“Stay in the truck,” he said, as if in response. Then the line went dead and the other truck screeched to a halt, parked behind both of the vehicles that had blocked them in.
Glass creaked, more pieces breaking off as the guy behind them ripped his knife free and took a step to the side to see what was happening.
Jon swung out from his truck and raised a gun.
“Holy shit,” Lynnette said at the same time as the guy behind them twisted as if to run away.
Jon squeezed the trigger and he must have done it multiple times in quick succession, because Jenna distinctly heard multiple explosions but she was fairly sure he was holding some type of pistol.
Jenna and Lynnette let out reflexive shrieks and twisted toward the middle of the cab, ducking down as if he were shooting at them. It was the smart thing to do, though Jenna told herself surely Jon knew how to aim. She almost didn’t register the heavythudin the truck bed that followed, not until she heard the quieter, metallic clink of the knife falling free again.
“Did he just—” Lynnette’s question was cut off by more bursts of gunfire.
Jenna had the perfect angle to see the flicker of agitation that crossed her face.
Seconds later, someone tapped politely on the window at Jenna’s back and both women jumped.
Lynnette cursed again.
Jenna uncurled and turned, and finally exhaled at the sight of Jon’s fuzzy but nonetheless welcome face. She hurried to pop the door open as tears added to the burning in her eyes, making it worse. “Is it over?” She sounded like she’d lived twice as many years and spent each one of them smoking three packs a day.
Jon scowled, his hands flexing over her knees. “Almost.” He took hold of her wrists, pulling her hands to her lap, then cupped her cheeks. “Hold still, baby. This’ll sting for a second.”
Jenna opened her mouth to ask what he meant—her face already stung—and then cool water rushed into her eyes as if she had stuck her face between two opposing fountains. It did sting, but it only took a few seconds to feel the relief that followed. Then Jon lowered one hand and trailed his fingers slowly down the length of her throat. She blinked, clearing her vision as the water dripped from her lashes, and it was like compulsive swallowing only … more refreshing, somehow. It was incredibly strange, but she wasn’t going to complain.
Finally, he met her gaze as he cupped her hands between his and rinsed those, too. She didn’t remember rubbing her eyes, but it was a good idea, regardless. “You scared the shit out of me,” he said softly.
“Says the man who came in shooting,” Lynnette quipped from behind them. “I’d compliment your aim, but I’m fairly certain you dropped a dead body in my truck, and I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to explain that.”
Jon pulled Jenna from the truck as if she weighed nothing, lifting her completely into his arms. “Then don’t. We’ll get rid of it and wash out the evidence. But first, she’s bleeding. I need to patch her up.”
Jenna blinked, everything else she’d been thinking to say dying on her tongue. “I am?”
Jon aimed his frown at her as he stepped away from the truck.
Lynnette muttered a curse somewhere behind them.
“You are,” he said, turning them toward his truck as if there weren’t bodies strewn around them.
Jenna tried not to consider that that might not be so abnormal for him. Which forced her to briefly reflect on what might have happened if he hadn’t gotten there when he did, or if shehadn’t found that bear spray. And only then did she process the continued ache from her calf.
“Do you have supplies?” Lynnette asked, definitely not lagging behind.
“Enough,” Jon replied.
“Respectfully,” Lynnette said, “I actually patch people up for a living, so she might be in better hands with me for this part. And while I work, maybe you can explain that nonsense you just said?”
Jenna watched Jon jerk his chin toward the closed back driver’s side door and caught sight of Lynnette as her friend moved forward to pull it open.
In the moment she’d looked away, Jon said, “It’s nonsense to prioritize my woman’s health?”
The air rushed out of Jenna’s lungs. She wasn’t an idiot. She knew they’d fallen back into …something, however undefined. But to hear him just say it like that. So casually. So easily. It made her chest light and her heart beat faster and her eyes burn all over again.
“No,” Lynnette said almost awkwardly. “That’s not— I wasn’t”—she blew out a breath—“Set her down here, Romeo. And bring me your kit, unless you want me digging through your truck.”
Jon angled forward, setting Jenna so she was sitting sideways on the seat. He caught her chin in his hands as he straightened and brushed a lingering kiss over her lips before stepping back. “Right leg,” he said before he turned and disappeared from view.
Jenna released a breath.
