Jace (Kings of Country 1)

“I miss you too.” Emmy said, blinking raindrops from her lashes. “Enough to walk through a parking lot, in the rain, with an umbrella that won’t open, and keep talking to you.” She kept pressing the button on the handle, but it didn’t help. Of course, the rain was falling faster now; big pelting drops.

“Where is Sawyer? Why isn’t our bulky, scowling bodyguard carrying a massive bulletproof umbrella over your head? Or have you wrapped in bulletproof bubble-wrap? Or, at least, driven you inside the coliseum versus dropping you off in the rain, in the back forty?” There was a hint of accusation in her sister’s voice. “I assumed he’d be Velcro-ed by your side since you’re his number one person to protect. And that’s his job.”

“Be nice to Sawyer.” Being a bodyguard for the Kings couldn’t be easy. This last year especially—with all the drama. But he’d stuck it out and stayed with them. Either he was super loyal or her daddy paid him really well. Maybe both. “He wanted to be here.” Emmy wiped the rain from her eyes. “He had to go pick up Travis down the road—because our brother ran out of gas.” She sighed, clicking the button on her umbrella again. “And I’m getting soaked because this thing is broken.”

“You’re probably just not doing it right.” Krystal was all innocence. “Are you pressing the button?”

“Are you serious?” Emmy Lou stared at her sister, coming to a stop.

“No.” She burst into laughter. “But you sort of set yourself up for that one.”

“I should hang up.” Emmy laughed, peering at the stadium through the rain. Rain that was getting heavier and faster.

“But you won’t.” Krystal leaned forward. “Then again…you are starting to look like a wet rat. Walk faster.”

Emmy stuck out her tongue at her sister, her steps quickening. “Where is Jace? Normally you two are glued at the hip.”

“You have no idea.” She bobbed her eyebrows and giggled.

“And I don’t want one, thank you very much.” She was jogging now, weaving around the parked cars.

“He’s doing an interview for an Australian magazine. They really love him here.” Krystal grinned. “What’s not to love?”

Emmy smiled. “He is pretty lovable.” She adored her sister’s boyfriend. Jace Black was a good guy and he loved her sister with the perfect mix of tender and fierce. And Krystal? Emmy had never seen her sister like this. Happy. Smilin

g. At peace, for the first time in so long.

“Isn’t he, though?” Krystal was gushing. She never gushed. Not before Jace, anyway.

“I’m glad you two are having such a good—”

The squeal of brakes had her jumping a good ten feet in the air. A truck, going way too fast in a parking lot—in a torrential downpour—skidded to a stop mere inches from where she stood. It happened too fast for her to move. Too fast to do anything but curl in on herself, dropping her umbrella and holding her other hand, and phone, out to protect herself. Which, considering the vehicle was massive and she was not, didn’t make any sense but… it was instinctual. She braced herself on the truck hood, her knees knocking so hard there was a high likelihood she’d collapse onto the slick concrete at any moment.

“Holy shit,” Krystal was saying, the phone now face down on the hood. “Emmy! Emmy? Can you hear me? Are you okay? Answer me.”

She could have been hit… Almost was. But wasn’t. Emmy flipped the phone over. “Here.” But she was gasping for breath. Her heart pumped madly, reaching what had to be the maximum beats per minute. “Fine.”

She was vaguely aware of the truck driver’s side door opening wide, followed by rapid footsteps plashing in newly formed puddles. But she was still grappling with the whole near-death experience to process the arrival of her almost assailant.

“Where is the driver? Are they getting out? Hold your phone up,” Krystal growled. “I want to see what this asshole has to say about nearly running you over.”

“Are you okay?” said the mountain of a man heading her way.

“I’m fine.” She answered, rubbing water from her eyes. Her hand shook. Her voice shook. But she was okay.

“You didn’t see me coming?” he asked, stepping closer. “My truck?”

“Seriously, Emmy Lou, hold up the phone,” Krystal snapped. “You couldn’t see her? In her bright-yellow and pink, daisy-covered raincoat? Because, honestly, she might as well be wrapped, head-to-toe, in reflective tape. Asshole.”

“Krystal,” Emmy whispered into the mic hanging from her earpiece.

“Hold up the phone. You might need a witness.” Krystal sighed. “Emmy Lou, I’m serious.”

Emmy held up the phone, unable to avoid the constant trembling.

The man came around the hood of the truck and stopped. His eyes widened and his mouth opened, but he didn’t say anything. Shock probably. Complete and total shock. Not just because he’d almost turned her into a smudge in the stadium parking lot, but because he was who he was and she was who she was and they were standing face-to-face…staring, at each other, in the rain…

“Brock?” Krystal sounded just as stunned. “Is that Brock? Is that you?”