Page 75 of Winning His Wager

Will was shaky. He’d taken OPJ a few hours ago, and it was wearing off. He knew it was. It was giving him that headache it always did, but he tried to push it aside. He had to think. He had to get Abby back. Somehow.

What was he going to do?

He just stayed there by his truck and watched.

As Bruce Tyler shoved Abby into his truck. It wasn’t a truck he had ever seen Bruce in before. The guy had a different car or truck every time he just showed up.

If Bruce disappeared with Abby, Will wouldn’t know where to find her. He just wouldn’t.

His truck died. He’d been able to get it a few miles, and it had died. Right at a four-way stop in town. Then he’d gotten to the inn, and it had died again. He didn’t know what was going on with it. But it just kept dying.

He turned the key again.

Nothing.

His sister had been kidnapped, and he had nothing. No way to save her.

But Braelyn’s car was right there. Braelyn always left a fucking key in one of those magnet boxes by the back bumper. She had done that since she’d been like twenty and had to have Will’s dad get her door unlocked like a million times. Will’s dad had bought it the magnet for her. Braelyn wouldn’t care about him taking her car, not if it meant he rescued his sister. Braelyn would want Abby back too.

Braelyn’s car was right there.

He tried his truck one more time.

But the engine wouldn’t turn over. It just wouldn’t.

But Braelyn’s car was right there.

56

Dylan tossedher bag into the front seat and started to slide into the driver’s side. It was the first night she had been allowed to drive herself anywhere. Her cowboy was a wee bit on the traditional side when it came to her driving. He had driven her everywhere for days.

He’dactuallysaid she drove like a bat out of hell, and he would feel better driving her to the inn himself. Just in case. So the bats of Masterson County would be safe.

Ha-ha. Still, she liked how he fussed over her. But…well, she also liked her independence. And the inn wasn’t that far from home. She was already teasing him about him making the path from the back of his barn that Nikki had used as a teenager to hike to the inn a bit more accessible. One tiny corner of the Fletcher habitat brushed against the acreage the inn owned. Connected.

Just like the rest of the land behind the inn was owned now by one seriously delicious man named Brandt Barratt, fiancé of one Meyra Talley. Dylan’s Fletcherlings and Meyra’s Brandtlings could play in the woods—supervised, of course—between the three properties someday. The way Fletcher had explored those woods as a child too.

She was going to give her future children a heritage. Memories. Belonging.

Dylan couldn’t wait. She was starting to understand why the inn was so important for her dad now. Why he wanted her, the twins, and Dorie to experience it too.

She and Mr. Fletcher Tyler were going to practice the making of those Fletcherlings very, very soon too.

Maybe she’d do a candlelit dinner? Get some sexy lingerie. She’d never really had any before. Or seduced the man she loved by candlelight either.

That’s what she’d do for tomorrow night. Maybe a trip to the mall again? She’d take Dahlia. Her sister would be so scandalized by buying lingerie. She’d convince Dahlia to buy some for herself too. It would be fun.

Then, she’d take Dahlia home. Then she’d go find her cowboy.

Dylan’s hat fell to the snow. She bent down to pick it up, almost bonking her head on her door. Graceful, she was not. At least not tonight. She was tired. That was her excuse, and she was sticking to it.

She was missing an internal organ now too. Tired was more than acceptable.

A hard arm went around her neck. Dylan was yanked against a male body. It was definitely male.

And a lot bigger than her.

She tried to scream.