Cavanaugh Rules by Marie Ferrarella

it’s closed.”
    “No, I see some movement,” Abilene contradicted. “There, in the back. Next to that rear door.”
    As he said it, the tall, somewhat scruffy-looking thin man who had caught his attention bolted through the same door.
    “Guess he’s not interested in making new friends,” Kendra quipped as they quickly rounded the building to the back of the store and the alleyway that ran the length of the strip mall.
    “Maybe he’s just shy,” Abilene responded dryly.
    When they reached the alley behind the pet store, there was less than a beat before someone started shooting at them.
    The moment he heard the sound of the first gunshot, Abilene yanked Kendra’s arm and pulled her to the ground, throwing himself on top of her to shield her from the bullets. Discarded large cartons that had once contained giant supplies of pet food provided partial shelter.
    Despite the dire situation, Abilene was not unaware of the feel of her body beneath his. Nor was he oblivious to the very strong reaction he was having to her.
    Forcing his mind back to the immediate problem, Abilene scanned the area to see where the gunfire had originated. His body still pressed completely over hers, he pulled out his own weapon and returned rapid fire.
    “I’ll cover you,” he told her. “You get back into the building.”
    “The hell I will. But you can get off me,” she ordered. She couldn’t breathe with his weight on her and more than that, she didn’t like the reaction she was having to his body aligned with hers this way. Every inch of her body was aware of his. Big-time.
    The sudden guttural scream told them that despite all odds and very poor visibility, Abilene had somehow managed to hit the fleeing suspect who was firing wildly at them.
    “You shot me!” The bewildered, belligerent accusation echoed in the empty alley. “I’m bleeding!” the dealer cried in panic. “Help me! I’m dying!”
    “That’s one hell of a drama queen,” Abilene commented.
    “You’re still on top of me,” Kendra pointed out through clenched teeth.
    “So I am.” Abilene drew back slowly. On his feet, he offered her a hand, which she ignored.
    “If that’s a chuckle,” she warned as she scrambled to her feet, “you’re a dead man.”
    “Just clearing my throat,” her partner told her innocently.
    Kendra gave him a dirty look, then turned her attention to the man who was still screaming that he was dying.
    “We can get you to a doctor,” she called out, raising her voice above the panicked dealer’s cries. “But you have to throw out your gun.”
    “John Smith” was all but sobbing now. “Okay, okay, okay, here it is.” He tossed it out then came out himself from behind the Dumpster he’d used for cover. “Now get me some help before I bleed to death!”
    On her feet, she was about to take the lead and was utterly surprised when Abilene caught her arm again. But this time, rather than pull her down to the ground, he merely switched places with her, going first.
    She knew what he was doing—putting himself in harm’s way instead of her, just in case the man had another weapon hidden somewhere. While a part of her appreciated the fact that he was trying to protect her, that was not the way a partnership like theirs was supposed to work.
    What was with this man, anyway? Were his testosterone levels off the chart?
    “What?” she demanded, trying to pull him back—it was like trying to move a mountain, something else to annoy her about him. “Are you suddenly bulletproof?”
    “Didn’t you know that?” he deadpanned. “It’s right there in my résumé. Page two: Bullets just bounce off me without leaving a dent.”
    “Must have missed that part.” Her own weapon drawn, they approached Summer’s alleged recreational drug supplier, watching for any sudden moves. But the part-time pet store employee had morphed from preening drug supplier to a frightened stuck pig. All he wanted was to have the bullet removed from