by Marti Shane
“Is Slugger’s still there?”
“I guess a silent partner bought her out, but it won’t be the same without her.”
“Have you talked to Sam?” Jake shook his head, guilt plaguing him.
“I wish I would’ve called her after she and Mitch split.” After catching Mitch cheating on her, he’d given him two choices: tell Sam or he would. Sloane was just an acquaintance, but he wasn’t going to stand by as Mitch stepped out on her granddaughter. Needless to say, he and Mitch were no longer friends. “I didn’t know Sloane was sick.”
“When’s the ser- ...” Jax’s eyes widened in horror, a sound like gunshots ringing in the air. Jake spun to a third shot, realizing the source. A black Mercedes was pinballing its way through giant oak trees, headed for the lake. He watched in horror as the car took blow after blow, wishing like hell the passengers would survive. Not realizing he’d been running toward the disaster; his boots were like lead caked with mud. The mangled car broke free from the trees, spinning wildly toward the lake. The word no played over and over in his head as the car slammed into the lake. Water crashed over the roof, receding as the car stopped.
Jax splashed into the lake beside him. They flanked the car, the hood submerged in water and blood smeared on the passenger window.
“Doors are shit!” Jax jumped and sprawled on the roof, fist slamming against the sunroof. There was no recognizable handle on the passenger door. Jake moved to the back door where the glass was cracked. Jax slid from the roof, Jake catching him around the waist before the murky bottom could swallow his boots.
“Kick!” His thighs burned, holding Jax’s weight as he plowed both feet through the broken window. He kicked away sharp edges, his heart racing as he shoved his twin into the half-submerged car. Jax wedged himself in the back seat, eyes laser-focused on the door. Jake gripped the mangled steel, pulling as Jax pushed from the inside. The hinges gave with a groan, and they all but ripped the back door from the car. Jax crammed his body between the two seats, a female’s panic sounding out.
Jake listened as Jax communicated and soothed the people he couldn’t see. It felt like hours as Jax worked to free the passengers from the seat. Adrenaline buzzed through his veins and exploded in his chest when Jax pulled a very bloody Sam through the seats. Jesus, she was bleeding from her head.
“Sam!” Wrapping her in his arms, his shirt stained red from her wound. She struggled to hold upright. “Keep your eyes open,” he breathed, wanting desperately to see the green in them. Her face was overly flushed and streaked with tears. “Open your eyes,” he demanded, fingers digging into her delicate skin. Green eyes, full of terror, attempted focus on him. “There you go.” Relief loosened the vice around his chest.
“Nick,” she said weakly. Jax plunged into the lake and Nick gingerly lowered to his grasp.
“Sam.” Nick coughed out. Nick’s hand was tight to his rib cage and he was in obvious pain. Jax supported him, trying to lead him toward shore. Anger shot through Jake. Why the fuck had her boss drug her down here?
“I’ve got her,” Jake bit out, plucking his boots from the soggy bottom to get them to shore. Her breaths were quick, her entire body shaking in his hold. Looking over her body, he assessed for injury. She wore jeans and an Atlanta Braves t-shirt that was either vintage or she lived in it. Vintage, he guessed, based on her designer taste. Other than the nasty wound on her head, she appeared in good shape. “You’re okay,” he convinced himself, searching for a clear enough spot to sit.
“Nick?” she panted.
“Breathing,” Jake said, lowering down and settling her in his lap. “Which is what you need to do. Long deep breaths.” Quivering lips didn’t participate in her efforts and he reminded himself to do the same. Pushing her dark hair from her temple, she swatted wildly at his hand.
“Don’t touch her face.” Nick dropped to his knees beside them, wincing in pain. “Claustrophobia.” He slurred, too many syllables for the only breath he could afford. Scanning his vocabulary, he latched on to the meaning. One glance at the sinking car and his stomach dropped out. As if the crash wasn’t terrifying enough, she panicked in tight spaces. Nick focused on the path they mowed down the hill, shaking his head. “The road just gave way.” Jax tried to settle him back, his ribs and God knows what else beaten to hell. “Talk to her.”
