“What for?”
“For not keeping you in my arms for the next three days straight, at least,” he growls. “After that, I mean.”
The car rumbles to a stop outside, and he tenses. “But I have to see what this is. Just promise me to stay down. If you hear shooting—”
“West!” I gasp, throwing my arms around him.
“I’ll be fine, Taylor,” he rumbles. “Just promise me you’ll stay down and out of sight. Okay?”
“I promise,” I whisper. “Just, please be careful!”
He grins a roguish grin. “Always, baby girl.”
He kisses me, stands, slips some board shorts on, and flicks the safety off of the gun.
“Let’s see who the hell this is.”