Love on the Line (Love Beyond Danger Book 3)

by Diane Holiday

  The back of my throat ached, burned. Swallowing made the burn worse. Too much fear, too much tequila, too much political debate. All of it was just too much.

  I jerked up, screamed, and tossed the blanket off my face.

  The two guys yelped, one in a wail higher than mine had been and turned to face me in the back. I threw the blanket in their general direction and scrambled out of the back door, still screaming.

  I don’t know how long I ran before firm fingers grabbed my shoulders. I slammed into a body. A hard male body. My fists swung and my feet kicked. Damn it, I wasn’t dying tonight.

  “Diane?” The hands shook me. “Diane!”

  The voice didn’t belong to one of the kidnappers.

  “Calm down. You’re safe,” he said, his voice low and deep. So deep that even in my hysteria it caused a spasm of something down south.

  I stopped screaming.

  Headlights and flashing blue lights blinded me. I couldn’t tell what direction I faced or where I was going. The whole world narrowed to those strong hands as they checked me over, and that voice. “Are you okay, Diane?”

  My lips trembled with an answer, but my body shook so hard the words balled, crushed under the weight of an unwieldy tongue.

  A whisper of sensation caressed my chin. Fingers moved down to my shoulders. My tongue came unstuck and my mouth opened at the audacity. I was pushed into a noticeably feminine chest before I could complain.

  “Take her to the car,” he of the traveling hands said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  The woman’s navy uniform blurred into the white of the vehicle as I was swept into the crook of her arm.

  I blinked, regaining focus as she escorted me away from the bright lights. We were on the other side of a police cruiser in a dark part of the road. I was placed in the open back seat.

  She patted my back and placed a thick blanket around my shoulders. Why, I wasn’t sure. It was May and, even this early, it was hot as balls.

  I shrugged, letting it drape around my elbows. I’d sweated enough tonight for a lifetime.

  “Are you okay?”

  I nodded and looked up. The woman was pale-skinned, dark-haired and a little taller than me. Maybe a few years older. She filled her navy uniform very stoutly. A flash of jealousy hit me. I’d always wanted to a figure like hers. It was curvy yet muscular. There was a confidence in her bearing as she stood feet apart, hands relaxed at her sides. Her eyes scanned the area while keeping me in her sights and at arms’ length. My body was fine—okay, decent—but it all too often didn’t move like I wanted it to. She didn’t look as if she ever had such a problem.

  “Thank you for coming.”

  “It’s our job.” Her smile was kind. “And Cole wasn’t going to let anything keep him from helping you.”

  Another cop car screeched up. Followed by an ambulance. Then a fire truck. Ten minutes later, the area was filled with so many emergency vehicles it looked like the aftermath of a college kegger. With so many lights, I could see where we’d stopped. My car was over to the right, all her doors opened and officers milling in and around it. I couldn’t tell where exactly I was, but I didn’t think we’d gone too far outside city limits.

  EMTs poked and prodded at me for a few short minutes, but as there hadn’t been any damage, they moved on. They stood in the huddle of uniforms near my car. One officer separated to stride over to me. At this distance, he looked like the other officers. The closer he got, though, the more he stood out.

  Dude was beyond hot.

  My eyes bugged and I clutched the blanket as the fine hairs lifted all over my body. I straightened. Blinked. No one would be able to claim he had a body for radio. If anything, his voice sandbagged the package.

  “Diane?” His fingers traced a gentle path across my face.

  I tried to speak but didn’t quite manage it. He was the man who’d rescued me?

  If I didn’t know better, I’d swear the love child of a wrestler and a superhero had landed in front of me. I had the urge to go Southern belle on his ass and fan myself while saying, “I do declare.”

  He was tall. At slightly above five-foot, most people seemed tall, but this man was up there. As in, he could have played professional basketball regardless of his skill set because he’d already be at the net. I’d need climbing gear if I wanted to look him in the eyes without cracking my back.

  He didn’t wear a uniform like the woman beside me, but dark jeans and a black t-shirt. And so muscular in the upper arms the material lay against it like latex. It had to be uncomfortable. There didn’t seem to be any room to flex.

  “Diane, are you all right? You never did answer me from earlier.” He clasped my hands, bringing my attention to his face. And what a face.

  His eyes were a vibrant dark brown against bronzed skin. They were so intent they almost glowed. His head did glow, so smooth the lights reflected off it. I wanted to stroke it.

  Girl, you’ve just been kidnapped and are thinking about stroking a stranger’s head. Get it together!

  I shook my head. I wished I could pinch the underside of my arm to make sure I wasn’t still asleep and this was the product of tequila-inspired fantasies.

  “I’m fine.”

  I shifted on the edge of the seat. The blanket pooled around my waist, exposing my body.

  His eyes flickered down then back to mine. Nuclear-level intensity stabbed deep, penetrating, mesmerizing. As if he knew the most intimate parts of my mind and body.

  He edged closer, his heat combined with that of the blanket, bringing my temperature to midday summer car proportions. Bees swarmed in my stomach. I bunched the blanket back around my shoulders, ducking my head.