Talk to her? He wanted to stop the bleeding, not have a freakin’ conversation. Stacking the importance of breathing next to her head wound, he searched for words. “You’re okay,” he whispered hoarsely as Jax coaxed Nick into lying back. Her green gaze was a thousand miles away. “Sam?” he tried again. “Focus on my face. Tell me my name.” Her head swiveled as if barely attached, her eyes opening and closing like shudders from the past to the present.
“Jake?” His name left her lips, her expression surprised and confused. Her hands pressed against his thighs, trying to push herself upright. Stress had every muscle tensed and she seemed to notice as she explored his quads beneath her hands. “You’re hard.”
“You hit your head,” he said, focusing on her head wound. He threaded his hand in the hair at her nape, not wanting to crowd her face. She lifted a hand as he eased her head back for a better look. Pain wasn’t registering, her fingers passing over the swollen skin. Her eyes focused past his shoulder, widening at the sinking car.
“You’re okay.” He pulled her weight into his. Rocking them gently, he felt a shiver work through her. They stayed that way, rocking and breathing in the aftermath.
“You assholes gonna call 9-1-1?”
Jake looked up as a uniformed hulk strode toward them. He wore a medical bag slung over his shoulder, and red lights flashed through the trees behind him. Thank shit.
The man planted his boots next to Nick, his bag dropping to the ground at his feet. Pulling a piece of gum from his pocket, he casually took in the scene. His eyes darted from the car to Nick as he folded the stick of gum then popped it in the mouth hidden behind his thick ginger beard.
“In case you need mouth-to-mouth.” He grinned, dropping to Nick’s side. “You’re the only asshole I know with a Mercedes. Collision alert.”
Nick gave the man a crooked grin. The stranger reached to his bag, extracting a white clip. He slipped the device on the end of Nick’s finger. He pressed on Nick’s rib cage, drawing out a gritty curse.
“Pussy.” The ginger poked the other side, the response from Nick the same. Checking the clip on his finger, he shook his head. “Try breathing. Couple deep breaths.” He repositioned, his hand lightly covering Nick’s chest. “I know it hurts like a bitch, man. Suck one in for me.” He lowered his ear to Nick’s mouth, listening as he exhaled. He sat back on his heels, seeming satisfied he had an assessment. “Keep up the good work.”
The ginger focused on Sam, rising to his full height with bag in hand. He looked seven feet tall from Jake’s angle, and his hold tightened instinctively when he kneeled beside them. He pulled a pin light from his breast pocket, aiming for each of Sam’s eyes.
“Don’t touch her face,” Jake felt compelled to tell him. The man just snorted, his fingers finding the pulse at her wrist as he inspected the broken skin at her scalp. Sitting back on his heels, he held up a finger. They played Follow My Finger, Sam seeming to pass the test.
“You pull them out of the car?” he asked.
“We did.” Jake gestured to Jax with a nod. The ginger looked back and forth between the two of them. Then he did a double take.
“Thought maybe I hit my head for a second,” he joked, realizing they were twins. “She lose consciousness?”
“No.”
“Yosemite Sam.” The man addressed her, voice calm and low. “I know you’re freaked out, but I need to know if anything hurts. Can you wiggle your fingers, rotate your wrists and ankles?” He waited patiently for her to do a systems check. Her breathing evened out, but she was shaking like a leaf.
“I’m okay, Travis,” she tried assuring him. Travis, as she called him, pulled a foil
ice pack from his bag, instructing her to hold it tight against her head.
“What day is it?” he challenged her. Sam’s brows furrowed in contemplation.
“Too hard.”
“Who won the World Series?” he countered, rubbing Jake a little raw. Boston this year, Mitch pitching three innings with the arm he’d threatened to break.
“Braves…1995,” Sam replied, making him smile. A true Braves fan, like Sloane. Travis shook his head. “Here’s our situation,” he said, zipping his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “I need your ATV to get Nick up the hill.” He pointed to the flashing lights, then back to Sam. “I don’t think Smartass here has a concussion, but I don’t want to leave her alone.”
“I’m going with you,” she argued.
“Really? You’re going to climb in an eight by six steel box?” he challenged, obviously in the know on the small spaces phobia. “I’m sure it’s just fractured ribs, but he needs an x-ray. You stay here.” They were in motion without another word. Jake settled Sam next to him up front, Jax and Travis lying Nick over their laps in the back of the ATV. He navigated as best he could to keep bumps to a minimum, hearing Nick groan as they rocked side to side.
