Page 18 of Stormswept Colorado

“Copy that.” But she looked nervous. Susan had been on the force for going on fifteen years, but she was a small-town cop through-and-through. We rarely dealt with anything like this. Not even that snarl of reporters that showed up the first time Ayla Maxwell was in Silver Ridge.

A shop owner had called this in. Mentioned Ayla was here. But where was she? Was she okay?

My throat went tight, my awareness sharpening as I scanned the crowd. Men were trading blows while others ducked out of the way.

Blood poured from the nose of a massive guy with a buzz cut. I saw him slam his meaty fist into another guy’s stomach.Shit.

“Break it up!” I sprinted for the center of the fray, nudging gawkers out of my path when they wouldn’t move.

Then I saw blond hair flying, so pale it was almost white.Pretty pink lips open in a yell. Five and a half feet of pure attitude in the eye of the storm.

My heart did a strange flop in my chest as time seemed to slow.

A tall, skinny man in a ski jacket had his fingers around Ayla’s wrist. She was trying to pull away. Heat and adrenaline flooded my bloodstream, and time lurched forward again.

“Hey, back off!” I roared.

The kid holding on to Ayla glanced over, saw me coming, and bolted through the crowd. I reached her, immediately putting myself physically between her and the mayhem.

“You need to come with me.”

She turned in my direction, her expression doing a complicated dance when she recognized me. “But Bryan?—”

“Ayla,” I barked. “Let’sgo.”

She wasn’t listening. There was a law-enforcement rule of thumb when dealing with uncooperative members of the public. ATM. Ask, then tell, thenmove.

I had to get her out of here.

“Wait—” she started.

But I was done asking. Bending to wrap my arms around her hips, I hoisted her up.

Every part of me jolted at the sensation of having her pressed to me. Her silky hair brushed my cheek, and I caught a whiff of something darkly sweet, like caramel. The warm weight of her body settled against me like it belonged there.

But it also seemed to wake her back up, because she cried out in protest. “What thehell! Put me down!”

I was already weaving through the crowd. I heard Susan issuing orders and breaking up the worst of the fight. Our backup was only minutes away.

My main concern was Ayla. Removing her from this equation.

I had no idea what had sparked that brawl, but Ayla’spresence was nothing but fuel to that fire. My job was to get her somewhere safe.

The first open doorway I saw led into Main Street Market. Rosie stood there staring in shock at the street fight. She stepped out of the way when I rushed toward her. “Chief?”

“We’re fine,” I said. “Anybody asks, we’re not here.”

“Put me down!” Ayla yelled again.

I knew how this looked. Like I’d just scooped up the most beautiful woman to ever set foot in this town and was carting her away for purposes of my own. But now wasn’t the time for explanations.

Once I was through the main entrance, I turned right. Headed for the bathroom. It was empty. I barreled inside, switched on the light, twisted the lock.

I set Ayla down, and she tried to wiggle her way past me for the door.

“Oh, hell no. You’re not going anywhere.”

“You can’t keep me in here.” Her glare was enough to send a lesser man running with his tail between his legs. Or more likely, with his balls shriveling.

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