Page 12 of Junkyard Dog (Lonesome Garage #3)

I haven’t had a natural night’s sleep in two days. The meds keep pulling me under. I’m not complaining too hard. If I am awake, it’s fucking agony, especially to breathe. When I do surface, though, Rhiannon is right there, thanking me for saving her and promising to take care of me till I’m better.

My mouth won’t let me protest that I didn’t save her. When I got back to the salvage yard, Cajun was down, Rhiannon was a mess, and Abby Trask was swinging for the fences. I didn’t protect anybody. But I couldn’t stay awake long enough to explain that.

The sun shines through the open window. The sound of birds and the wind in the trees is a gentle way to wake up.

A breeze ruffles the curtain and moves the air so it’s not stagnant with the stink of sweat and bad dreams. I open my eyes to see Rhiannon curled up on the armchair that she’s dragged in from the living room.

I didn’t hear a thing. It’s heartbreakingly sweet that she is trying to keep a compromise between her promise to watch over me and my desire to sleep alone.

I don’t think I’m physically capable of attacking anyone in my current condition, but the distance between the bed and the chair, and the chair and the door would give her time to run. That’s my woman, thinking ahead.

“Hey, there. Are you awake for real this time?” Rhiannon’s soft question cuts through the last of the haze.

“If I’m not, this is the best dream I’ve ever had in my life.” It seems like the painkillers have loosened my tongue as well as my muscles. “Are you okay?” I don’t care about me. Rhiannon’s the priority.

“I’m fine, I promise?”

I remember something else. “The dogs? Something was wrong with Cajun.”

“Your cousins took him to the vet clinic in town. The vet had to do some surgery on his leg but said Cajun will be okay.”

Bishop and Deacon wouldn’t lie to me about that. They know how important my dogs are to me.

Rhiannon puts her cool hand on my forehead. “How are you feeling, JD?”

“Like my motorcycle got run off the road and then I hoofed it on foot for the last mile to take down a murderous bitch who was about to kill my girlfriend.”

For some reason, my answer has Rhiannon beaming. “I knew it would kick in if I told you often enough!”

I push until I’m sitting upright. My ribs and left shoulder protest. With the sheet pooling at my hips, I look down and see a rainbow of bruises stretching across my torso. No wonder I feel like shit. “What are you talking about?”

“You shook off a car accident and murder attempt to come and rescue me and you succeeded. You didn’t screw up.

You didn’t fail me. So cut yourself some fucking slack, Dobermann.

You saved me, and you’ll do it again next time, be it another stalker or an overambitious movie producer who wants to buy my rights or a desperate Bronco owner who needs a steering wheel for a 1974 model and knows I know where to find one. ”

There’s too much. I grab hold of the easiest thing. “You found a steering wheel?” I’d sent out some emails and put out feelers, but nobody has gotten back to me yet. I wanted to be the one to track it down for her.

“No, but you’re going to find one for me in time for Christmas this year. That is, if you decide you want to stick around for this gong show that is my life because I can’t promise it’s going to get any less demanding.”

Rhiannon is still sitting in that chair. The blanket she’s been using has slipped to the floor, revealing a rumpled set of pyjamas that should not look so sexy on anybody. I lift my comforter and pat the mattress.

She is on the bed in a shot. She carefully arranges the pillows against the barnwood headboard so she is sitting up to talk to me without actually touching me.

I grimace when I throw my arm around her shoulders and pull her close so she’s leaning on the less damaged side of my chest. The comfort is worth the pain.

“I love you, so I’m sticking around. What are we thinking?

Me moving to Washington? Or are you moving to Lonesome?

” One of us will have to sacrifice. I could probably be okay in DC.

There would be other former military people to connect with, so I’d have that support.

Although, it’ll kill me to have to give up my brothers in the Lost Souls.

They are as much family as my cousins and their future wives are. But home will be where Rhi is.

“I have no family commitments tying me there. I have to travel for the holidays anyway. And two of my best friends live here. I can write anywhere. In fact, a move might be beneficial. I’d have fewer politicians around which is always a good thing.

Plus, I’ll be surrounded by a ton of inspiration for my next set of heroes.

But you won’t be one of them. I was going to use you, but I’ve changed my mind.

You, JD, are all mine and I’m not sharing you with my readers,” she teases.

I’ve had all of fifteen minutes of spare time since Rhiannon exploded into my life, but I put it to good use.

I remember what I read about her books. I’d never heard of her before Romy and Violet came to town, but her online fans—stalkers excluded—are absolutely rabid when it comes to their favourite heroes in her books.

I have no desire for that kind of attention from anybody but her.

But that’s not the important part of what she just said.

“Are you seriously offering to move here to be with me?”

“I don’t want to be without you, JD. If you’re here, that’s where I want to be. I love you too. That’s how it works.”

I’ll need to clear out the spare room, so Rhiannon has an office to work in.

I have to find a place to store the furniture that isn’t going to fit in the house.

And talk to Romy and Bishop to find somebody to put on an addition because we’re going to need more room eventually.

“Are you absolutely sure?” After the accident, I had to do breathing exercises with cracked ribs.

That was less painful than waiting for her reply.

I should have known that drama follows Rhi, but she doesn’t create it for her own entertainment. She very carefully swings a leg over my waist, straddling me. Then she kisses me so deeply I can feel it in my soul.

When we come up for air, her words seal the deal and put my worries to rest. “Of course, I’m sure. Every good romance writer knows a happily ever after when she sees it, JD. And for me, you’re it. Forever.”

THE END