Page 5 of Tice's Kind of Trouble
When he reaches my table, he gently lays a hand on my head, stroking my hair, tilting my face up to look at him.
Heavens.
His warm, callused finger rests against my pulse. Eyes the color of strong coffee search my face.
My head swims for a different reason. Him.
For a beat we just stare at each other.
Weird sensations spring up all over my body—tingles, prickles, warmth, and sensations I don’t have words for.
Did I just fall in love at first sight? Impossible.
“Did he hurt you?” Tice asks in a low, husky tone that does very bad things to my nipples.
When did my breasts become antenna?
I’m consumed with physical signals so swiftly that it becomes hard to think. It takes a violent mental shake to get real words to come out of my mouth.
“That guy? No. He offered to buy me a cup of tea.”
“I heard that over the phone,” Tice bites out each seething word, his attention burning hotter. “The cops are on the way to run his background.”
It hits me then in a fresh wave of panic—I have no idea who broke into my house. It could be anyone. Even the wimpish-looking guy that’s now sitting, stunned into open-mouthed silence in the chair near the muffin case.
Nausea churns through me, an oily wave, making me cold and hot at once.
Bad people don’t always look like bad people. You’ve got to remember they could be a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
My brother’s words echo over and over in my mind.
A flood of hot tears claw up toward my eyes. “I think I’m going to cry now.”
Tice makes a jagged sound as he pulls me into his arms. Scooped completely off the ground, cradling me against his hard chest, he strides out of the coffee shop.
Over his shoulder, I meet the customers’ boggled expressions before I bury my face in his warm, muscular neck and let myself cry. Really cry.
THREE
Tice
Kane Mathews is double-timing across the street, the door to his rented SUV open, when he realizes I’ve got his sister in my arms.
“Jesus, what happened?”
“I’ve got her.” I shove him out of the way with one hand as I continue to my truck, which is blocking everything.
Kane pivots and roars up next to me, a freight train of anger. “Did someone in there hurt her?”
Doesn’t matter that the guy didn’t touch her. He was too close to her.
“A guy was harassing her. Blue shirt. Stupid haircut. Watch him until the cops arrive.”
Kane’s head swivels, his dead-eye stare locking on the guy, something a lot like a growl coming from his chest. “Did he lay his goddamned hands on her?”
“He tried to buy me a cup of tea,” Bethany interrupts, her voice thick with tears. “It’s probably okay, but Tice reminded me he could be a bad… guy…”
When she chokes on her words, I cup her face to my chest. “Shhh. Let’s get you out of here, babe.”
