Captivating Witness. Melinda Lorenzo Di

hammering hard against her rib cage. It was utterly dark, and she was in a strange bed. Pushing up in a panic, she whipped her gaze around the room. Nothing was familiar. But when her gaze landed on the hulking form lying next to her, her memory finally did its job and reminded her of the night’s frightening ordeal.

      Brayden.

      The gunshot.

      Chuck.

      The run through the forest.

      More Brayden. And—

      Wait.

      What was the big man doing in the bed beside her?

      She took a steadying breath and reached out a hand to touch his shoulder lightly. Too lightly. He didn’t move.

      “Brayden?”

      She waited. Still nothing. She tried a combo instead. Squeezing his elbow and speaking a little louder.

      “Brayden.”

      And that got a response. Sort of. He rolled to his side, flung an arm over her legs, then slid it up to her hips and dragged her into a backward embrace. Reggie was so startled by the abruptly intimate contact that she let herself be pulled into place without protest. And just like that, she was spooning with a man she barely knew.

      But it felt good. Comfortable. His large form was warm and safe, and without meaning to, she wriggled a tiny bit closer, inhaling the woodsy scent that emanated from his body. Her rear end fit snugly against his upper thighs.

      More than snugly, really. Perfectly.

      It was kind of a strange realization, and it made her heart skitter nervously. With a sigh that had more than a hint of regret, Reggie slipped her hand over top of his and slid it out of its resting place just to the side of her stomach. Very gently, she eased it off and inched away. But when she pushed back into a sitting position again, Brayden’s eyes opened, too, and he blinked at her a little sleepily. He looked rumpled and confused and far sexier than was fair.

      “Hey.” His gaze cleared a little as it landed on her. “You better?”

      “Better?” she repeated.

      He stretched and put one hand behind his head. “Think you were having a bad dream. Sat down beside you to try to wake you up. Kinda grabbed my sweater and held on. You’ve got a heck of a death grip. I must’ve dozed off, too.”

      Warmth crept up Reggie’s cheeks. “Sorry.”

      “Minor inconvenience,” he teased.

      “I actually don’t even remember falling asleep. Wait. What time is it? You wanted me to phone my friend.”

      “Decided it could wait.” Brayden rolled over and pulled his phone from the nightstand. “It’s a little after seven in the morning.”

      Reggie’s chest squeezed nervously. “Seven? But it’s pitch-black.”

      “Room-darkening blinds.” He reached over to the window and flicked open the fabric just enough that a soft light filled the room.

      “We slept the whole night?”

      “Looks like it.”

      “Why aren’t you more worried?”

      “We’re safe here at the cabin. Doors are locked, alarm is set and I’m not on anyone’s radar. You can still call your friend and give your excuse retroactively.”

      She exhaled, then slid back onto the bed—closer to him, but not quite touching—and held out her hand for the phone. “I’ll send a text.”

      Brayden handed over the slim device. “I’ll make some coffee.”

      She waited until he’d left the room before keying in the number for her best friend—whose family leased another shop from Garibaldi—and typing, Hi, Jaz. It’s Reggie. U up?

      She knew before even asking that her friend would be awake. With a newborn in the house, sleep was an elusive thing for the other woman. The reply came through a few seconds later, confirming it.

      Ugh. Baby’s been awake since five. Whose phone is this?

      Reggie winced. She hadn’t thought of an explanation for that. She decided to ignore the question for a moment.

      I had such a headache last night, she wrote, feeling a little guilty at the fabrication. Crashed before the fireworks even started.

      Hope ur not getting that flu that your staff has had.

      I think it’s just a migraine. But I’m gonna rest for a while longer, just to be sure.

      U still coming to the fair?

      As long as it turns out to be just a headache. Can u let the right people know that I’ll still be there? Don’t want anyone to think I’m not coming.

      Yeah. Sure. What about work?

      I’ll get one of the girls to cover my lunch rush.

      Good plan. Do u need me to bring u anything right now?

      Reggie’s guilt slipped away at the thought that her friend might insist.

      She punched in a quick reply. Thanks, but no. If I do turn out to be sick, I don’t want to share.

      Good point. But u sure u don’t want soup or something?

      Yep. Thanks.

      Reggie breathed out, relieved the deception had gone smoothly. But she didn’t get off quite so easily. The phone pinged again. She looked down with a groan.

      One more thing, though... Jaz had written.

      What?

      WHOSE PHONE IS THIS?

      Reggie sighed. Left mine at work. Borrowed one.

      There was pause. At seven in the morning? Another pause. Omg. A third pause. U MET A MAN!

      She debated lying. She hadn’t met a man in the sense that Jaz meant. At least...not really.

      Her gaze lifted from the phone in her hands to the slightly ajar door. On the other side, she could vaguely hear the sound of dishes clattering, and what she thought was the soft hum of music. And a vision of Brayden making breakfast while he sang along to some oldie pop song filled her head. It made her smile before the buzz of the cell phone jerked her back to the moment.

      How did u meet him? her friend wanted to know.

      The question wiped the smile from her face immediately. In spite of how attractive Brayden was, the circumstances were just the opposite. But she couldn’t very well explain any of that to Jaz.

      I didn’t meet a man. I borrowed a phone.

      From who?

      Customer at the diner. Close enough to the truth.

      Is the customer a man?

      Yes.

      Aha! And aren’t u working at lunch?

      Did I say I was working at the diner right this second?

      ...

      I’ve gotta go lie back down.

      Reggie. Seriously.

      What?

      U okay?

      Fine. Really.

      Not kidnapped by aliens and forced to send these vague messages that I’m sure are half-truths?

      Reggie smiled. Hardly.

      It was easy to picture the resigned look on Jaz’s face as the next message came through. K. My parents r manning the bouncy castle today. I’ll make sure they tell people ur alive and well.

      THX.

      Luv u.

      Likewise.

      Reggie let the phone rest