a soaking rain in the desert on a hot day.
Nash took a step back and turned his attention to her neighbor, sizing him up. “We’re just talking.”
Carrie used the distraction to dart toward her savior. He was a quiet guy in his late twenties, or maybe early thirties, who’d moved in with his elderly aunt in the same cul-de-sac as Carrie last fall. She presumed he’d moved to Cattle Barge to help his aging aunt, but she wasn’t sure because she’d been busy with the shop and only interacted with a few people in town on a personal level. Personal level? Carrie would laugh if anything about that or this situation was actually funny.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” She grabbed his arm, noticed he was shaking, and an icy chill raced down her spine. She withdrew her hand, chalking up the reaction to overwrought emotions. Nash seemed to realize immediately what she already knew. Samuel was no match. He was close to her height and had no muscle mass, but he’d distracted the worker and that was good enough for her to make an escape. Between the two of them, she had a chance of getting out of this unscathed. She wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Walk me to my car,” she said to Samuel, dodging Nash’s attempt to catch her arm.
Her neighbor shot the worker a look that was probably meant to scare him.
“Keep walking,” Carrie told Samuel in a low voice.
“The lady and me were trying to have a conversation,” Nash said. Based on the nearness of his voice, he wasn’t more than a step or two behind them.
Could they make it to her car without an altercation?
“It’s okay. Just keep our heads down and feet moving.” She didn’t want to provoke Nash any more.
Ten more feet and she’d be home free.
A callused hand gripped her shoulder, pinching hard, and she suppressed a yelp.
Samuel spun to his left to face off with Nash.
“She’s with me,” Samuel squeaked out, his voice shrill. He was trying to be a hero and was clearly not cut out for the job, because she could feel him trembling next to her. His skin had gone sheet white, and beads of sweat trickled down his forehead.
Like a shark zeroing in on a vibration of fear, Nash took a threatening step toward Samuel.
“Back off, little man,” Nash demanded, his rough hand clamping around Carrie’s arm.
She jerked it free and brought up the pepper spray. Nash caught her arm in time to stop her from aiming at his eyes.
“Carrie, is that you?” A dark rumble of a voice boomed from the end of the alley, and all three of them froze. She recognized who it belonged to immediately. Dade Butler’s voice made her heart thump a little faster, and for very different reasons than being scared. The inappropriateness of her reaction to him caught her off guard, especially after all this time.
“Dade,” she said, her voice sounding as desperate as she felt.
“Everything okay here?” Dade had to be at least six foot four, with a body built for athletics. Ripples of solid muscles were apparent underneath his white T-shirt and low-slung jeans. He seemed to size up the scene accurately, based on the deep wrinkle on his forehead and the fact that he was frowning.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” Nash threw his hands up in surrender. “I was just leaving.”
Samuel stepped between Carrie and Dade as though sizing up a new threat.
“It’s definitely better now that you’re here,” she said to Dade to calm some of Samuel’s tension. The message? Dade was a friend. Samuel just got the muscle he needed to avoid getting his face bashed in. He should be grateful instead of tense.
Nash seemed to take the hint, backing away before heading toward the cinema with a few choice words mumbled just loud enough to hear.
“How long has it been since the last time I saw you?” Dade asked Carrie, his eyes intent on Nash.
She stepped away from Samuel and toward the sound of Dade’s voice as a sensual shiver rocketed through her.
“Too long.” She hadn’t seen him since the news of his father broke and hadn’t talked to him in years. She could never forget that voice, and even though dark circles cradled his still-too-serious crystal-blue eyes, he looked damn good. She turned to Samuel, whose body language was even tenser now. “Thank you so much for stepping in when you did. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up. I’m good from here, though, so you don’t have to stick around.”
The quiet neighbor didn’t respond as he eyed Dade up and down. A glint of metal in his hand reflected in the light as he turned to face her. For the first time, she noticed that Samuel was hiding a knife. She appreciated that he was trying to help her and, sadly, they might’ve needed the weapon to fight off Nash. Between Samuel’s knife and her pepper spray, they might’ve had a prayer. But the festival worker seemed to know better than to try to take on Dade.
“Everything all right?” Dade’s brow arched as he seemed to process Samuel’s resistance to leave.
Samuel still seemed to be looking at everyone as a potential threat.
“It’s okay. I’m fine now. Dade’s a friend of mine,” Carrie said to Samuel. These were probably the most words she and Samuel had exchanged, and she was grateful he’d appeared when he did. It was probably adrenaline that had him still tense and ready to defend. He was somewhat awkward, and she figured he’d most likely dealt with his fair share of bullies in his lifetime, being on the scrawny side. The thought made her feel sorry for him. She knew what it was like to be pushed around and unable to defend herself. An angry riptide pulled at her thinking about it, about a past that had left her helpless. She dismissed thoughts that brought her back to that place where she was an innocent girl, fighting off someone who was supposed to be protecting her.
She shook off the reverie, focusing on Samuel. He nodded and seemed like he wanted to say something, but whatever it was died on his tongue. He settled on, “Good night, Carrie.”
He seemed so sad, and she wanted to do something to thank him. From the way he carried himself, she doubted he’d stood up for himself or anyone else for most of his life and it had taken a lot of courage for him to do what he’d done. “Stop by the shop tomorrow for an ice cream on the house, okay?”
“Thanks.” He smiled and she noticed his lip twitching—a nervous tic? Poor guy. He really was distressed, and she was even more grateful he’d tried to help. She’d send him home with a gallon of her signature ice cream blend for his aunt, too.
“’Bye, Samuel.” She stepped into a friendly hug with Dade, ignoring the shivers racing through her body with contact.
“What was up with him?” Dade pulled Carrie against his chest, and she felt how truly muscled he was. His sandy-blond hair and serious blue eyes made for one seriously hot package. And those were all things former friends weren’t supposed to think about each other. Notice, maybe, but not have a visceral reaction to.
“I really appreciate what you did after all these...” She diverted her gaze. In his arms, it was a little too easy to forget the awkwardness she’d felt toward him since high school. She pulled back, because thinking clearly while being barraged with his clean and spicy male scent made her pulse erratic.
Carrie was tall—not Dade tall, but tall—with midnight-black hair and tight curls that had minds of their own on humid days. She’d tamed them today with a straightening iron and had no idea why she was thinking about what her hair looked like after what had just happened. Stress caused her thoughts to bounce around, she reasoned.
“Are you shaking?” Dade asked.
“I guess so. That whole situation was stressful, but I’m fine now,” she said a little too quickly. She wasn’t okay. Recent events with Brett had her off-balance, and Nash had really done a number on her insides.