Page 73 of The Cowboy Complication

“Do we know if it’s the same guy we found here last week?” He wasn’t necessarily in the mood for another cross-cow patty race. “Because if he runs again, Peters gets to chase him this time.”

“You just know I’ll judge you for how long it’ll take you to catch him.” Peters turned to Grady. “So what’s the plan? Are we coming in from the backside to keep it secure until the crisis team gets here?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Do we know if he has a weapon?” Peters asked.

Grady shook his head. “Haven’t seen one, but we should operate on the assumption he’s armed. As far as I know, he didn’t make any sort of specific threats, but you’ve gotta have some sort of motivation to keep a hostage contained.”

After calling in their location, the three of them set out across the field. It was dark as hell and cold as fuck, making for a long, treacherous walk, but eventually, the barn in question came into sight. Grady motioned one direction then pointed to Peters, sending him up the left side. He gestured for Cooper to take the right, as he stayed at the center. They all went their respective ways and got into position.

Finding a low spot that would offer him a little cover, Cooper crouched down, going to one knee as he scanned the area, straining for any sound he could pick up. He’d barely been down two minutes before all hell broke loose. Someone started yelling inside the barn, followed by a few heavy thuds—possibly the swinging of a hammer or something similarly weighted. He’d just gotten to his feet when the door on his side of the structure flew open and a man ran out.

Reaching for the mic at his shoulder, he called out, “He’s coming out the south side.” Cooper got to his feet and took off after him, running through the same damn field he’d chased what was likely the same damn criminal the week before. “I’m in pursuit, headed southwest toward the treeline.”

It was the same path as before, making him even more sure it was also the same guy as before. A man had to be some kind of stupid to hit the same place after getting caught and arrested the first time.

Or some kind of determined to get his hands on whatever was there.

He didn’t have the opportunity to question what it could be that had this guy coming back a second time, because at that moment, the man stopped, turned, and lifted both arms. Not in surrender.

But to aim.

There wasn’t time to brace or even think about taking cover before two shots split the night. The first hit him square in the chest, knocking every bit of air out of his lungs as it connected with his vest.

Stumbling back, Cooper reached for his weapon, managing to get it unholstered just as the second shot connected. Pain radiated down his arm and across his shoulder as warmth spread over his skin. He started to go down, getting only a single shot of his own off before hitting the dirt.

As the stars above him started to blur, he could only think of one thing.

He should have fucking told Isla he loved her.

23

Isla

HOLY CRAP, HOW could a day be so freaking long?

Isla dragged her exhausted butt out the back door of Grady and Evelyn’s house, pulling the bundle of her coat closer against the cold as she hurried to her car.

She’d stayed later than planned, having dinner with Evelyn, Griselda, and her grandpa since Cooper was at work. It sounded like a great idea at the time, but now she was running later than she’d expected. And she still had to go to her apartment to collect her mail and a few more changes of clothes. She’d been staying with Cooper since the night she went to The Creekery with Evelyn and Griselda. And while it was exactly where she wanted to be, it was occasionally inconvenient to not have all her stuff.

Opening the driver’s door, she fell into the seat and started the engine, immediately switching on the seat warmer. That thing was worth its weight in gold. Especially at times like this, when her car had been sitting outside instead of in Cooper’s warm garage.

After dropping her bag into the seat next to her and belting in, she backed out of her spot, using the yoga studio’s lot to turn around so she could pull out onto the road. It was darker than dark out—a stark contrast to living in the city—but she was getting used to it. Had learned to appreciate the sight of the stars and the brightness of the moon.

But damned if it didn’t make her nervous behind the wheel.

She drove slower than she probably needed to, but eventually pulled up behind her building. The Wooden Spoon was closed for the day, so there weren’t many cars in the lot and she was able to park right up front. Thank goodness, since she’d be carrying out a few bags and didn’t want to hoof it any farther than necessary.

Cooper seemed okay with her bringing more things over, so she was going to pack up a bunch of clothes and most of her toiletries. Enough she wouldn’t have to come back again for a few days.

Letting herself in the back door, she stopped off at the mailbox, opening it to pull out the stack inside. She started up the stairs, flipping through the envelopes as she went, pausing at one that looked plain and nondescript from the outside.

A smile spread across her face as she tore into it, sliding out the plastic rectangle inside to look over her very first driver’s license. She’d seen the photo it sported before—it was printed out in black and white on her temporary version—but it looked way better in color. Her hair was blown out and shiny. Her eyes were bright and her smile was wide. “I don’t look half bad.”

“You look great.”

She nearly shit her pants at the unexpected voice echoing through the stairwell. Reaching one hand out to brace against the railing, the other—along with all the mail it held—went to her chest, pressing against her racing heart.

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