FFS!
“He didn’t corner me,” I said to Shaw.
Then…
Whomp!
I was plastered against a hot guy in exercise clothes.
I tilted my head back to look up at Gabe to find he was looking at me.
“You okay?” he asked.
I was very okay, with his arm tight around me, my body flush to his, witnessing that concerned look on his amazing face.
Yes, you are sooooo verrrrrrrrrry okay, Dreamer drawled.
Tell him to back off! Logic demanded.
“Um…” I mumbled.
“Babe,” he growled, his arm giving me a shake.
I pulled it together, and in doing so, tried to pull from his hold.
It tightened.
I stopped trying.
“Mr. Shithead isn’t a threat,” I shared.
“Anyone is a threat to a woman in a dark parking lot in the early hours of the morning,” Gabe shot back. “Or, ever.”
Hmm.
I was thinking he understood why women picked the bear.
Just not why I’d do that over him.
“It isn’t dark. Tito is all about the lights.”
“Willow,” he warned.
“Shaw scared him off before he could get out what he was doing here, but definitely something is up. I just don’t know what it is because he took off before he could tell me.”
Gabe grunted unintelligibly as his arm loosened, so I took that opportunity to put some distance between us.
He took the ensuing opportunity to hook a finger in the tan belt I had cinching my cute, muted-salmon shirtdress with the flouncy, short shirt so that distance wasn’t very distant.
Before I could protest, I noted movement out of the side of my eyes, looked to Luke and saw him crossing his arms on his wide chest, planting his feet apart, his gaze on us, an approving half-smile on his face.
What he approved of, I did not know.
What I approved of was that Luke was in all black: skintight compression shirt and lightweight joggers.
Nice.
“You got this?” Shaw asked.
