Page 13 of Lock ’N’ Load

She laughed. “Definitely.” At least she’d managed four syllables without tripping over her words.

“What were you working on so late?” he asked, then held up his hand. “Never mind. Top secret, right?”

She gave him a brief smile. “New assignment. I was stuck on something and didn’t want to leave until I broke through it.”

“That’s job dedication.” He nodded. “How often do you have asthma attacks?”

“Not often anymore.” She shook her head. “Stress can trigger one, b-but it’s not usually this bad.”

His hands tightened around the wheel. “Getting attacked at knifepoint definitely qualifies as stress.”

“My doctor always told me to avoid mental pressure, and to exercise d-daily to keep any stress under control.”

“Do you?” He glanced at her. “Exercise every day?”

“The only parts of my b-body that get any exercise are m-my fingers.” She let out a heavy sigh.

“You okay?” he asked, giving her a quick glance.

“Fine. I was thinking that if I’d b-been stronger, or had taken some self-defense cl-classes, this m-might not have happened.” At least, she might not have been so totally helpless.

“Don’t kick yourself.” He slowed as he took the exit. “Even if you worked out every day with weights, you probably wouldn’t have been strong enough to fight him off. But the self-defense classes are a good idea. I can get you a list of courses in the local area.”

“Okay.”

The rest of the ride passed in silence until they braked to a stop in front of her modest ranch house. She watched her car pull into the driveway, then a marked unit parked in front of them at the curb.

A snort and a puff of hot air at the back of her head made her jump, twisting in the seat to find Sheba standing directly behind her, the dog’s golden gaze holding her transfixed. Her heart beat faster, and she forced herself to breathe slowly, praying she wouldn’t have another asthma attack.

“Sheba, lehni.” Sgt. Connors turned to her as the dog lay down obediently. “One day you’ll realize she’ll never hurt you. I promise.”

She swallowed, only somewhat comforted by the cage between her and the dog, then cast him a disagreeing glare. “Sure I will.”

This time, his mouth lifted into a full-fledged smile, and her heart rate kicked up even more but not from stress this time. Hardly. The sight of all that manly deliciousness bestowed upon her mousy, dowdy little self did all kinds of unexpectedly appealing things to her body. Like making her belly tingle.

Even though there was no chance a man like him would ever be hers, she was gratified to know her body was at least functioning on a normal level around this guy. Even if her brain wasn’t.

Taking a deep breath, she held out her hand to him. “Thank you, Sgt. Connors. For the ride home, and for saving m-my life.”

Smiling, he took her hand in his. “So formal. Call me Matt.”

Before she could process how his large hand completely engulfed hers, he was out of the truck and walking up to the officer who’d gotten out of her car. Matt took the keys, then shook the other cop’s hand.

When the marked unit drove off, she reached for the car door handle when the door opened.

“C’mon. I’ll walk you in.”

She slipped off the seat and nearly plowed into his chest. Standing so close to him made her realize just how big he was. “How t-tall are you?” she blurted out, then felt silly about the childlike bluntness of her question.

With his hand at the small of her back, he closed her door, chuckling. “Six-four. Six-five or more in these shit-kicker boots.”

“Wow. I’m f-five-one.”

“Don’t shortchange yourself. You’re at least five-two in your shoes.”

A squeaky laugh bubbled from her throat. When they got to her door, he handed her keys to her and waited while she opened it and turned on the porch and living room lights. She turned to see him standing just outside the door. “Th-thank you again, Sgt.—”

He held up his hand, interrupting her. “It’s Matt. And from now on, maybe you’ll stop to say hello on your way into Langley. Although I expect you to call in sick later.”