Page 8 of Room One Hundred and Eleven

We sprint along the path, no chance to intercept the cart or do more than observe the tragedy as it unfolds.

Poppy is caught. Directly between the oncoming trolley and the solid counter.

“I can’t look.” Knox sounds like he did that night a baby deer nearly trotted into the side of our Maybach. We’d only realized the fawn was safe when we confirmed it in the rearview mirror.

Spinning around, Poppy spots the impending disaster.

Too late to sidestep.

Just then, Aiden leaps, flying across more space than I would have imagined possible despite his dedication in the gym and his obsession with CrossFit and rock climbing.

Now I have two things to worry about. Two people.

One that I love and one that I was about to fuck.

That’s got to be the reason my guts are cramping over a woman I’ve never even met.

Aiden pulls off some action-movie maneuver, spinning in mid-air to shelter Poppy from both the cart and the fall. Hebundles her in his arms then lands on top of her as the cart tips and luggage explodes all around them.

Knox and I race to their sides, flinging suitcases in every direction as we unbury them.

Aiden groans as we reach him.

“Son of a bitch, that was close.” Knox clutches his chest.

If Aiden’s banged up, our beauty must be flattened. “Get up, Aiden. You’re smothering that poor girl.”

Knox assists, carefully rolling Aiden off her.

She’s splayed on the ground, clutching her chest. No sound or breath comes out.Son of a bitch!

“You okay?” Aiden rasps, his voice sounding uncomfortably like when he’s just had an epic orgasm. Spent. Exerted. Lost to the aftereffects of adrenaline.

Still Poppy doesn’t respond.

My heart stutters.

Until she takes great gulps of air that have her chest heaving in the sweetheart neckline of her pretty dress. Gunner told me he was sending me the bill for it, and I don’t give a damn. Whatever it cost, it was worth it. I’ll send her a whole closet of them.

Please, beauty, be alright.

“Yes. Thanks.” She blinks up at Aiden with so much gratitude, my jealous side rears its head. That pretty much never happens. At least not with women; we share those all the time. “Will be in a minute.”

I crouch to incline her shoulders, tucking her between my legs and against my chest as I rub her back. It takes a while, but eventually, her wheezes even out and her entire body goes limp against me.

The same way fleeing prey triggers a predator, her pliant form gives me ideas I need to reserve for much, much later tonight.

So much for keeping our distance.

Gunner barely finished telling me to keep her safe and we’ve already had a near miss.

We need to keep our eyes on her.

“Oh no. Your cheek.” She traces a gentle arc about an inch above a cut on Aiden’s face, studying the gash.

“Just a scratch.” He winces as a drop of blood spills onto his custom-tailored shirt.

“No, it’s a laceration.” Poppy scans the luggage around us then points to a suitcase, which managed to land somewhat near the top of the heap. “If someone will hand me my bag, I can stitch you up. I’m a paramedic.”

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