“No. No imposition,” she said. “Let’s go see what we have left over in the back.”

Five minutes later, she’d sold him a small chocolate sandwich cake, and she walked him back through the shop to the front door.

“My mom’s going to take one bite of this and start harassing me to bring you home,” he teased.

Bella smiled. There was no doubt she enjoyed his company, but there was something pretty vital missing-the zing.

She’d never really pondered the mystery of the elusive zing until Jacob. Because, holy shit, she and Jacob had zing. They had real, gut-tightening, goose-bump-inducing, brain-cell-destroying zing, and they had it in spades. She hated to compare men, but she could honestly say that not a single one of the other seven guys she’d dated during the Eight Dates in Eight Days had come even close.

And while she was being so honest, she might as well admit that no man in recent history had come close.

Maybe no man ever.

And wasn’t that a terrifying thought all on its own?

“Thanks again, Bella,” Tyler said, and stepped outside the door. She followed, wanting to see if the early evening had cooled down any.

A loud shot sounded, echoing in the still air, and the glass window just behind them shattered. Before Bella could even begin to process any of it, Tyler grabbed her and knocked her to the ground.

It seemed like forever, but it was probably only seconds before the glass finished raining down over them. Finally, Tyler lifted his head. “Bella?” When he sat up, his glasses were crooked on his nose. “You okay?”

Her knees and palms were skinned, but that was nothing compared to being dead. “Yes. What the hell was that?”

“Something exploded your window.”

“Something?”

“I think someone shot at us.” Tyler stood, then pulled her to her feet, as well, running his gaze down her, then down himself. “No injuries. No injuries is good. It means we can freak out now.”

Bella stared up at the blown-out window of the shop. “A gunshot?” Oh, God. Not again. “Are you sure?”

There were a few people gathering on the sidewalk, murmuring amongst themselves. “I phoned 911,” one of them called out. It was Cindy, who worked at the art gallery across the street and bought a croissant from Bella every morning without fail. She was still holding her cell phone. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a real gunshot before.”

Bella was still staring at the hollow window, a matching hollowness sinking in her gut.

Looking shell-shocked, Tyler sank to the curb. Just as shell-shocked, she sat next to him. “Can I borrow your phone?” she asked, and when he handed it over, she punched in Jacob’s cell number. It went straight to voice mail. “Hi,” she said. “Nobody looked at me cross-eyed, but I did get shot at. That probably counts as something you’d like to know, right?” She drew in air. “I’m okay,” she said, and disconnected.

He would come. And that brought a now-familiar tingling that yesterday had started and ended in all her erogenous zones, but today…today nicked at a certain vital organ that clenched hard at the mere thought of him.

She remembered how he’d looked this morning sprawled on his back across her bed, the sheets and blankets on the floor, revealing him in full glory.

And then there’d been how he’d looked coming into the shop all rumpled and sleep deprived, a two-day-old shadow darkening his strong jaw, his eyes narrowed and probably already filled with thoughts of his cases, his shirt wrinkled, that raspberry stain over one pec.

Armed and dangerous.

And badass gorgeous.

She might have dwelled on that, but there was the whole just-been-shot-at thing, and the police arrived.

Then she heard the motorcycle. Jacob came off it at a dead run, slowing only when he saw her standing in the midst of the organized mayhem, clearly fine.

Or as fine as she could be.

Normally in a stressful situation-and she considered this pretty damn stressful-she’d already be out the door. Gone. Moved on. After all, she’d grown up in chaos, and it’d never suited.

But she didn’t have the urge to run right now. It was the place, she thought. Santa Rey seemed to be making a home for itself in her heart. And so were its people.

One in particular.

Jacob came toe to toe with her. He removed his sunglasses and ran his gaze over her carefully, thoroughly, noting the scrapes on her hands and knees.

“We’re okay,” she said. “Tyler pushed me down. Thank you for that, by the way,” she told him.

Jacob flicked a glance in Tyler’s direction and nodded, then surveyed the damage around them with one sweep of his focused, sharp eyes before returning his attention to her. He pulled her to her feet, picked a piece of glass from her hair and shook his head, then slipped an arm around her, tugging her close enough to press his mouth to her jaw. “Calls like the one I just got suck.”

