Then she blinked to clear her vision, because either she was really really buzzed or she’d never seen another human move so fast. In a blur of black, Darius leaped off the stage and landed at her side with a thump. His cowboy hat went flying off his head and she caught a glimpse of thick dark hair.
Somehow, within moments, he’d settled his arms around her to keep her from falling.
A warm male wall of pure muscle was holding her up. Her entire body relaxed with a sigh. All her troubles melted away and she leaned against him. He felt like heaven, like every fantasy male she’d dreamed about before she’d lost all her illusions about men.
In her distraction, her grip on the bass loosened. It tilted to the side, ready to slide to the floor. The man with his arms around her didn’t budge; clearly he was more concerned about her than the bass.
Which was nice, but that bass had given her a lot of pleasure in the hours she’d been dancing here. No way was she going to allow it to crash. She pushed away from Darius’ chest so she could reestablish her hold on the instrument. At the same moment, another bar patron—probably trying to help—grabbed the neck of the bass, which had the effect of swinging it up toward Kate right when she was reaching for it.
Bonk.
The edge of the bass struck her on the side of her forehead. Stars gathered at the edge of her vision. This time the pain was real. This was not at all the good kind of trouble. Not the One More Stupid Thing she’d imagined. She let out a weird sound that she knew she was going to regret. And then she slumped into Darius’ arms as everything turned off like a computer booting down.
Chapter Five
Jesus. With his arms full of unconscious woman and everyone rushing to help, Darius could only watch as the Moose is Loose degenerated into pure chaos.
The other band members jumped down from the stage. A few drunk patrons seized the opportunity to throw punches at each other. A security guy yelled and waved his arms for everyone to be quiet. He had no idea what had happened to his bass. Someone must have saved it because it was nowhere to be seen.
Then a voice from the mic cut through the noise. “Cut it out, everyone.”
Maya Badger, in her gold top, glared at the crowd from the stage. “That’s enough,” she ordered. “Everyone get a grip and calm the F down.” She caught Darius’ eye and gestured with her head. He interpreted the move as “get Kate out of here.”
“We have an injured party, so I need everyone to make way.” The crowd had already quieted down, so she didn’t even have to raise her voice anymore. Damn, she was good. Even in her party outfit, she knew how to make people do what she said. The Lost Harbor Police Department was in good hands.
He nodded his thanks and scooped Kate into his arms. She was tall and not exactly light, but her weight felt good to him. Jessica appeared at his side. “Is she okay?”
“I’ll check her out as soon as I get her out of here.”
“Is it okay if I stay with Maya? I know she’s got this, but she might need some support.”
“Yeah yeah, don’t worry, I’ll take care of Kate. I’ll text Maya after I’ve assessed her.”
He had EMT training, of course. The majority of the calls they got at the Lost Harbor firehouse were medical. He felt very comfortable with his ability to handle her injury. If she needed more than he could offer, he knew exactly where every urgent care, ER, firehouse and police station in the entire Misty Bay peninsula were located.
Everyone gave him space to carry Kate toward the exit. For privacy’s sake, he didn’t want to examine her in the middle of the Moose is Loose, or even in the kitchen. And he had that cabin, after all. It would double as an exam room.
He kicked open the side exit and turned at an angle to maneuver her out the door. It was actually dark outside, which meant it must be very late. This time of year, the sky stayed light until after ten. Even now, a halo of sunset lingered near the horizon, arching seamlessly into an achingly deep midnight blue scattered with stars.
The pure air felt clean and brisk after the steamy heat of the bar. He drew in deep breaths as sweat gathered on his forehead from the effort of carrying her.
Opening the door of the cabin was another trick. Why had he locked the damn thing? He didn’t have anything valuable in it. The only important thing he’d brought was his bass, and who knew where that was at this point.
