Just One Kiss - J. Saman Page 0,5
catch her. “Yikes. I’m really in trouble, aren’t I?” She tilts her chin up, her bloody face meeting mine until she opens her eyes and I find myself staring helplessly into a field of lavender, startling and unexpected, I’ve only seen this color once before.
She blinks a few times, though I can’t seem to manage the action. Hell, I can’t even breathe. The space in my chest that was previously little more than a dead lump is suddenly sprinting so hard it sounds like a freight train running through my ears.
“I know your face,” she whispers, her voice drifting. Tilting her head in my arms, she leans farther into me on a sleepy breath. She manages a half-smile, but she’s slipping fast. “Though I don’t remember the beard the last time I saw it,” she murmurs, her eyes closing and her body growing limp in my arms. I catch her as she tries to fall through my hands, adjusting her until I’m lifting her up, tucking her protectively into my chest.
For a second, I stare down at the unconscious woman in my arms, unable to move from the sideswipe of shock that’s radiating through me.
It seems impossible that it’s her, though I don’t know why.
Maybe it’s just that seeing her again feels like someone kicked me in the gut before shoving my head under water.
I brush some of her matted hair from her face, just so I know. Just so I can confirm what every other piece of me is already acutely aware of. Snow falls on her, melting as it hits her warm, pale face, sticky with blood. She shudders in my arms, her eyes scrunching as if she’s in pain.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
Without another sound, I turn on my heels and march her back to my truck, trudging through freezing cold and heavy snow that’s almost already covered my tracks though it’s been no more than ten minutes. I force myself not to think. Not to go back in time.
I just act on instinct.
Shuffling her small body in my arms, I open the door to my warm car, Betsy sitting on the seat with large, brown, curious eyes.
“In the back, girl. We’ve got company.”
Without argument, Betsy does as she’s told. Goddamn Taylor Swift is still having a laugh at me as I slide… London Canterbury onto the passenger seat of my truck. I shift her over, mindful of her injuries, and reach across, buckling her in.
I don’t take a deep breath.
I refuse to inhale her sweet fragrance that hits me square in the chest, so familiar and so exotic and so…
I clear my throat, staring at her face.
She really is a mess and I pop open the glove box, taking out some wipes I have and clean up her face a bit. I don’t even know why I’m bothering right now. Hell, I’m still standing in the snow with the fucking door open.
But once she’s cleaned up, I put the wipes away and watch her for a very long second as visions of her float helplessly through my mind. “Right, then. Only one thing to do.” I slam the door shut, trudge back to her car, gather her stuff from the inside of her car and pop the trunk. I find the suitcases I assumed I would and grab them, carrying them both back to my truck.
I hop in, tossing both of the designer bags onto the seat beside Betsy and slam my door shut, shivering against the cold and snow that has saturated my jeans and down into my socks inside my boots.
I chance one more glimpse at a passed-out London and then put the truck in drive, the plow in the front ready to guide our way. I dial up Earl and tell him where he can find her Porsche, asking him to tow it over to my place.
I glance down at London one last time, making sure she’s buckled in and as comfortable as she can be. Like a star in my hand, I already feel the burn of this woman on my skin. I clear the thoughts away and pull out from the side of the road, heading home.
It seems Betsy and I have an unexpected guest.
Chapter Three
LONDON
Rolling over onto my side in the warm, soft bed, I smile to myself, grateful that I’m no longer sleeping and that horrible nightmare is over. God, it felt so real. I take in a deep breath and freeze instantly. The smell. Cologne or aftershave, I