flowers had been the last straw, and she'd immediately called the police station to file a report, then updated Rayne. Within an hour a uniformed officer had arrived to take her statement and the note, cautioning her to monitor the situation carefully and call 911 right away if she suspected she was being followed. They could do nothing more at this stage, the young cop had told her apologetically, since they only had Seth's first name and description, but if she found out his last name and address she could file a no contact order.
Gee. She felt ever so much better now. If things escalated, she could always stop and ask him his last name and address before he went after her. Yep, she was gonna sleep like a baby tonight.
At Rayne's knock, she hurried over to let him in. “Hi,” she said, almost weak with relief at having someone else there with her. Constantly staying alert took a lot of energy.
“Hey.” He assessed her with one long look. “How are you holding up?”
“I feel like I'm in one of those cheesy teen suspense movies.”
He laughed. “But in those movies, the characters never had an ERT officer with a double black belt to train them in self-defense.”
“There is that. Plus you look like you could bench-press a small car.”
“What, you mean like a Mini Cooper?”
“Oh, at least. And speaking of cars— any word on the SUV that hit the left fielder?”
“Yeah.” His grim expression and tone made her heart sink. “Stolen, and witnesses described the driver as a male, either blond or light brown hair. Add the note, and it's pretty hard to deny our theory.” He studied her.
“The way my luck's been going lately?” she scoffed. “Oh, please.” She took a deep breath and raised her chin. “Okay, let's get this over with. Do your worst.”
He tilted his head. “You sure you're feeling up to this? Your head isn't hurting you?”
“Just don't beat me up any more than I already am, okay? A girl can only take so much.”
He shrugged out of his jacket, never breaking eye contact. “You'd be surprised how gentle I can be.”
Would she? Try her. She fought not to smile, shook her head in exasperation. He flirted like that with all the ladies, so she knew he meant nothing by it. “You're bad . Stop trying to distract me.” Now, if only her insides would stop melting at the idea of wrestling with him in mock combat, she was good to go.
He went around the room, moving furniture out of the way. Christa's eyebrows hiked up toward her hairline. “You planning on throwing me around?”
“Scared?” he taunted, a wicked gleam in his hazel eyes.
She snorted at him towering above her five-foot-eight frame. “Why should I be? You're only what, two-fifty and nine feet tall?”
“Two-thirty and six-three, you mean.” He lifted onto his toes and stretched his arms. “C'mon, this won't hurt, I promise.”
No easy way to back out now and besides, she was no quitter. Lifting her chin, she strode toward him. At least she'd thought to put on perfume, so she smelled nice.
“Tell me what you know about self-defense,” he prompted, bringing her to stand in front of him.
“Nothing, except that if I have to end up fighting, I don't want to fight like a girl.”
His eyes twinkled. “The first thing I want to stress is you're not trying to beat up the guy, you're only trying to stun him long enough so you can run away and yell for help.”
She could do that. “I'm a good yeller, and I'm fast.”
“Okay, come here.” He took hold of her fingers and moved so that he was behind her.
His arms slid around her waist and the faint lemony scent of him made every one of her muscles rigid. She hoped nothing would jiggle at an inopportune moment.
First he showed her how to make a proper fist, shifting her thumb safely out of the way. “This is what you do if someone grabs you from behind. Use either your fist or your elbow if you can, and smash it into his face or throat. If he grabs your arms, then
Gee. She felt ever so much better now. If things escalated, she could always stop and ask him his last name and address before he went after her. Yep, she was gonna sleep like a baby tonight.
At Rayne's knock, she hurried over to let him in. “Hi,” she said, almost weak with relief at having someone else there with her. Constantly staying alert took a lot of energy.
“Hey.” He assessed her with one long look. “How are you holding up?”
“I feel like I'm in one of those cheesy teen suspense movies.”
He laughed. “But in those movies, the characters never had an ERT officer with a double black belt to train them in self-defense.”
“There is that. Plus you look like you could bench-press a small car.”
“What, you mean like a Mini Cooper?”
“Oh, at least. And speaking of cars— any word on the SUV that hit the left fielder?”
“Yeah.” His grim expression and tone made her heart sink. “Stolen, and witnesses described the driver as a male, either blond or light brown hair. Add the note, and it's pretty hard to deny our theory.” He studied her.
“The way my luck's been going lately?” she scoffed. “Oh, please.” She took a deep breath and raised her chin. “Okay, let's get this over with. Do your worst.”
He tilted his head. “You sure you're feeling up to this? Your head isn't hurting you?”
“Just don't beat me up any more than I already am, okay? A girl can only take so much.”
He shrugged out of his jacket, never breaking eye contact. “You'd be surprised how gentle I can be.”
Would she? Try her. She fought not to smile, shook her head in exasperation. He flirted like that with all the ladies, so she knew he meant nothing by it. “You're bad . Stop trying to distract me.” Now, if only her insides would stop melting at the idea of wrestling with him in mock combat, she was good to go.
He went around the room, moving furniture out of the way. Christa's eyebrows hiked up toward her hairline. “You planning on throwing me around?”
“Scared?” he taunted, a wicked gleam in his hazel eyes.
She snorted at him towering above her five-foot-eight frame. “Why should I be? You're only what, two-fifty and nine feet tall?”
“Two-thirty and six-three, you mean.” He lifted onto his toes and stretched his arms. “C'mon, this won't hurt, I promise.”
No easy way to back out now and besides, she was no quitter. Lifting her chin, she strode toward him. At least she'd thought to put on perfume, so she smelled nice.
“Tell me what you know about self-defense,” he prompted, bringing her to stand in front of him.
“Nothing, except that if I have to end up fighting, I don't want to fight like a girl.”
His eyes twinkled. “The first thing I want to stress is you're not trying to beat up the guy, you're only trying to stun him long enough so you can run away and yell for help.”
She could do that. “I'm a good yeller, and I'm fast.”
“Okay, come here.” He took hold of her fingers and moved so that he was behind her.
His arms slid around her waist and the faint lemony scent of him made every one of her muscles rigid. She hoped nothing would jiggle at an inopportune moment.
First he showed her how to make a proper fist, shifting her thumb safely out of the way. “This is what you do if someone grabs you from behind. Use either your fist or your elbow if you can, and smash it into his face or throat. If he grabs your arms, then
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