Killer Season. Lara Lacombe

me feel better.”

      “Sounds fair to me,” he said, placing his hand on the small of her back to urge her forward again. He wanted to get her out of the store and away from her attacker as soon as possible. He could just make out the faint wail of a siren, which meant the ambulance was on its way. Fiona didn’t need to be here when the paramedics loaded Joey onto the stretcher and carted him off to the hospital.

      Besides, they needed to take her statement and the sooner the better. He glanced up while they walked, heartened to see surveillance cameras mounted in the ceiling and pointed at the register. Maybe they’d get lucky and there would be footage of the attack—he knew from experience not every security camera was functional.

      “Do those work?” He nodded at one of the cameras as they neared the door.

      Fiona glanced up, following his gaze. “I think so,” she said, frowning slightly. “I’ve never seen the tapes, but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

      They made it to the door before Fiona stopped, a stricken look on her face.

      “I need to call Ben,” she said, sounding miserable.

      Nate felt a pang of jealousy at the mention of another man’s name. Was Ben her husband? Her boyfriend? Why did she sound unhappy at the thought of talking to him? More important, why did it matter so much to him?

      “Who’s Ben?” His voice was deceptively neutral, but he held his breath while he waited for her to respond.

      “The store owner,” she replied, triggering a wave of relief that had his breath gusting out on a sigh. Fiona shot him a questioning look, which he ignored. He couldn’t explain his reaction to himself, much less to her.

      “I can call him,” he offered. “Do you have his number?”

      Fiona looked up at him, relief and gratitude shining in her big brown eyes. “You’d do that for me?”

      If she kept looking at him like that, he’d do just about anything for her. “It’s probably better if I call him. Part of the job and all.”

      She glanced down, and he sensed a shift in her mood. “Everything okay?”

      Fiona nodded, refusing to meet his gaze. “It’s just...” She trailed off, swallowed hard, then spoke again. “You saved my life tonight,” she said, her voice wobbly. “You kept that man from hurting me.”

      Nate shifted, her praise making him uncomfortable. “I was happy to do it. That’s my job. Besides, the fact that you stayed calm kept the situation from escalating out of control.”

      She shook her head. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

      He frowned, not following her thoughts. “Get what?”

      She looked up at him then, her eyes suspiciously bright. “I will never forget you or what you did for me tonight. But I suspect it’s just the latest in a long line of amazing things you’ve done, and you’re so quick to dismiss it as your job. Not many people would have stepped forward like that, but you did. You’re a hero.”

      Nate felt his face heat and knew he must be as red as the sirens flashing on the ambulance pulling into the parking lot. “I’m not a hero,” he said, reaching up to tug on his collar. When did it get so warm in here?

      The corner of Fiona’s mouth quirked up while she studied him. “The fact that you’re denying it just makes you even more heroic.”

      Now it was Nate’s turn to look away. He didn’t know how to explain to her that he’d simply reacted. She was in danger, and he’d stepped forward, wanting only to protect her. That wasn’t heroic—it was instinctive, pure and simple. Heroes recognized danger and stepped forward in spite of it. He hadn’t stopped to consider the danger, but had rushed right in, his only thought keeping Fiona safe. If anything, his lack of discipline could have easily resulted in a tragedy tonight, something he was sure his captain would point out after learning of the situation.

      The EMTs entered the store, and he heard the officers tell them where Joey had been shot and how long he’d been out. Fiona heard them, too, her expression turning distant as she listened to the conversation.

      “Do you think he’ll be okay?”

      Considering the man had held a gun to Fiona’s head, Nate really couldn’t care less if he recovered. Knowing Fiona wouldn’t appreciate that response, he merely nodded. “Most likely,” he said. “He got hit in the shoulder, and there wasn’t enough blood for the bullet to have clipped an artery. He’ll be just fine once they get him patched up, and then he’ll get to enjoy all the comforts of the city’s fine facilities.”

      She frowned, clearly not buying his casual reply. “He passed out,” she said, raising a brow as if daring him to deny that fact.

      Nate shrugged. “It hurts like hell to get shot. Maybe the pain got to him.”

      Her face softened when she looked up at him. “You’ve been shot before?”

      He inwardly winced, cursing himself for letting that slip. She was looking at him with stars in her eyes again, and he couldn’t bear to mislead her.

      “It was my fault,” he told her, needing her to understand. “I was a rookie, and I got caught up in the excitement of making a bust. I didn’t wait for backup, and I walked right into it.”

      Her mouth formed a perfect O while she raised her eyebrows. “Where were you shot?”

      “In a run-down crack house off Westheimer, over in the projects.”

      She gave him a mock glare, her lips twitching as she fought off a smile. “I meant where were you physically injured.” She ran her gaze over his body, searching for a clue. His skin tingled in response, and he found he liked having her eyes on him.

      “Grazed my leg,” he said, patting his left thigh. He’d been exceedingly lucky—the perp had been high, which had affected his aim.

      “Wow,” she murmured. “Does it still bother you?”

      He shook his head. “Not really. It aches a bit, now and then, but only when there’s bad weather coming.”

      Fiona gave him a mischievous smile. “You sound like a grandpa.”

      Nate narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips in an exaggerated sneer. “Just stay off my lawn,” he said, raising his fist in a weak shake.

      Fiona laughed at that, her features relaxing for a moment. Warmth spread through his chest at the sight, and he grinned back at her. She deserved a laugh after her night, and he was absurdly proud to have been the one to lighten her mood.

      The clicking sound of gurney wheels locking into place told him the EMTs had loaded Joey and were getting ready to leave. Fiona heard it, too, the smile fading from her face while she listened to the men roll out the door.

      “So what happens now?”

      Steve chose that moment to join them, and he spoke before Nate could reply. “We need to take you down to the station and get your statement.” He held up his arm, indicating Fiona should precede him out the door. “If you’ll come with me, please.”

      She frowned slightly. “What about the store owner? I need to call him and let him know what happened here.”

      Steve pulled out his notepad and passed it to Fiona. “My partner is staying here to keep the scene secure. You can give him the owner’s number and he’ll call.”

      She nodded while she scribbled down a number, but Nate could see the wrinkle between her brows and knew she still wasn’t fully comfortable.

      “Why don’t I come along?” he offered. Fiona’s expression lightened, and her apparent relief at his continued company made him want to puff out his chest.

      Trying to hide his satisfaction, Nate turned to Steve. “If your partner has things under control