Page 22 of Too Lethal to Love
Gran wagged a finger at him. “I know what’s keeping you from settling down.”
“Yes, you do, and you of all people should understand what happens when the love of your life doesn’t come home.” He glanced at the framed photo of his parents on the windowsill above the sink. At seventeen years old, he hadn’t understood. He’d been a kid who got angry each time his mother missed a track meet. Each time she’d passed him off to Gran when he needed something. Maybe if he’d taken the time to understand the gravity of her grief, to step out of his own and realize she was drowning and needed help, she’d still be alive.
But she wasn’t. A distracted driver may have killed her, but grief was the reason all the joy inside her died long before. He’d never forget how losing the man she loved had siphoned her will to live or the toll her defeat had taken on him and Livvie. The thought of risking a fate like that to a woman, to someone passionate like Beth who hurt as deeplyas she loved, tore through his heart with a punch stronger than his steel.
Gran pointed to the bathroom. “I do understand. More than you think. Don’t regret not putting a ring on that girl’s finger while you have the chance.”
Beth woke as Kane’s truck came to a halt outside the liquor store. She’d only meant to close her eyes to ease her headache. That had been two hours ago.
“Did you have a nice nap?” He parked in front of the double doors covered in whiskey and beer ads and cut the engine.
“Did I look like I was?” Yawning, she stretched her arms forward and released the tension her shoulders. She never fell asleep in the car, but this had been her most decent slumber in a long time.
“You were out cold.”
“Good.” That meant she hadn’t talked, cried, or screamed in her sleep.
He scanned the parking lot dotted with half a dozen vehicles. “We’re still ten miles from your parents’ house. Don’t they have liquor stores in North Benson?”
“Yes, but I like this one. It’s never crowded.” And it wasn’t owned by the brother of the biggest mouth in the gossip brigade. She bit her tongue and willed North Benson’s notorious pack of judgmental housewivesto do the same.
Now that would be a Christmas miracle. Maybe she and Kane should skip the party.
She eyed him as he grabbed his cowboy hat from the back seat and placed it on his head. With a smooth movement belying the metal attached to his hip, he slid out of the truck. As she stared at his ass encased in worn jeans, she wondered what he’d look like sliding off a horse.
Sliding into bed.
Sliding into…
She squeezed her legs together to quell the delicious flare between her thighs. Maybe her plan to skip the party wasn’t the wisest idea.
She’d be alone with Kane.
In front of the fireplace with rum-laced hot chocolate and no willpower to resist the irresistible package by the Christmas tree.
Going to the party with him at her side might be like jumping in front of a firing squad, but she’d take the heat. Yes, she’d die from embarrassment if Kane found out about her cursed past, but it was better than risking his life if she got too close, like carnally close, and fell for him.
She was already halfway there.
Kane appeared by her door before she could open it. As he helped her out, he scanned the strip mall and led her to the entrance. “How many bottles of wine do you need?”
“Just a couple. I was going to get some after I picked up the cake last night, but?—”
Kane stopped her from grabbing the door handle. “I go first.”
She raised her eyebrows as he pulled the door open and peered around the space. A moment later, he pulled her inside. She eyed his broad back as he strode in front of her, somehow keeping an eye on her and their surroundings.Following, she trailed him to the end of the aisle and touched his shoulder. “What I want is right here.”
A car door slammed, followed by another. She glanced out the windows. Two young guys who barely looked legal threw up the hoods on their sweatshirts and hurried toward the entrance. A muscle ticced in Kane’s jaw. Quickly, she yanked two bottles from the shelf.
As the guys in the hoodies approached the register, a new wine she’d never seen caught her eye. “This looks good. I should get one for…”
Kane shoved her behind a display of whiskey bottles. “Get down and stay put.”
She gasped as Hoodie One, the shorter guy, appeared near the entrance. He raised his wild, bloodshot gaze. A gun followed. Déjà vu punched her in the throat as she jerked her head to his friend by the register. The weapon he pointed at the clerk behind the counter didn’t waver. Neither did his unhinged stare.
Not again. Not again.
Shereached into her tote bag.