  “Diane, this is Trooper Peters,” he said with a chin lift to the woman who’d helped me.

  I smiled briefly, appreciating the brief respite from his intense maleness.

  “If you’re okay to talk, we need to ask you some questions.” He placed his hands on his hips. “Tell us what happened.”

  I’d expected it. Hopefully, they wouldn’t require all the embarrassing details of the night. My car didn’t normally look like that, but I’d been busy—okay, lazy.

  Peters pulled out a small notebook and pen and moved in closer.

  “I’d gone with my cousin to Chili’s for drinks and dinner. We decided to leave after an hour or so, but I couldn’t find my keys to drive. Since I was too dr—”cough “tired to drive home, I figured I’d crash in the back of my car for a couple hours, then roll on home. I did, and woke up with the two guys driving my car down the road. I called you and here we are.”

  “You didn’t recognize them?” Trooper Peters asked.

  “No.”

  “Get a clear look at them? Anything distinctive you remember? Voice? Words?” Cole asked.

  “No, but they did mention a Bobby Lee.”

  Cole’s face tightened. “Is that name familiar to you?”

  My mouth dropped open. “Dude, really? Are you not from around here? Not to perpetuate a stereotype, but that name is not an uncommon one. Not to mention, I’m not sure if it’s a combination first and middle name, first and last, or just first.”

  “My name is Cole, as you know. Not dude.” Authority rang crisp in each word. It suggested I not make that mistake again. And if the message had somehow been lost, he followed it up with, “Don’t do it again.”

  Dude. Dude. Dude. The tone in his voice sunk his hotness level by several degrees. He might have been a cop but that didn’t give him the right to order me around as if I were a dog.

  “Did you hear anything else you think might be of importance?”

  “I think they were Republicans.”

  “You didn’t get a description or notice anything, but you learned their political affiliation?” It was his turn to stare. “And how is that relevant?”

  I shrugged. “You asked about importance. They mentioned Bobby Lee, the new EPA restrictions hurting the coal industry, and turning to drugs out of
high school because there weren’t any other ways to make money.” I was totally jerking his chain now. And enjoying every single minute. The fact that it was the truth was gravy.

  “Drugs?” He straightened and stepped closer to share a look with Trooper Peters.

  She, who had been silently observing and scribbling on the page, shot a sharp glance up. “Did you say drugs?”

  “Yes. Ethan said drugs weren’t his first choice, but the new economy wasn’t friendly to the twenty-year set.”

  They shared another glance.

  I turned my head from Imhotep Junior to Trooper Peters. She was definitely the nicer of the two. “Didn’t you catch them? The two guys?”

  It was Hottie McSnotty who answered. “No, they were able to get away.”

  That seemed inept of the cops, considering. Some sixth sense warned me against saying that out loud. Well, that and the burning blaze of danger rolling off him hot enough to singe my hair, and the fist opening and closing at his side. I was seriously glad it wasn’t me he was angry with. I suspected someone’s ass would get reamed but good come Monday.

  I started pinpointing escape routes in case he decided to go full-on Hulk on the squad car.

  “Did they strip poor Blue’s steering column?” I hoped it would distract him and save Oakvale, as well as the rest of the county, from property damage.

  “No.” His lips twisted and a dark brow shot up. “Why would they?”

  “How else did they get my car started?”

  “The keys were in the ignition. At least I assume they’re your keys. They have a little skull figurine on them.”

  Hmph. That explained why I hadn’t been able to find them in my purse.

  Stinkin’ tequila.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, the black shirt getting dangerously tight. The look on his face darkened and a vein stood out on the column of his neck. This dude could be a scary badass when he was of a mind to it. Oddly, I didn’t get the sense he would hurt me. I was still wary, but didn’t get the vibe he was physically dangerous. Maybe it was the woman calmly standing next to him.

  Or I was nuts.

  Either way, I wasn’t afraid. His shoulders eased, the material of his shirt seeming to sigh in relief. “How much did you say you had to drink last night?”

  I hadn’t. “Is this important? Dude, I was just kidnapped!” Didn’t that earn me some consideration? Some sympathy?

  By the way that vein throbbed, apparently not. It could be because I’d accidentally—okay, intentionally—called him dude again.

  “This way.” He crooked his finger at me. Pointed at the straight white line on the edge of the road. “Stand.”

  I mentally deducted another point from his hotness scale. If this kept up, he wasn’t going to star in my fantasies the next time it was personal fun time.

  He pulled out a freakin’ sobriety test.

  “How is this fair? Shouldn’t you be patting me on the shoulder or asking if I need a counselor? Not punishing me by making me walk a straight line or breathe into a machine that has probably kissed more lips than Steven Tyler?”

  He ignored my ranting, studying the monitor of the machine I’d exhaled into.

  His lips pinched. “You’re over the limit.” His serious tone contradicted the glint in his eyes.

  I threw up my hands. “Seriously, dude? You’re gonna arrest me for that? Did you not notice the type of evening I’ve had?”

