Page 51 of Winning His Wager

“I’m sure Rhea will educate him. Maybe with a pamphlet on safe sex or something. Or a personal demonstration.”

Dylan shot him a grin. “You think?”

“I think. You want dessert?”

“Meyra said I had to check out the s’mores cookies they make here. She’s going to come up with an egg-free version of it. Since her love stud is egg-allergic. They are just too cute.”

She ordered her cookies, and they waited. Then Fletcher wrapped his fingers around her much smaller hand and led her out into the sun.

Just to come face-to-face with a man that he had never expected to see.

When the man lashed out to shove them off the sidewalk, Fletcher barely had time to get Dylan out of the damned way.

Then it was on.

That bastard was going down.

“You evil son-of-a-bitch!”

33

Dylan recognizedthe man who had attacked them almost instantly. She screamed. For help.

Why was Bruce Tyler inFinley Creek?

Bruce had just slugged Fletcher, a fist going right at Fletcher’s head. Fletcher knocked his uncle to the side when that man reached.

For Dylan.

Bruce knocked her right off the sidewalk, almost into traffic, with his shoulder. Dylan screamed and jumped out of the way of a car just in time.

Fletcher yelled at her to run back inside.

But Dylan couldn’t. There was a crowd of men coming out of the diner now. Blocking her way. She heard some of them yell out. Tell the two men to stop.

Fletcher was still fighting. He roared as a cloud of dust or something flew up around them. She yelled his name. Screamed for someone to help him.

Bruce punched him right in the stomach and jumped up. Evading Fletcher’s reaching hand.

Bruce looked right at Dylan. “Hi, sweetness, did you miss me?”

Dylan screamed again and kicked at him. “Leave him alone! You’re a murderer!”

He reached for her again, fingers wrapping around her arm. “I’m not a damned killer, babe.”

Someone wrapped strong hands around her waist. She felt herself lifted straight off her feet—and out of the way of the battling men as Fletcher grabbed his uncle from behind, spun him around, and slugged him so hard Dylan heard it.

Then Fletcher was back on his feet, wiping his face with one hand. “Bring it on, you asshole. Don’t ever touch her again. What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’re going to jail where you belong.”

Bruce turned and ran. Like a coward. But he ran into the street, instead of toward the crowd. He was limping a little on his left leg.

Fletcher was two steps behind him.

Until Bruce darted across the road and Fletcher had to stop from the traffic at the light coming so fast now. She heard Fletcher’s curse. And Bruce’s taunting laugh. Dylan yelled for Fletcher to come back.

“Are you okay? Miss, are you hurt?” the man holding her asked. “Do you know those men?”

Fletcher was across the street now, looking for his uncle. Dylan wished he would come back.