“I’m sorry.”

He murmured something too soft to catch and wrapped both arms around her, holding tightly now, as if he needed it as much as she. Snuggling in, she absorbed his warmth and strength. After a long moment, she said, “I’m really okay. You can let me go now.”

“I’ll let you go when I’m good and ready.” But he sighed and pulled back, cupping the nape of her neck to look into her eyes. Whatever he saw must have reassured him because he nodded. “You good to talk to Ethan?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Because he’s right behind you, giving me the evil eye, waiting for me to let go of you so he can ask you some questions. Also, just so you can brace yourself, we’re going to put a man on the shop.”

“A man?”

“A squad car. We’re talking murder, and now attempted murder.”

“This is getting old.”

Jacob looked deep into her eyes, his own dark and troubled. “There’s always Siberia.”

“You want me to leave?”

“I want you safe.”

So did she. But she’d never felt as safe anywhere as she did right there, in his arms.

8

TWO HOURS LATER IT was finally just Bella again.

Well, just Bella and the policeman assigned to watch over the building. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was around somewhere, and that was just fine with her.

Feeling as calm as she possibly could, she stood in the shop kitchen and let out a deep breath, nearly screaming when she turned in a circle and came face-to-face with Jacob.

Yeah, apparently her nerves were shot.

He’d watched as the EMTs had bandaged up her knees, then helped board up the front window before leaving for a task-force meeting with Ethan, but apparently he was back, looking his usual big and bad and edgy.

She did the first thing that came to mind. She walked right into his arms.

They closed around her, warm and taut with muscle, tightening on her, surrounding her with his virility, the scent of him. The police had questioned her, Tyler and then Willow, who’d shown up when she’d heard. Trevor, too. The shooting might have been random and unconnected to the other shootings, but until the ballistics came through, no one would know for sure.

Tyler had left, completely unnerved. Probably he wouldn’t be a returning customer, Bella thought with a sigh.

“You okay?” Jacob asked.

She’d had to ask herself that several times now, and she wasn’t used to not being sure. She was always okay, it was her M.O. And if she wasn’t, well, then, there was always someplace new. “Aren’t you getting tired of having to ask me that?”

Silent, he stroked a big hand up and down her back.

“For two people who aren’t involved,” she murmured, “we sure are seeing a lot of each other.”

She felt him smile against her hair, and pulled back to look into his eyes. “I’ve always felt so safe here,” she said. “It’s why I stayed. I never thought of it before, but I like feeling safe. But now someone’s shooting at me. I know we joke about Siberia, but holy shit, am I really going to have to go?”

“Would you?”

When she thought about leaving, she felt a clutch in her gut. “No.”

He nodded, clearly already guessing as much. “We’re going to figure it out.”

“We? You mean, the police?”

He made a vague response deep in his throat and pulled her out of the kitchen’s back door, carefully locking up.

Then he led her upstairs toward her apartment.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” she said to his broad back. “But fair warning, it’s going to take an act of Congress and possibly hypnosis to get me in the right frame of mind for sex.”

He glanced back at her, his mouth slightly curved. “I’ll keep that in mind, but that’s not what we’re doing. I want you to pack an overnight bag.”

“Excuse me?”

His hand tightened on hers when she tried to pull free. “You’re not staying here tonight, Bella. Maybe not tomorrow night, either. Not until we know what the hell is going on and why you nearly took a hit today.”

“Jacob-”

“This is nonnegotiable, Bella. We have a man here but for tonight at least, you’re gone.”

She looked into his eyes, fierce and protective and utterly stubborn.

“I’m not saying you have to stay with me,” he said, bringing their joined hands to his mouth so that when he spoke, his lips brushed against her fingers. “I’m not trying to exert power or authority over you, just common sense. You can stay in a hotel, you can stay with a friend or you can stay with me. I don’t care, but you’re not staying here alone. Please,” he said very softly when she opened her mouth.

She had a feeling he wasn’t a man to say please very often. Touched, she nodded her head, and turned to go into her place.

He stopped her and moved inside first, once again thoroughly checking it out, giving her the go-ahead when he deemed it safe.