Page 12 of Entranced in the Mountains
“You okay, angel?” he asks, dark eyes softening just enough to make my knees weak.
I nod my head, not trusting my voice. The sight of this silver fox holding Cooter like he’s nothing has my whole body humming.
This man is pure authority. He’s protective. Possessive. Arealalpha. Not some loser who cosplays as an alpha on the internet. This man lives and breathes that title. It’s effortless for him.
“I… yeah.” My voice trembles. “Thank you.”
He tilts his head, scanning me for injuries. “Did he hurt you?”
“I didn’t do shit,” Cooter wails. “That bitch slapped me! I fucking told you.”
“I warned you,” the Sheriff says in a low, lethal tone.
He looks like he’s about to do something violent when a giant cop with biceps the size of boulders comes barreling in. That must be the cop he called—Emmanuel.
The Sheriff squeezes his fist, takes a deep breath, and shoves Cooter into Emmanuel’s arms. “Take him to the station.”
Emmanuel looks at his boss, and then at me, and then back to his boss. “You okay?” he asks.
“Get him out of my sight or you’ll have to carry him out of here,” the Sheriff growls.
“You got it,” Emmanuel says as he pulls him out, ‘accidentally’ bumping him into the doorframe.
I take a breath of relief now that he’s gone.
It’s just me and the hot Sheriff and the echo of my pulse in my ears.
“Are you okay?” he asks, those brown eyes full of kindness and worry.
I nod, but the trembling starts. It’s probably just nerves or adrenaline, but my hands are shaking.
He reaches out and touches my arm. It calms some of the trembling and makes me feel better. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, but he was going to.” My voice is all shaky as I look up at him. “Then you came.”
He bends down a little, his intense eyes locked on mine. “That won’t happen again. Not while I’m breathing. I won’t let anyone touch you.”
I swallow hard when I see the sincerity in his eyes. He means it. Whoisthis man?
“What’s your name, angel?”
“Ellie,” I say.
He steps closer, not crowding me but close enough that I can smell his woodsy cologne. His hand brushes my elbow—just a touch, but it sends a tingle up my arm.
“You were so brave,” he says, his voice low and gentle. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
“I’m okay.” I’m saying it both to myself and to him. “Because of you.”
“You did the right thing.”
“Slapping him?”
He grins. “Making noise.” His gaze drops to my mouth for a dangerous heartbeat. “I heard you.”
I swallow hard.
“I’m sure you clocked him good,” he says with a chuckle. “He’ll think twice about messing with you again.”
