Page 86 of Loving You

He ran his hand down my back. Over my dress, I wore that suit jacket I’d been so eager to take off him earlier, and the familiar scent that clung to it was like being wrapped in one of his hugs. He’d thrown it over my shoulders the moment we’d stepped out front to speak with the police.

It wasn’t even cold out, but somehow, some way, he’d known the chills running through me had more to do with how utterlyexposedI felt than the temperature of the night air.

Everyone had seen me in Cliff’s grasp at the foot of those stairs.

They’d all pushed in from the reception area, and I watched them on the edges of the room behind Eric—staying a safe distance from us but watching in horror while Eric assessed the scene.

And then, when he’d acted… When Eric had closed the distance between his hiding spot and where Cliff had me trapped in that anaconda hold only to take him down with brutal, devastating efficiency, there’d been a collective gasp from the crowd.

That sound from the onlookers shouldn’t have even registered considering the hell I was going through at the time, but after keeping Cliff’s existence a secret for so long only for it to bite me in the ass at a wedding meant that gasp cut through the rest like a knife.

What. A. Shit show.

In the two hours since that moment when Eric karate chopped the shit out of my ex, we’d watched Cliff get hauled into the back of a cop car and then answered about a million questions from the police.

But the worst part was, even though the guests had returned to the reception area and tried to salvage what was left of the wedding reception, it hadn’t worked. Not with the bride and groom being questioned alongside us—as well as Will, Kate, and Rachel since they were also within feet of the epic takedown.

Sammy had tried to crowd-please the guests into doing something other than standing around and gawking at us during the questioning, but even that had failed, and soon they were all gone.

“Do you think they’re done with us?” I whispered, eyeing the circle of cops comparing notes with the detective assigned to the case.

“I hope so,” he murmured, hugging me tighter against his side and pressing a warm kiss to my temple. “It’ll be over soon, and then we can get you home.”

“April,” a sharp male voice called from the parking lot, followed by heavy footsteps as I turned around. “I just came from the station. You wanna tell me why I’m hearing about Cliff Peterson likethisinstead of straight from you,yearsago?”

Eric was apparently finished with the calculate-before-taking-action routine because before I could even open my mouth to reply, he swung his arm from around my shoulders to in front of my chest, easily gliding me behind him.

He squared up with the familiar detective who was way too well-dressed for such a small town and lifted his chin. “You wanna tell me why you think you deserve to hearanythingstraight from her?”

“It’s okay, Eric,” I said with a sigh, ducking under one of his rigid arms so it was firmly locked around my shoulders again. “This is Patrick. He’s—”

“Detective Patrick James,” Patrick said, standing straight and flashing the badge clipped to his belt with a flick of his suit jacket like a damnedCSI: Las Vegasguy. “And I don’t know who you are, buddy, but now’s not the time.”

“Now’s not the—”

“Eric.” I placed a hand on his chest as he stepped forward, surprised to find his muscles quivering due to the thin hold he had over his control.

But thankfully, even though my tone had been soft and gentle, he’d still stopped and looked down at me, waiting.

“Patrick was engaged to my sister a million years ago, and apparently he still thinks he has some kind of big-brother responsibility for me even though we haven’t seen him in like a decade.”

Eric’s gaze returned to the detective, and I felt him relax almost instantly. If there was one thing this Walker man understood, it was protective instincts, whether they were misguided or not.

Actually, with those Walker boys, it wasoftenmisguided, but they were hot and lovable, so it worked out.

“Which sister?” Eric asked with a long exhalation, like he was trying to dispel whatever he’d been feeling before.

I let my hand slip from his chest when I felt his heartbeat begin to slow and looked over my shoulder at the B&B before back to the man who’d broken her heart. “June.”

Patrick barely concealed a wince at the sound of her name, and I bit back another sigh. If he was still hung up on her, why had he done what he had? And why hadn’t he shown his face around here in so long?

Whatever. I had way bigger shit to deal with tonight than my oldest sister’s love life.

“And you are?” Patrick asked, putting his hands on his hips.

“Eric Walker,” he replied, extending his hand. “April’s boyfriend.”

Patrick shook it, then turned to me. “Guess that explains why you didn’t come to me. But you should have. Things could have turned out a lot differently.”

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