
“And yet, you didn’t tell the cops my name.”
“How did you know?”
“I don’t seem to be in police custody on suspicion of murder.”