Page 103 of Coffee Shop Girl
“Bethany?”
Maverick slipped past the deputies sweeping up the scattered glass and paused in the doorway. His fear-filled gaze slammed into mine. The burning terror in my chest broke. I reached for him.
He grabbed me a second before I collapsed.
“Lizbeth called me.” His arms tightened, and his broad shoulders swallowed me. He alone held me up. “I hauled down the canyon from Jackson City, but there was a slow car and ... she said Jim was drunk and had a gun. She...”
He surveyed the coffee shop over the top of my head.
I molded into him. My body shook until my teeth chattered. I felt cold all over, strangely distant, able to think only one thought.
He came back.
Vaguely, I heard the deep rumble of Maverick speaking to Sheriff Bailey. Felt him pick me up and take me to his truck. He set me on the seat next to him and drove with his arm around me. Trees flashed by. I kept my eyes closed and held on to him.
35
Maverick
Bethany’s teeth clattered as I carried her up the stairs and onto the deck. Her hands felt like ice through my shirt. I lowered us onto a deck chair in the sun. A tear slipped down her cheek as she looked at me with soulful, terrified eyes.
“Jim,” she whispered. “H-he—”
“I know.”
“I thought we would die. I thought...”
A lock of hair fell into her eyes. I tucked it away. “You saved them, Bethany. You did so good.”
“B-but I could have. He could have. It...”
I trapped her hands in mine, pressing a kiss to them. “It didn’t. Everyone is safe. He won’t ever hurt you again.”
Tears filled her eyes. She reached out, brushing my cheek with a feather-light touch. “You came back.”
“Nothing could have stopped me. I’m Team Bethany all the way.”
With a cry, she closed the distance between us. Her lips claimed mine. She kissed me with all the frantic passion of someone who’d faced death and come out the victor. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close, not satisfied until every part of her pressed against me.
“I’m sorry, Bethany,” I whispered. She pulled away, hazy with fear and passion. “I was such a fool.”
“No.” She trailed a hand down my face. “You were right. I still had things to work out. Things to . . . face.”
Overwhelmed, I grabbed her chin, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and tucked her into my arms. With a sigh, she rested her head against my neck. Her trembling slowed.
“My dad committed suicide four years ago,” I said.
She paused but didn’t look at me. Grateful, because that made it easier, I pressed on. The words tumbled out. I couldn’t have stopped them if I wanted to, and I didn’t.
“It was just after Mallory and Baxter announced a devastating loss their company, Epsilon, suffered as a result of a failing sales force. They weren’t sure the company would recover. I’d been working as a sales manager with another company, so they recruited me. I took over their sales team. Within a year, they’d grossed their first million.”
Her shoulders relaxed. She laid a hand on my chest. Her eyelashes fluttered as I explained what I was doing in Jackson City. The call with Mallory. Sensing that my voice calmed her, I kept going. Told her about my family. My four brothers. How much I’d adored my father. How I’d gone home to hear it all out—all the gory details—with my mom. We’d called a family council and hashed it out. Finally, my family had spoken about the gory details.
Ugly, healing tears were shed.
“My dad always talked about me going to medical school. Working with people like him who’d lost movement in their legs. Doing research with stem cells to figure out a cure. But I didn’t. He had a lot of ideas for me that I didn’t pursue, and I thought I’d disappointed him. My dad was my hero, working legs or not. I assumed I’d failed him. But I was wrong.”
I blew out a long breath. She reached around me, tightening her hold.