  Protect and serve, my ass. Where was the love?

  “Diane, I’ve told you not to call me dude. The law’s the law, and it clearly says your drunk ass isn’t driving home.” Another finger point. “Now, stay.”

  I crossed my arms and seethed.

  He talked to Peters briefly.

  She waved at me, then went to my car, now surrounded by the huddle from earlier. My personal bane grabbed my upper forearm in a grip all cops seemed to have. It spoke of dead men walking the Green Mile. “Come on. We’ll take the rest of your statement at the department. Then, I’ll take you home.”

  Before I knew it, he’d hustled me into the squad car I’d sat in earlier.

  Specifically, the bad side of the mesh cage.

  I tried, and failed, not to take it personally.

  ***

  Don’t stop now. Keep reading with your copy of CRAZY ON YOU available now. And sign up for the City Owl Press newsletter to receive notice of all book releases!

  Don’t miss a romantic comedy suspense car-chasing adventure with CRAZY ON YOU by City Owl Author, Nicole Terry. And discover more from Diane Holiday at www.dianeholiday.com

  Diane Thompson wakes up in the backseat of her car, shocked to find she’s acquired a chauffeur. Realizing she’s been inadvertently kidnapped, she swears off tequila—and Chili’s—then dials 9-1-1.

  But her rescue comes at a cost.

  Her savior, too-macho-for-words Lt. Cole Anderson, refuses to let Diane out of his sight until her kidnappers are apprehended. He’s already lost one woman he cared about due to his inattention; he’s not letting it happen a second time.

  But Diane isn’t a damsel-in-distress type of girl.

  When it turns out the criminals left a valuable item in her car and they want it back, involving Cole isn’t part of her plan and not only because the criminals have forbidden her from involving the cops.

  Men are like birds—messy, easily distracted, and only around when there’s something to eat.

  She’s got this.

  All she has to do is find and return the item in question to the drug runners threatening her life, survive a high-speed car chase, and keep her vow to never trust a man with her heart.

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  Acknowledgments

  My heartfelt thanks go out to all of the amazing people in my life who support me and make it possible for my books to be published:

  To my husband, Steve. He’s my rock and also a pretty darn good critiquer now! I have to laugh at his lack of a filter sometimes. “Really? How many times is she going to smell his cologne?” But seriously, he reads every chapter and gives me great input. One of my writing friends even has him read some of her chapters for his input. He might have to quit his pontoon boat tour job to keep up with the critiquing demands.

  To my daughter, Kelsey, for all her support getting her friends hooked on my books.

  To my son, Brent, for having a farm full of animals up in Maine that make excellent photo opportunities with my books for advertising.

  To Mary Cain, my content editor. I don’t have enough words to explain how wonderful she is and how much she strives to help me reach my full potential. She pushes me to take my characters to that next deeper level.

  To Tina Moss and Yelena Castle, co-founders of City Owl Press. I love the transparency of our press and all that these women do to support their authors. They are constantly exploring the latest, best marketing and opportunities for us.

  To my fantastic critique partners who I can’t thank enough for their time and dedication. We all help each other. It’s tough love, but we’re in it together.

  To Investigator George Simmons from Richland County Sheriff’s Department, Columbia, SC. Thanks for answering so many of my questions about police procedure. Any misinterpretations or mistakes are my own.

  To Brooke Arthur for being my local cheerleader, taking pictures of my books with her animals, and giving out my bookmarks to customers at The Color Bar where she works.

  To Jerry, the owner of The Coffee Shelf in Chapin, for hosting book signings and carrying my books in the store.

  To all military members past and present. You and your families sacrifice
so much to keep us safe. Every book sold adds to the personal donations I make to a non-profit organization that supports veterans.

  About the Author

  DIANE HOLIDAY is an award-winning author and a Golden Heart® Award Finalist who writes romantic suspense with a healthy dose of humor. Her characters will make you laugh, cry, and root for them to the end. If you are sleep deprived because you couldn’t put her book down, then she’s achieved her goal. Diane loves animals and is a volunteer and soon-to-be foster at a training center for service dogs. Every book in the Love Beyond Danger series features a loyal, lovable dog. Diane is married to a retired Navy Captain, who is her go-to for colorful slang and guy-talk. She and her husband live in South Carolina on beautiful Lake Murray. In her spare time, she can be caught reading, boating, or mailing care packages full of homemade goodies to her daughter in California and her son in Maine.

  www.dianeholiday.com

  About the Publisher

  City Owl Press is a cutting edge indie publishing company, bringing the world of romance and speculative fiction to discerning readers.

  www.cityowlpress.com

  Additional Titles

  LOVE IN HIDING

  By: Diane Holiday

  Award-Winning Author

  Running from Danger, Caught by Love.

  LOVE ON THE LINE

  By: Diane Holiday

  Award-Winning Author

  Losing to Danger, Winning in Love.

  ALL I EVER WANTED

  By: Katrina Mills

  Second Chance, Summer Romance.

  CRAZY ON YOU