Page 35

“Thanks, Sara. I’ll come by the station tomorrow to finish my statement.”

“Take your time. We’ve got everything we need to hold Blake. With those out-of-state warrants, plus today’s assault and Jo’s PO, he’s not going anywhere.”

I asked Sara for someone to get Jo’s car to her apartment, and she promised she would do it herself.

Jo and I rode to the hospital together in my cruiser, her good hand clutched tight in mine. The X-rays confirmed her wrist was sprained but not broken, and they wrapped it in a proper brace. My lip was stitched, and they gave us both ice packs for the bruising that was already starting to bloom.

When we finally made it back to her apartment—it was almost midnight.

When I said something about staying on her couch, she shook her head. “I’ll be fine. I promise. Go home and get some good sleep in your own bed. I know I am. It’ll be the first time in a month I won’t be worrying about Blake.”

I nodded and kissed her on the forehead, the stitches in my lip tickling painfully.

“Okay. Call me tomorrow when you get up. Sheriff told me to take the day off. Maybe we can go get some lunch or something.”

She nodded, then stepped in tight to wrap her arms around me. My ribs ached with the pressure, but there was no way I was going to say a word. She nestled her head under my chin, and I breathed in the scent of her beautiful hair. Even after rolling in the parking lot and wading through hospital disinfectant, she still smelled wonderful. I wrapped my arms around her and just breathed against her, loving the closeness.

“Thank you, Lane,” she whispered. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”

“I don’t even want to think about it,” I admitted. “We’re through it, and hopefully we never have to see him again, and we can get on with our lives.”

Leaning back, she gave me the most brilliant smile I’d ever seen. It took everything in me not to tell her I loved her right then. Instead, I kissed her again and promised to be ready for her call tomorrow. She nodded and closed the door softly as I left. For the first time in weeks, I wouldn’t have to worry about her when I went home.

Remy and Mom were both asleep, and I was grateful I didn’t have to explain my battered face to a worried eight-year-old tonight. Maybe it would be better in the morning…

It wasn’t. Remy got this terrible look on her face, and I felt so bad about scaring her with my appearance. Once I explained everything, though, she calmed down.

“You got the bad guy?”

I nodded. “He’s in jail right this minute and he won’t be getting out. He won’t be bothering Miss Jo ever again.”

That seemed to make her happy. Nodding, she headed to the table and her breakfast. And proceeded to make fun of my swollen lip as I tried to eat.

Mom squeezed my shoulder as I filled Remy’s plate, and I gave her a smile.

Chapter 14

Jo

* * *

The day after the attack in the parking lot, I met Lane in the park with takeout from Mabel’s. We sat on a bench near the duck pond to eat our lunch. Neither one of us really wanted to be a spectacle today, and Lane would have definitely gotten looks. His poor face ... His eyebrow and eye was about ten different colors, and his lip was swollen around the stitches. I leaned over to kiss his good cheek, and drew back, laughing lightly.

“Your kisser is out of commission for a while.”

He smiled a lopsided smile. “That’s okay. It was for a good reason.”

We ate our food and talked about what had happened, but in the light of day, and knowing that Blake was behind bars, it wasn’t bad. It was rather cathartic. Lane chuckled as I recounted the flying fists and watching him kick Blake’s ass. And wanting to laugh when Blake screamed like a girl. What could have been a traumatic morning after definitely wasn’t.

The next few weeks passed in a blur of happiness. Without the constant fear of Blake lurking, I could finally relax into whatever this was with Lane.

We went on another date. Then another. Once he got his stitches out, we kissed in his truck after dropping Remy at school. We talked on the phone every night after she went to bed. We existed in that beautiful, terrifying space of falling in love.

The anticipation of making love had been building for weeks, but the timing never seemed quite right. And Lane seemed a little reluctant. I wondered if he’d been with anyone since his wife had died, but I didn’t feel comfortable enough to ask, yet. We touched and kissed and it was thrilling, but it always ended too soon. If it were up to me, I’d have jumped his bones weeks ago. But both people had to be participants. And he wasn’t quite ready.

Remy was thriving with Dr. Caldwell. She talked about him at dinner one night, saying he was “really nice and funny and he has a dog named Didymus.”

“You like Dr. Caldwell?” Lane had asked.