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“Yes. Thank God you were here. I’m fine and thank you for saving me but don’t do it again.” I poke his chest, thinking about what could have happened. “You could have been killed.”
“He was a reporter.”
“You didn’t know that and he’s crazy. Clearly.”
His hands move to my waist and he pulls me to him, away from the group. “If you need me, I’ll be there. Don’t you see that?”
I swallow hard, emotion balling in my chest. “You can’t be there for me if you’re dead.”
“You have no idea what I felt when that man dragged you down the alley.” He cups my face. “Damn it, woman.” He presses his hands to the wall on either side of me. “What the hell are youdoing to me? And why the fuck did you leave? Together, Abbie. Remember?”
“Yes. Do you? You forgot that today on many counts.”
“I know I did and I was wrong, but damn it, don’t fucking leave. Yell. Argue. Punch me if you have to, but don’t leave.”
Don’t leave. This is a hot point of his. This is a trigger and I quickly agree. “Okay. No leaving. I will just punch you instead.”
“Okay,” he says, completely serious right now. “That works.”
I laugh and wrap my arms around him. “You’re impossibly intense right now.”
“You know how to fix that?”
“How?”
“Don’t leave,” he growls.
“I know.I know.”
“And you could get naked.”
“Here?” I smile.
“My office. Let’s go.” He takes my hand but we get nowhere fast.
“What the hell just happened?”
At the sound of Reese’s voice, Gabe and I break apart and watch Reese fold Cat into his arms.
The group of us come together and Cat and I tell our story. The crowd. The reporters. The sudden yanking of me down the alley.
“Where is this asshole now?” Reese demands.
“Going back to his office to have his boss call me,” Gabe says, eyeing Reese. “What do you have time for now? What’s our plan?”
“I have a problem at the courthouse and I’m out of time,” he says. “We’ve—meaning all legal counsel involved—have already called and put the interviews off, pending new evidence provided by Blake.” He eyes Gabe. “Let’s meet tonight just to debrief and be sure we’re ready for anything.”
“Where and when?” Gabe asks.
“Our place at seven Reid wants to be there. I already told him.”
Cat leans over and hugs me. “I’m so sorry that just happened. Reporters can be such assholes.”
“I can’t believe a reporter would put his hands on a person,” I murmur.
“They don’t make a habit of it,” Gabe says. “And they’re going to regret it. I’m going to sue the paper and you can use that money for the shelter.”
My heart falls all over again for this man every day about ten times. His first thought is the shelter and I’m quick to kiss his cheek, and just as quick to whisper, “No. I will not fall in love with you.”
