The cops in those cities never asked the right questions, and somehow by the end of the conversation she always walked away feeling likeshewas the problem. Like she was paranoid and this was only a random crime.
She might have believed that the first time.
She blinked at the shattered window. She could pay for the repair. But it never should have happened in the first place.
“We’ll file a report, Ms. Davis.”
Of course they would. They always did. And that’s where things ended.
Zee pressed her lips together, the familiar frustration tightening her chest. The worst part was the timing.
She’d just started to like it here. The training facility, her new bosses. The people on the ranch. The way the mountains seemed to surround everything like they were standing guard.
And Grant Upchurch…
For the first time in years, life had started to feel possible again.
Now this.
An engine growled into the parking lot. She looked up as the unfamiliar vehicle came to a hard stop near the patrol cars.
Church stepped out immediately, gaze locked on her. The tension in his shoulders seemed to ease slightly when he saw she was unhurt.
He crossed the lot in long strides. “Are you okay?” His hands hovered around her but didn’t land.
“I’m fine.” She wrapped her arms around herself, but nothing could stop the tremor in her voice. The apology spilled out before she could stop it. “I’m so sorry.”
His brows drew downward. “For what, Zee?”
“For this.” She waved helplessly at the truck. “I should’ve stayed on set. I shouldn’t have borrowed your truck. I should have waited and taken my own car.”
His gaze flicked to the officers, then the shattered window, and back to her. “This isn’t your fault.”
He addressed the police. “Is there anything else you need from her?”
The officer tapped his pen on the notepad. “We got what we need. We’ll be in touch.”
As they started walking away, Church faced her again. “Come on. I’ll drive you back to the ranch.”
“What about your truck?”
“I’ll get it later.”
“I’ll pay for the window.”
He slipped an arm around her shoulders, and his masculine scent enveloped her with as much warmth as his strong arm. “It’s not important. What is important is that you’re okay.”
“It kind of is my fault.”
“It’s not. You went shopping.” He looked at the bags scattered on the pavement, some of the mats rolling.
“I shouldn’t have left the set. I shouldn’t have left the ranch.”
He searched her eyes. “Zee. It’s not like this is a regular occurrence.”
A hollow laugh escaped her. “You’d be surprised.”
He didn’t respond, but the brackets around his mouth carved deeper. “Let’s get you in the vehicle. I’ll get the bags.”