The cabin was one of those prefab “log cabins” put together from a kit. A simple A-frame with room for a bed, a chair and a nightstand. A minuscule bathroom with only a toilet and sink. Perfect for someone who needed a place to crash after a night partying at the Moose is Loose.
But it was clean and quiet and he had no qualms about setting Kate down on the bed so he could examine her wound.
Gently, he lifted her hair off her face. The thick glossy locks flowed across his fingers in silky waves. With her eyes closed, he missed her vivid presence and bright smile. But she was still a knockout.
So to speak.
A bruise was already developing on her forehead. Ice. He needed ice.
He squatted next to his bag, where he always kept a first-aid kit. He found the quick-freeze ice pack and snapped it to activate the cooling crystals.
After shielding her skin with a washcloth from the bathroom, he positioned the ice pack over the bruise.
The cold of the ice pack woke her up. Her eyebrows drew together and she groaned, then her eyes fluttered open. He hadn’t been close enough to really see her eyes before. They were the deep, near-black of a midnight sky. She stared at him for a long moment, a perplexed line forming between her eyebrows.
“The hot bassist.”
He gave a snort of laughter. “It’s Darius. How’s your head feeling?”
Her hand went to her temple. “Hurts.”
“Yeah, I’m not surprised. There’s a bruise forming. Mind if I do a little test?”
“For what?”
“I want to make sure you don’t have a concussion. You got bonked pretty hard.”
“Really? I don’t remember what happened.” The line between her eyebrows deepened. “I remember dancing. I came up to talk to you, didn’t I?”
He found a penlight in his bag and held it in front of her face.
“Can you follow the light?”
Her eyes tracked it just fine. Her pupils weren’t dilated, though her eyes were such a deep color he couldn’t be entirely sure.
“Let’s try some basic questions. Can you tell me your name?”
“Is that a pickup line? Because you already have me alone on a bed.”
He ignored that. She was in no shape for a hookup, though she didn’t seem to realize that.
“Do you know what year it is?”
With an irritated expression, she pushed his hand away and tried to sit up. “I’m fine. This is ridiculous. I need to get back to…” She fell quiet with a frown.
“Which brings me to my next question. Where do you live?”
“You’re very nosy.” A flush rose on her cheeks. “Where do you live? Is this your house? Did we go home together?” She glanced around the cabin and a look of horror came over her face. “You live here?”
“No, I don’t live here. It’s a fishing cabin. A rental. Listen, I’m starting to think you might have a bit of concussion. Your memory seems a little sketchy.”
“I remember that we were supposed to be flirting, not playing doctor.” She shrugged. “I guess that works too.”
This woman was TROUBLE with a capital everything.
He handed her the ice pack. “Why don’t you hold that against your head. It’ll help that bruise.”
She sniffed and took the pack from him. “I didn’t know that bassists carried ice packs.”
He laughed a little, admiring her spunk. She might be a little fuzzy, but she wasn’t intimidated by him. Which was interesting, because he knew that many people found his appearance, and especially his size, intimidating. Then again, some women found that to be his best quality.
“I’m not just a bassist. I’m a firefighter too. I’m mostly a firefighter, as a matter of fact. I just play bass on the side.”
“Oh. You’re really good.”
“You should see me put out a fire,” he said dryly.
“Kinda hoping I don’t get that opportunity,” she answered, echoing his tone.
“Right. Good point. So how do you feel other than the bruise? Anything else? It was a little crazy there for a minute.”
That blank expression came across her face again. “I just don’t remember.” He caught the beginnings of panic in her eyes.
“Never mind that. Focus on right now. Any other pain anywhere? Can you do a full-body scan of yourself?”
He waited patiently while she did so. He noticed that she had a few freckles on her nose and that her hands looked strong and capable and had a little dirt under the fingernails.
In the bar she’d said, “Kate Robinson to the rescue!” The name had rung a bell, but he hadn’t pursued it. Robinson. Wasn’t that the name of the crazy lawyer trying to evict him? Weird coincidence.
