Page 45 of Tight Spot

Dawson’s plan would go up in flames, and there I’d be, pronounced dead in a blue silk dress.

“Hailey.”

Oh god, he was close. Close enough to hear me practically gagging with nerves.

“Yeah?” I cleared my throat and covered my mouth as another round of the coughing fit from hell hit me.

A very large, warm hand settled on my back with only a small amount of pressure. And dear god, I prayed for the coughing fit to take me right then. Right there.

No way could I face Dawson after this.

“Sorry,” I croaked, coughing again.

His hand ran lightly up and down my back. “It’s okay. You all right?”

I nodded, carefully wiped my eyes as the fit subsided. I was still alive, which was both fortunate and unfortunate.

Now I had to sit up.

Moving was difficult seeing as how his hand was still at my back, covering almost the entire exposed area. He had a strange reaction on my nerves. With every sweep of his hand against my spine, the trembling in my legs subsided. My heart rate began returning to normal, and the sweaty palm situation resolved itself as I placed my index fingers beneath my bottom eyelashes to hopefully swipe away any unfortunate mascara mishaps.

“I’m good,” I managed to say.

Dawson’s hand drifted from my back to my left arm. He curled it around my bicep and gave me a gentle tug.

I resisted, only minimally because his hand was still creating those miraculous calming effects, and when I was finally sitting in my driver’s seat, I rested my head against my headrest and rolled my head in his direction.

“Hey,” I said stupidly, and with that hand on my arm, I was pretty sure I looked drugged. Felt like it.

Dawson was bent over the opening in my door, his other hand braced on the top of my Camry. He was imposing. His dark hair was loose and created a shadow of his hard edges and deep set dark eyes. He’d shaven and cleaned up his beard. The darkness made him appear dangerous.

My mouth watered to run my lips along his jaw and risk the danger.

His tie swung loose, and I blinked. Double-blinked.

“Your tie matches my dress.”

His lips, full and lush, curled up at the corners. “Had Josephine kit me out after she got you sorted. She thought you’d like it.”

I did. Very much so. His suit was dark. Either a midnight blue or ebony black, hard to tell with the lighting and the stark white of his dress shirt made the blue tie pop.

Could have been the light from my car.

“Gotta question for you.”

“Anything.” I’d tell him anything he wanted to know. Probably do anything he asked. No limits. No questions.

“You going to get out of that car so we can get going, or are we hanging out in here all night?”

“Right.” I chuckled and pressed the button to turn my car off.

The country music I’d had playing went silent and all that was left was the sound of our breathing and cicadas in the background. The quiet rumble of a distant engine that could only be the typical kind of Tennessee tricked-out massive truck.

I was no longer certain I’d survive the night if I left my car.

“I vote for staying in my car all night.”

He let loose a soft chuckle and gave my arm a gentle tug. “How about you undo the seatbelt, grab that purse in your passenger seat, and I’ll grab the small bag in your backseat. We’ll go in, have a drink or some water so you relax, and then we’ll get going.”

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