Page 9 of Ever With Me

“I’m fine.” He didn’t feel like explaining that he’d already been wearing a shiner before he’d gotten in the car.

“You sure? I can get you some ice if you need it. Or call 911.”

Hell no. He pushed the driver’s door shut and winced at the outside of the car. He’d have to get Darren to take care of that . . .

Shit, I fired him.

Dammit.

It’d been a long time since he handled anything like an insurance claim himself.

What he needed was an assistant and?—

The woman continued to stare at him, but she’d raised her eyebrows by now.

“Uh, yeah, great.” He released a long sigh and rubbed his neck again. Maybe he had a bit of whiplash.

“All right, well, I’m calling the cops anyway.” She turned toward the register.

The cops?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.”Brooks took a few long strides to reach her. “Hang on now. Do we have to do that?”

She whipped a suspicious look at him. “You don’t want me to call the cops?”

“Not really. If possible. I’m happy to take care of fixing all of this for you.”

She set her hands on her hips, arms akimbo. “Do I look like an idiot to you? You just drove your car into my store. I’mabsolutelycalling the cops.” She continued past him.

His hand shot out reflexively, grabbing her by the elbow. “Please, miss.”

A divot of consternation formed between her brows, and her gaze traveled down to his hand, then back to his eyes. “First, I’d appreciate you not touching me. Second, if you try anything with me, I will scream. I also have a gun and know how to use it.”

Of course she does.

He dropped his offending hand, his fingertips burning. “Sorry.” Taking a step back, he pinched the bridge of his nose and tried more peaceably, “Listen, I know it sounds suspicious as all hell when I ask you not to call the cops, but it’s a privacy thing for me.”

“Privacy?”

“Yeah, I. ..really rather not have this get out.”

“Not get out? Your frickin’ car is in my store. The window is gone. In three hours, all of Brandywood will know about this.” She scanned his face. “Besides, why would it make a difference if it gets out . . .”

A flash of recognition lit those pretty eyes.

Damn.

“Holy shit, you’re Brooks Kent.”

And there it is.He grimaced. “Yeah, I am.”

She bit her lip, an unreadable look on her face. “You have proof?”

He guffawed. “Proof?”

She crossed her arms. “You could just look like him. Be using that to your advantage.”

“You’re right, I could.” He reached into his pocket for his wallet and pulled out his license. “Here.”

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