Page 41 of The Bourbon Bride

It doesn’t take long for our dessert to be brought out. Hayes packs everything up and holds his hand out for me. We leave the restaurant and he drapes his arm over my shoulder, pulling me close to his side on our walk back to the car.

“This is really nice. Thanks for getting me out of the house.” I snuggle closer and look up at him from his side.

“I enjoyed sharing my favorite pizza with you.” He places a kiss on my head. “I’m actually looking forward to the Underworld Spirits party tomorrow. I was dreading the publicity, but I think I’ll manage if I have you there with me.” He stops at the car and lifts the gullwing door of the Mercedes to put our boxes in the back.

I lean my back against the car and cross my arms.

“So you don’t mind being seen out with a much younger woman who has questionable parents?” I tease.

“Are you kidding? I’m honored you’d even entertain an old man like me,” he jokes right back. “I mean, it’s only fourteen years, right? It’s not like I’m twice your age, which isn’t uncommon for some of the people I’ve done business with.”

I consider his words. Had I been asked a week ago what I thought of a woman my age dating an older man, I probably would have wrinkled my nose in distaste. My small worldview is expanding the longer I spend with Hayes, and I’m not mad about it.

“Okay, old man, come here and kiss me.” I grab his T-shirt in my fist and tug him to me.

He traps me against the car with his arms and leans his face close to mine. “Are you starting dessert early, Miss Fairchild?”

I pull his hips flush against me and wiggle. “Maybe.”

His lips crash into mine with a passion that leaves me breathless. He takes what I’ve started and proves that he truly is the one in control and I’m along for the blissfully beautiful ride. When he pulls away, it takes me several slow blinks to register that we are not alone.

“Hayes,” I say quickly, patting his back in my growing alarm.

He turns quickly and sees the man creeping closer, light from the streetlight glinting off the knife he holds at his side. Hayes shoves me into the car and stands in front of the door. I’m too freaked at the moment to care about the unceremonious movement, but it registers that he’s doing it for my safety.

“Nice ride, man. Gimme the keys.”

“You’re fucking with the wrong guy tonight. Walk away and this is over. Step closer and I’ll end you,” Hayes growls.

“Not how this works when I got the knife,” the man replies, thrusting the weapon between them.

Hayes kicks out, his long leg making contact with the man’s fist and sending the knife clanging to the ground. The man lunges for Hayes, his fist swinging out and catching him in the ribs. Hayes gives a grunt of pain but shoves the man away and kicks again, catching him in the stomach and doubling him over. In a flash, he’s back up and swinging wildly. Hayes dodges one fist but catches the other to his ribs and I scream as the thud echoes in my head. Hayes pushes the man and follows so they’re out of sight.

I dig through my purse blindly while searching for the men around the car. My fingers close around my cell and I pull it out, fumbling to get my fingerprint to register. I shake so badly it’s hard to pull up my keypad to dial 911. I have never struggled so much to dial three numbers correctly, but after several attempts, I press the call button and hope to God they answer and can get here quickly. I hear another thud and I’m not sure who took the hit this time.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency,” the dispatcher says.

“Please help! There’s a man trying to steal our car.”

I look up as the scrape of metal against concrete rings ominously in the air.

“Oh my God, he’s got a knife. He’s going to hurt Hayes.”

“What’s your location?” she asks calmly.

“Um, it’s the Buckhead area.” I look around for any indication of street names but see the sign for the restaurant instead. “We’re outside of Napoletana Pizza, near Peachtree and Piedmont,” I say, finally remembering the cross streets.

“Officers are responding. They will be there shortly. Stay on the line.”

I listen for sounds of the fight but it’s grown quiet and I hope to God Hayes isn’t lying hurt and the attacker’s taken off.

“I can’t see them anymore,” I say, scanning through what I can see of the lot.

“Ma’am, do not go looking for them. Stay where you are safe,” the dispatcher cautions, but I’m already out of the car and looking around wildly.

“Oh my God, they’re gone. Hayes!” I shout, my head whipping around in search of where they could have gone.

“Ma’am, officers are less than a minute away, do not get involved.”

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