“Can you drive this?” Travis asked Jax at the ambulance. Jax crawled in the driver’s seat as Travis man-handled Nick to the stretcher. After winning that battle, he pulled the icepack from Sam’s scalp.
“You sure that doesn’t need stitches.” Jake wasn’t so sure.
“Nah, it’s already closing up. The head bleeds like a bitch, but usually heals itself.” He swapped out the pack with a new one and fished out some supplies. Handing the supplies to Jake, he instructed Sam. “Don’t be a pussy like your brother. Let this guy clean it, or it’ll get infected.”
Brother? Nick was Sam’s brother? Sloane never mentioned a grandson. Why wouldn’t she brag on Nick as much as she did Sam? Travis extended a hand, distracting him. Jake put his palm in his.
“Thanks, man.” Travis shot a glance back down the hill. Jake caught a glimpse of intensity break his calm demeanor as he reflected over the scene. “Glad you guys were here.”
“Me, too,” he agreed. “I’m Jake.”
“Travis.” He nodded, grip firm. “The number to the clinic is posted in your cabin. She’s not as scary as she looks. Give it a good flush and don’t cover it.” He glanced to Sam, standing with arms folded around herself. “Poor thing can’t afford to get any uglier,” Travis teased, wrapping her in a hug. Jake craved the same, wanting to wrap himself around her and ensure her she was safe. “I’m so sorry about Gram,” he heard Travis whisper and fresh tears streamed down her cheeks. Travis released her, Jake instinctively pulling her close. “I’ve got Nick. Get some sleep. You look like shit.”
As the ambulance sped off, Sam tucked into his side, trembling. He had no clue how to console her. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her clothes muddy and loose like she’d dropped ten pounds. The sophisticated shark in stilettos he knew was gone as she began to sob against his chest. Damn. How long was Sloane sick? Had Sam been taking care of her? Who was taking care of Sam?
“He’s okay.” The words weren’t as reassuring as he hoped. Her soft body sagged into his, sobs coming harder now. He wrapped around her, her cheek finding his chest. Her hands fisted his shirt at his hips, and he was a bastard for liking it. He dropped his lips to her hair making circles on her back. “You’re okay,” he tried soothing her. In four months, she’d been betrayed by Mitch, then lost Sloane and now this. “I’ve got you.” He owed her this, not having checked in on her after Mitch. It had been too long since he held anyone, and holding Sam just felt right.
Chapter Three
Sam cursed her empty stomach, not wanting to escape the heaven she’d awakened to. Jake snored softly behind her. His huge body fit snugly against hers, warming her better than an electric blanket. His hand splayed across her stomach, tucked under the shirt she’d never return. His thumb made a lazy pattern on her bare skin, breaths tickling the crook of her neck. Her lids created slits, gauging the brightness in the small cabin. Light peaked around the curtains, suggesting she’d slept all night.
Her head thumped when she attempted to lift the too-heavy appendage from the pillow. She fought a wave of nausea as a cold shiver worked through her. The crunch of the car echoed in her head. Adrenaline rushed her veins, a tremble settling in remembering being trapped.
“You’re okay,” Jake whispered at her nape, his hand pulling her closer. “Shh,” he soothed, gently rolling her to her back. His face loomed over hers, his hand gripping her hip. “You’re okay.” Sincere blue eyes pleaded with hers to relax. He’d held her as she trembled, assuring her she was okay until she drifted into sleep. Nodding, she willed her pulse to slow and took a deep breath. His eyes pinned to where her head throbbed. She lifted her hand for inspection. “Don’t touch it.” Jake captured her hand in his.
She laid beneath his large body, breath catching at the sight of him. His blonde hair was messy from sleep and his shoulders bulged under miles of tan skin. The smooth skin went forever, stretching over his massive chest and disappearing under the sheets draped over his lean hips. The undignified growl erupting from her stomach brought a smirk to his full lips framed by his beard.
“You like eggs?” he asked, nibbling her fingertips before releasing her hand.
Letting her fingers brush over the coarse blonde hairs framing his mouth, she placed her breakfast order. “Coffee.” Jake’s deep chuckle rumbled through her as he scrubbed a hand over his cheek.