“What kind of work do you do?” he asked, just in case.
“What?” She blinked a few times, her long, dark lashes fanning up and down. “Why talk about work? Can’t we just flirt instead?”
He bit back a smile. “How’s that body scan going?”
“That kinda sounds like flirting, but not really.”
He adjusted the ice pack on her forehead. “Sorry, but we’re going to have to put the flirting on hold, Kate.”
She sighed deeply. “Of course we are. Nothing goes my way anymore. There’s a good chance I’m cursed.”
“Nah. If you were cursed, a firefighter wouldn’t have been right there when you got hurt.”
Her dark eyes scanned him. “Guess I got lucky. Without getting lucky.” She pulled the ice pack away from her face. “How does it look?”
“Bruised. But better.”
She yawned and turned her head gingerly from side to side. “I should get going.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” he told her firmly. He laid a hand on her shoulder, pressing her back down. She didn’t object, probably because she wasn’t stupid. “You’re staying here for the night and in the morning we’ll figure out what happens next.”
She nestled her head on the pillow and adjusted the ice pack. “Are you staying here too?”
“Yeah. I don’t feel right leaving you here when you can’t even say where you live.”
“It’s not a very easy question, that’s all. It’s complicated. There’s where I used to live, where I live now, and where I want to live.” Her eyelids drifted down.
He took out his phone and shot Maya a quick text.
Kate is conscious. No concussion, but a little confused.
Can she stay there for the night?
Of course.
I’ll leave her purse and jacket with the owner.
Ten-four.
“Okay, you’re all set,” he began in a cheerful tone, before he saw that Kate’s eyes were closed. He modulated his voice. “I’ll be in the chair if you need anything. See you in the morning.”
“Thanks, bassist.”
“Darius,” he reminded her.
“Hot Darius,” she murmured.
Okay then. He supposed he could live with that.
He watched as her eyes closed completely and sleep relaxed her face. Her hand fell away from her head and the ice pack rolled across the pillow.
Gently, he removed it and stowed it back in his bag.
He rose to his feet and stretched his arms over his head. The cabin ceiling was so low that his fingertips brushed against it. His hands were sore from his stint on the bass. He didn’t get enough practice these days. It was probably a good thing that this night hadn’t ended the way he’d originally hoped it would.
He glanced again at the sleeping woman on the bed. She’d rolled over onto her side and was now lightly snoring.
He settled into the chair, which was designed for someone a foot shorter than him. Ah what the hell. He’d slept in more uncomfortable quarters than this.
He took out his phone and texted Maya one more time.
Make it back to Lost Harbor yet?
Why? My own father doesn’t ask me that.
Really? Harris asks me that.
He and Harris Badger jammed together sometimes back in Lost Harbor. When things went late, Harris had a habit of checking in on his drive home.
He probably likes you better because you play. I’m a big-ass disappointment ever since I dropped piano.
Bullshit. I know how he talks about you. He ain’t disappointed, Chief.
Whatever. I’m home. Wouldn’t be texting if I wasn’t.
He chuckled. Maya was a very law-abiding police chief, which apparently was unusual for faraway spots like Lost Harbor, Alaska. Most law enforcement officers had to be pretty flexible in dealing with their independent, quirky populations.
Is Kate a lawyer?
He had to know if Kate was Catriona Robinson, Attorney at Law, before this thing—whatever it was—went any further.
Good night.
Is that a yes?
That’s a “keep me out of this.”
Great. Was it possible that he’d just rescued the woman trying to evict him—twice? Worse, that he’d developed an insane attraction to her?
Damn his luck. Kate had it all wrong. She wasn’t the one who was cursed—he was.
He tossed his phone aside and stretched out his legs, which reached almost to the opposite wall.
Amazingly, in about fifteen seconds, he was asleep.
Chapter Six
There was a man in her room.
Kate almost screamed, but she remembered just in time that alerting the intruder she was awake might be a bad idea.
