Page 12 of Hot Lovin'

“Sooner, the better,” she whispers, the words hanging in the air between us.

I’m so close to her now that the scent of her perfume mixes with the crisp night air. Her eyes sparkle under the streetlights, and something about the way she looks at me makes every damn thing that’s wrong with the world fade into the background.

“Lottie...” Her name is barely more than a whisper. It’s loaded with all the things I want to say but can’t. Not yet.

“Quinn?” She mirrors my tone, her voice soft, expectant.

Time slows. Fuck, I want to kiss her again. I want to taste every damned inch of her. I lean in closer, drawn by a magnetic force I don’t have the strength to fight, nor do I want to. Our breaths mingle, our lips almost touching…

Screeching tires cut through the night air, a sharp contrast to the tender moment unfolding. Instinctively, I whip around, a silent warning sounding in my head. Why has the sound alarmed me so much? It’s not uncommon to hear the squeal of rubber on asphalt, yet somehow, it holds a menace. My gut tightens, my body poised to fight, and a rumble leaves my chest. My instincts are honed after years on the job, and I trust them implicitly.

“Quinn, what’s?—”

The world erupts into chaos before Lottie can finish.

I pull Lottie away from the streetlight, my hands rough but strong enough to move her. Bullets zip through the air where our heads were seconds ago. Adrenaline kicks my reflexes into overdrive. With no time to think, I grab Lottie tighter, and then we’re falling, tumbling to the ground as I shield her with my body. Concrete bites at my skin, but all I can think about is keeping her safe. Nothing else matters.

“Stay down!” I bark, scanning the dark street for the source of danger.

A car tears past us, engine roaring like a beast unleashed. Through the glare of the headlights, I try to catch the number plate, but the vehicle is moving too fast, disappearing around a corner.

I don’t need to see the drive or the plate, however, to know the fucker behind the wheel. This has Mike Hartless written all over it.

“Are you hit?” I ask Lottie, my voice rough with concern.

“No, I-I’m fine.”

“Stay here. I’m going to call this in.” I start to rise.

Her hand grips mine tight enough to convey the fear she’s trying not to show. “Quinn, don’t leave me,” she pleads.

I glance down at the pulse beating rapidly below her jaw. She’s afraid. How can I do anything but stay?

Helping her into a sitting position, I tug her onto my lap and wrap an arm firmly around her. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here.”

She burrows into me, fine tremors passing through her muscles. “Are they coming back?” she asks, trying to peer over my shoulder.

I fumble for my phone with my free hand, my fingers suddenly clumsy. “They’re gone. I won’t let them hurt you,” I vow, pressing the phone to my ear. “Dispatch, this is Sheriff Jordan. Shots fired...”

As I rattle off details to the dispatcher, I’m acutely aware of Lottie’s softness, her chest rising and falling rapidly against mine. The trust she’s placing in me does something to my insides, twisting them in a way that’s both painful and exhilarating. I’ve never felt more alive than I do at this moment. Or more connected to the extraordinary woman in my arms.

“Help is on the way,” I tell her once the call ends, my gaze searching hers.

Her eyes are wide, but they hold a fierce determination that matches the pounding of my heart. She has a thread of steel running through her. She’s scared out of her mind, but she’s not falling apart. Not Lottie.

“Lottie, I…” Words fail me because what do you say after you’ve been shot at? How do I bridge the gap between death brushing past us and the warmth of the woman who’s come to mean more to me than I ever expected? A woman who seems to have captured my heart without even trying.

“Kiss me, Quinn,” she whispers, her voice laced with urgency and something wild that sends my senses reeling.

I don’t hesitate.

Our lips crash together in a collision of fear, relief, and raw emotion. It’s a kiss born from the need to feel alive, to reaffirm that we’re both still here, hearts beating furiously within our chests.

Her hands clutch at my back, pulling me closer, and I pour every ounce of protectiveness, every shred of desire into that kiss. Our tongues meld in an ancient dance that makes my groin throb and sends heat to every part of me.

We break apart, gasping for air. Lottie shivers as I slide my knuckles over her cheek and tuck a strand of golden hair behind her ear. A siren wails in the distance, getting closer, but for a heartbeat of time, it’s only us in the world. Lottie and me.

“Quinn.” She breathes my name like a lifeline. “What happens now?”

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