David was just that guy, and he always had been. The one who did everything right. The one who knew what to do. The one who could be counted on to look after things. The one you would choose to have with you in an emergency: when the hurricane arrived, or the boat capsized or the house caught fire.
Except he hadn’t done the right thing by Kevin, the time it had really counted.
“My dog is on the loose somewhere. He could be picked up by a stranger or run over by a car. My bike could be stolen. The new phone could be crushed by a passing vehicle!”
Irrationally, she trusted David, in some areas, at least. If he said he’d take care of it, he simply would. His strength of purpose had always been nothing less than amazing.
And intolerant of those less strong.
Like Kevin, who had never taken care of anything.
The thought, breathtaking in its disloyalty, came out of nowhere, blasted her and made her feel guilty. And, oddly, angry at David all over again.
Okay, so Kevin had not been overly responsible. He’d had many great qualities!
Hadn’t he? The whisper of disloyalty, again, made her feel angry with David as if his presence was nursing these forbidden thoughts to the forefront.
“I need to find my dog,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. She was not going to have these thoughts, or surrender control to David Blaze—who was overly responsible—without so much as a whimper.
Had she learned nothing from life? No, she had learned to rely on herself!
“I’m okay now,” she said, and it felt like an act of supreme bravery, in light of his darkening features. “David, I appreciate you playing knight in shining armor to my damsel in distress.”
The look on his face darkened so she rushed on, shooting a look at his car, “I appreciate your riding in on your shining gray steed, but really, I’ll take it from here. I don’t need any more help from you.”
CHAPTER THREE
DAVID CONTEMPLATED KAYLA, and it was hard not to shirk from the impatience that yanked at the muscle in his jaw and darkened his eyes to a shade of brown so dark it bordered on being black.
He looked totally formidable, and not a single remnant of the carefree boy of Kayla’s adolescence appeared to remain in him.
When had he become this? A man so totally certain of his own power, a man not to be messed with?
“I’m not playing a game here,” he said quietly. “I am not playing knight to your princess. Not even close. Life is not a fairy tale.”
“I’m the last person who needs to be reminded of that,” she said, and he flinched, ever so faintly, but still she had to hide a shiver at his intensity, and her face felt suddenly hot.
She was not blushing at the thought of sharing a fairy tale with him! It occurred to Kayla that, despite the shot, her face might be swelling. In fact, with each passing second she probably was looking more like poor Quasimodo, with his misshapen face, than a princess.
“You are highly allergic to beestings,” he said, his patience worn thin, like a scientist trying to explain a highly complicated formula to a fool. “Anaphylaxis is a life-threatening emergency.”
She touched her forehead. She could feel the puffiness in it.
“We have stopped the emergency for now,” he went on. “A secondary reaction is not uncommon. You need to be under medical observation.”
“But my dog,” she said, weakly. She knew he had already won, even before he snapped “Enough,” with a quiet authority that made her stomach dip.
“Kayla, either get to the car under your own power, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and put you there with mine.”
She scanned his face, and could feel the heat in her own intensify. There was no doubt at all in her mind that he meant it.
Or that her forehead felt like it was swelling like a balloon filling with helium.
“Humph.” She stuck her chin out, but it was a token protest. As annoying as it was, he was absolutely right.
By the time his hand went to her elbow and he used his easy strength to leverage her up, Kayla had no resistance in her at all.
Annoyed with herself, she shook off his hand, marched to his car, opened the passenger-side door and slid in. The deep leather seat had been warmed by the sun, and the rich scent of the luxurious car enveloped her.
It was possibly the nicest car Kayla had ever been in. Her car, now, was a presentable, fairly new economy model that Kevin’s insurance had allowed.
She didn’t even want to think about the cars before that—a string of dilapidated jalopies that always seemed to need repairs she and Kevin could never afford.
That made her even more determined not to give David the satisfaction of thinking his beautiful car made any kind of impression on her.
Apparently not any more interested in small talk than she was, David got in the driver’s side. He checked over his shoulder, pulled out into the empty street, did a tight U-turn and headed back toward downtown, though he had a local’s savvy for navigating a path around the congested main street toward the beach.
Kayla settled her head against the back of her seat and felt a subtle, contented lethargy. The aftermath of the sting, or the drug hitting her system, or surrendering control or some lethal combination of all of those things.
She had always had a secret desire to ride in a convertible, and even though the circumstances were not quite as she had envisioned, she did not know if the opportunity would ever arise again.
She tugged at the elastic that most of her hair had fallen out of anyway, and freed her hair to the wind. If the circumstances had been different, she had a feeling this experience would be intoxicatingly pleasurable.
David glanced at her, and his eyes seemed to hold on her hair before he looked at her face and a reluctant smile tugged at the beautiful corner of his mouth.
Kayla flipped down the sun visor on her side, and it explained the smile. Despite the adrenaline shot, her brow bone had disappeared into puffiness that was forming a shelf over her eyes. She could have hidden under her hat if it wasn’t lying back there on the road waiting to get run over with the rest of her things!
Including her dog. Surely, he could have taken a moment to find the dog.
But no, she came first.
A long time since she had come first. Not that it was personal. It was an emergency responder prioritizing.
She cast David a glance. Thankfully, he had turned his attention back to the road. He was an excellent driver, alert and relaxed at the same time, fast but controlled. His face had a stubborn set to it. He had, in that infernally aggravating way of his, put his priorities in order, and a dog was not among them!
“Can I borrow your cell phone?” Her voice came out faintly slurred over a thick tongue, and much as the admission hurt, Kayla knew he had made the right decision.
He fished the phone out of his pocket and tossed it to her casually.
Who to call about the dog? She barely knew anyone here anymore. The neighbors across the street had their name on their mailbox. And children home for the summer.
She navigated his phone to a local directory, looked up her neighbor’s number and asked whether her kids could look for the dog. She offered a reward, and then as an afterthought, payment if they would go collect her bike and belongings.
“I