“It’s a superstition thing,” he explained his beard. “I grow it out during the season.” Pulling her hand back, she realized she’d been petting the man. Her cheeks threatened to heat, and she looked at anything but him. Her body sang under his, pure chemistry simmering at a low boil in the beaker…just add heat. Physiology chimed in, her stomach protesting the denial of food. Another chuckle from Jake almost made her boil over. “I don’t think coffee’s gonna satisfy that beast.”
Scurrying from the sheets, Sam’s thoughts were dark and dirty. What the hell was wrong with her? Then again, what woman wouldn’t be affected by Jake half-naked and practically in the thrusting position on top of her?
“Cuddle time over?” He sounded sincerely disappointed. His thick lips were in a pout as he stretched out on his back with hands tucked behind his head. He was impossibly handsome, features dashed with humor as he took advantage of having the whole bed to himself. “You’re a good cuddler.” He winked, the gesture playful and carnal. Sam squeezed her thighs, hopeful the thin lace of her panties wouldn’t betray her. She was soaked, her body begging for relief.
She dug deep for her dignity, standing in nothing but an extra-large Texas Rangers t-shirt and moist panties. Finding a sliver of self-respect, she sauntered over to her clothes caked with mud on the floor. “I cuddle with all my clients the first night,” she managed to tease. She shook out her favorite pair of Lucky’s, a white envelope floating to the floor.
“Really?” Jake laughed. “Thought I was special. You can grab a pair of gym shorts from my bag.” She crouched over the duffle, the scent of fresh laundry and Jake wafting up. She slipped on a pair of gray shorts, cinching the draw string tight with one hand. Opening the envelope, she remembered Charlie insisting it be hand delivered. She recognized the handwriting as soon as she opened the card.
Sam, I’m so sorry. Anything you need. Mitch.
She tossed the card to the kitchen counter separating the small spaces. For a moment, she’d forgotten why she was here. The weight of the last three months crushed down on her, and the months before that followed. He was sorry? Sorry about Gram? Sorry about how they ended things? Marching to the bathroom, she ignored the specimen in the bed. Mr. Tall, Blonde and Beautiful she was so wet for was Mitch’s friend. Wait. Sifting through the fog of yesterday, didn’t Nick say they weren’t friends anymore?
A hot shower was heaven on stiff muscles, and she helped herself to the compli
mentary toiletries Kay kept stocked. Her eyes were puffy in the steamed mirror with dark half-moons shadowing her too pale skin. The cut at her scalp was closed. At least Travis knew what he was talking about. The area was swollen, and bruising colored her temple. Scrapes across her collarbone from the seatbelt were deep red and purple from the impact. Pulling Jake’s t-shirt over her head, she closed her eyes against the vivid memory. You’re okay. Jake repeated the words more times than she could count.
He’d cleaned her head and helped her out of muddy clothes without a word. She was every man’s nightmare, a snotty, crying mess. Jake focused on getting her clean and dry, his comfort level that of a bachelor left with a newborn baby on poker night. The episode clogged her emotional filter, sadness blended with fear and frustration flowing out in one continuous wave. You’re okay, he told her over and over as she cried, finally picking her up in his arms and rocking her against his muscular chest.
“Sam?” Jake called through the bathroom door with a knock. She shook her head, stepping into his shorts and tossing her panties in the trash. Commando it was. She needed to vacate the cabin, even if it was technically hers. Mick should be here soon. “I’ve got a clean shirt for you.” She opened the door, savory bacon saturating the air. Oh my God, bacon. Her stomach roared to life. When was the last time she ate?
“I should let you have your cabin back,” she said, braiding her wet hair over one shoulder.
“You should eat.” He pushed the shirt at her and strolled on bare feet to the tiny stove where he had two pans cooking. The smoke, mixed with the steam from the shower, was too much for the exhaust to handle. She opened the front door and latched the screen, silently consenting to breakfast. “Scrambled okay?” Jake broke eggs into a bowl.
“Sure.” She rounded the opposite side of the counter, the small cook space not affording room. Not that she was any help in the kitchen. That was Gram’s talent. “I lived here every summer and never used that stove. Mind if I use your phone? I need to check on Nick.” Jake nodded to where his phone was docked.