I belt out his name, launching myself at him.
“The one and only. Can you walk, or do you need me to carry you?”
I don’t even know.
I try to get up, holding on to his arm, but he doesn’t waste more than a second before those huge arms of his envelop me. Then I’m just gliding on air, my hands locked tight around his strong neck.
He lifts me off the ground and carries me like I’m lighter than a goose feather.
I’ve never been so relieved or wanted to cry so badly in my life.
Holding back the tears, I relax in his arms and let him carry me to the sidewalk where his truck waits. It’s extra reassuring when I breathe in deep, cold breaths mingled with his scent.
If Ridge had his smell bottled up, I think they’d call it glory.
The only word that captures his rough, manly perfection, the faint overtone of cinnamon and citrus melded into something more primal.
If only I had time to enjoy it.
Muscles I didn’t know I had scream from being so tense and awkwardly bent. My legs are trembling.
Heck, I’m trembling all over like a deer that just skittered away from a cougar’s jaws.
When he sets me down on even ground and I finally turn toward him, I can’t stop my arms from wrapping around him tighter, just holding on.
“It’s okay,” he whispers. “Those fucks shook you up, but they’re gone now. I already called Sheriff Wallace to go looking for them.”
Huh? When did that happen?
“I think I zoned out, Ridge,” I say in a weak voice that’s just as shaky as my body.
My senses are returning, thoughts coming back through the haze of panic that hadn’t let me think beyond not letting them take me.
“It was Jackknife.” I don’t know why I bother stating the obvious. Maybe because my heart keeps pounding so hard I’m gasping for air, and I need something to ground me again.
“I know. There’s no mistaking a shit-stack that high,” he grumbles, giving me a solid hug and then running those long languid fingers down my back. “Don’t worry, they’re not going to hurt you. You’re not leaving my sight.”
He holds me while the soft breeze blusters around us.
Thankfully, it’s almost as warm as yesterday. It’s the touch of spring I need to pull myself together again.
At least I can finally breathe, pushing out a few solid breaths before nodding, releasing my hold on him.
Ridge isn’t ready to let go. His hands run up my arms, gently testing me with a cautious touch every few inches.
“You hurt anywhere?” He cups my face, blue-eyed worry bleeding into mine.
It’s so raw, so real, I almost burst out crying.
“Grace,” he says my name again when I don’t answer.
“I’m fine...I think. I just hurt everywhere, but I’m not really injured. I’ll survive if you’ve got an ice pack or heated blanket or something.”
“All that, darlin’.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Come on, let’s go.”
I take a step, then remember why I’m here. “Oh, crap. I need my purse! The bag of medicine for Dad...”
“It’s up here. Already fetched it while you were catching your breath.”
God, I don’t remember that either.
It’s amazing how a nasty shock can just totally fry the system.
Seeing my purse and the bag on the ground a few steps away, as well as his pickup, I let out a long, harsh hiss of relief.
“I didn’t see them. They were just...there all of a sudden. Thanks, Ridge. The pharmacist, Milly, told me I could walk to the grocery store, that the path back here was shoveled, and—” I bite my lips together to stop my rambling. “I’m sorry, Ridge. I never in a million years expected them to—”
“I didn’t, either,” he rumbles, stopping to pick up my purse and the bag of cold meds. “But I really fucking should have. No excuses.”
He carries my stuff to the passenger side of his truck and helps me climb in, then passes it over before closing the door.
My heart sinks.
He can’t really think it’s his fault?
In any sane world, Jackknife and his men should’ve been long gone. Yet he’d stuck around. Watching, waiting, something I wanted to believe wasn’t a real worry since Ridge humiliated him and took the trackers off our truck.
When Ridge climbs in his side, he’s on his phone.
“Yeah. Yep. Please do. Already told Wallace. That’s right, Ridge...Dane...Barnet. Do what you have to. No, I don’t give a fuck about making it official...I read you loud and clear, Drake. Thanks.”
I can’t