So she lay still, heart racing. A few terrifying moments from the past couple of months rushed back to her. Hearing someone at her window. Footsteps following her through her parking garage. The sound of a letter dropping through her mail slot.
Where the hell was she? This didn’t look like her LA condo. Or her room at Emma’s farmhouse. And yet she was tucked into a cozy bed and someone had obviously been taking care of her. A box of tissues lay next to her head.
Cautiously, she lifted her head just a bit. Would the man notice? Would he come after her? He was slouched in the chair, arms folded across his chest, long legs stretched out to infinity. His thick hair was mussed as if he’d been in bed, his face shadowed.
He was a big man, huge in that inadequate chair.
Big man…holy shit, it was the hottie bassist! She searched her mind for his name. Darius. The one who’d rescued her from the mud.
How had she ended up here with Darius, and why weren’t they both in the bed? Was this the least successful one-night stand ever?
Her head throbbed. Hangover. Oh, right. In bits and pieces, it all came back to her. She’d been doing shots with Maya and Jess, and then they’d danced, and then she’d gone up to the stage to flirt with Darius and then…she wasn’t entirely sure what had happened after that. She had a vague memory of getting hit on the head, but the details were still foggy.
Darius must have brought her back here and treated her. She remembered concerned gray eyes behind a pen light. Something cold. Trying to flirt and getting shot down.
Ugh. She had to get home. As long as blood wasn’t pouring out of a gash, there was no reason she couldn’t drive back to Lost Harbor.
Carefully, she pushed the blanket off her, realizing that she still had all her clothes on. That One Stupid Thing she’d been dreaming about—yeah, that obviously hadn’t happened.
Just as well, she really couldn’t afford to do anything stupid. She’d maxed out on stupid when she’d sacrificed her career for her deadbeat dad.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and gave herself a minute to adjust. Her head was pounding, the pain centralized around a spot above her temple. She touched i
t and found the raised surface of a bruise.
Add one more disaster to the heap of crap that was her life.
She tiptoed across the room. He didn’t budge. Should she wake him up and thank him? Or at least get his contact info? There wasn’t really any point. She’d regressed to Naughty Kate days and completely embarrassed herself. At this point, she was better off heading home and putting this entire mortifying incident in the rearview mirror.
Seeing no sign of her purse or jacket, she gave Darius one last look, committing his hotness to memory, and slid out the door.
Dawn was already turning the wispy clouds a shy pink, like a flock of blushing maidens. The cabin was one of several arrayed behind the Moose is Loose Saloon. She saw her Saab parked where she’d left it, along with a few other vehicles.
The roadhouse had a rough-and-ready look, like an old drunk sleeping off a late night. A nearly life-sized carved moose stood watch by the door, perched on its wooden hind legs. Giving it a wide berth, she pushed open the door. Unlocked, which wasn’t surprising around here.
The place was empty and still held the detritus of last night—empty bottles, dirty floor, even a couple of customers passed out on the tables. The stage was empty of everything except Darius’ standup bass, which lay flat on its back, as if it too had drunk a little too much.
“Hello?” she called, in case anyone was around.
No one answered, so she lifted the pass-through and stepped behind the bar. Jackpot—her bag and jacket were crammed onto a shelf against the wall, along with a random assortment of other lost objects—including a black cowboy hat.
That brought back a flash of lust. Darius in that black cowboy hat, playing his heart out onstage. Flashing that wild grin at her.
She still didn’t know if he lived in Oregon. Fingers crossed, he did and would be back there soon.
Her head throbbed and she decided to skip any more trips down memory lane. She extracted her jacket and put it on, then did a quick search of her bag and found nothing missing. Most importantly, her car keys were still there.
Okay then. Things were looking up.
Outside, the fresh dawn air kissed her face, reviving her even further. She slid into her Saab and let out a deep breath of relief.
Naughty All Night (Lost Harbor, Alaska Book 5) Page 4
