Page 41 of Never and Always
“No,” Piper cried. “I…my brother…”
She was still protecting her damn brother.
I looked at Gunnar. “We’ll revisit that tomorrow.”
The big man nodded.
After Piper shared hugs with the women, I collected her coat and bag, then hustled her to my truck. I bundled her into the passenger side, then quickly circled it and got in. The first thing I did was get the heat blowing. She was curled in on herself, still shaking.
“Stay with me, Piper. You’re safe.” My hands curled on the steering wheel as I drove. It felt like a repeat of the other night, when I’d assured her she’d be safe.
She’d almost been kidnapped right in front of me.
Whoever her brother owed money to was bad news. Especially if they were willing to snatch an innocent woman off the street.
“Piper?”
“I’m all right. I’ll be all right.”
I drove as fast as I could and finally reached my townhouse. I drove into my garage, cut the engine, then rounded the vehicle. She already had the door open, but before she could climb out, I slid my arms under her and hauled her into my arms.
“Everett, I can walk.”
I ignored her, then juggling her in my arms, I opened the door leading into my house with one hand. I carried her inside.
It was warm inside. I’d lit a fire earlier, and it had burned down to low embers. I’d put some more wood in it and get it going again.
I set her on my couch, grabbed my throw blanket, and wrapped it around her.
“This is nice.” She stroked the soft wool. “Too nice for a guy to have bought.”
“My mom gave it to me on Christmas.”
“Ah, makes sense. Did she help you decorate this place?”
My heart squeezed. “No. She died before I bought it.”
Piper’s head jerked up. “I’m sorry.”
“Stay there. I’m going to make you some tea.”
Her nose wrinkled. “Do I strike you as the tea type?
“No.” I smiled. “But you need something warm and soothing.” While the kettle boiled, I fished out a tea bag. I carried the mug over to her.
She’d kicked off her sexy, little boots and had her long legs curled under her on the couch. She was wearing long, wide-legged, black trousers, topped with a bronze-colored knit top. It looked so soft and clung to her body. She was huddled into the blanket, still looking a little pale and lost.
“Here.”
She took the mug, but her hands were still shaking. She managed a sip. “God, I don’t know why I’m shaking so hard.”
“It’s your body’s reaction to a dangerous situation. A little shock.” I sat beside her. “Remember, you’re safe here.”
I shifted to crouch by the fire and tossed a few more logs in. I stoked it until the flames had roared back to life.
She sipped again. “This isn’t too bad.”
“It’s chamomile. Maybe we’ll turn you into a tea drinker, after all.” I noticed her shirt and side of her pants were damp from where she’d fallen in the snow. “I’m going to get you something dry to wear. Something you can sleep in.”
