Read Online Fiancee for Hire by Tawna Fenske - Free Book Online Page B

up.”
    “For me or the car?”
    The man cackled, and Kelli felt her skin crawl. Where was her purse? She’d tossed it in the backseat when Mac picked her up at the clinic. Maybe she could pretend she needed a tissue. Maybe if she just reached back—
    “Fuck,” the man snarled as a fruit truck careened into the road ahead of them. He jammed his foot on the brake, and Kelli threw her hands on the dashboard, wondering if she should buckle up or flip the locks and make a run for it somehow. They were still moving fast, maybe thirty miles an hour. If she could just get the door unlocked—
    Thunk!
    Something red splattered across the windshield, and she screamed.
    It took her three seconds to realize she was screaming at a tomato.
    Thunk!
    Another tomato, and another, followed by an oblong zucchini and something that might have been a persimmon.
    “What the hell?” the carjacker yelled, swerving to avoid a hail of flying fruit. He jammed the brake harder, slowing the car to a crawl. Now was Kelli’s chance to make a run for it. She grabbed the door handle and—
    Smash!
    She screamed as more glass shattered, the windshield this time. She threw her arm up to shield her face, conscious of the glass pelting her, the car shrieking to a halt, the echo of a voice she’d know anywhere.
    “Hands in the air right now, or I’ll blow your motherfucking head off.”
    Kelli dropped her arm and blinked, taking in the rush of air through the windshield, the pile of glass on the dashboard, the reek of cantaloupe in her lap, and the sight of her fake fiancé crouched on the hood of the car.
    “Mac!” she cried, registering the pistol gripped in one hand, the honeydew melon in the other.
    Mac kept his gun trained on the driver, but stole a glance at Kelli, his eyes performing a hasty scan of her body. “Are you hurt?”
    “No.”
    “Good.” He set the melon on the hood of the car, but the gun didn’t waver. “I might let this sonofabitch live and call the cops.”
    Mac barked something into a radio on his collar. Before Kelli could ask what he was doing, Hank’s car screeched to a halt behind them, blocking any chance the carjacker might have had to make a getaway. Hank jumped out of the car and marched to Mac’s side. Mac jerked his chin at the driver, who was still frozen in place with his hands in the air and a dumbfounded expression on his face. “Find out who this dickhead is,” Mac ordered. “Common car thief, or someone we should give a shit about. Then pay Pablo over there for the use of his truck, driving skills, and fresh produce.”
    Hank nodded and jerked the car door open. Bright metal flashed in his hand, and Kelli realized he’d drawn his gun. She watched as he hauled the carjacker to his feet and shoved him toward the fruit truck. The two men disappeared around the vehicle and out of sight.
    Kelli looked at Mac and swallowed. “How did you—”
    “Are you sure you’re okay?” Mac asked, jumping off the hood of the car and swinging himself into the driver’s seat so fast Kelli barely saw him move. Still holding the gun, he began to pat her down, inspecting for injuries. She gasped as his hands moved along her rib cage.
    “That hurt?”
    “No. Just ticklish.” She shivered as his palms lingered there beneath her breasts.
    “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to smash the windshield. I just needed to get the sonofabitch to stop. Does this hurt here?”
    She opened her mouth to pelt him with questions— How did you catch us? Who was that man? Where the hell did you learn to throw fruit like that? —but none of it mattered right then.
    “You saved me,” she gasped, her mouth finally discovering a way to form the words that had been bouncing on the edge of her brain. “You saved my life.”
    Mac nodded once, then dropped his hands. His expression was stony, and his jaw clenched and unclenched in the glitter of sunlight through the missing windshield.
    “That’s my job,” he said. “That’s part of