Man with the Muscle by Julie Miller

nice career, Mr. Lassen. Just remember…” her tone was in full lawyer mode now “…you’re trespassing on a crime scene. If you don’t clear out of here right now, I’ll have this fine officer arrest you.”
    Go, Red.
    Lassen swore. Then swore again. “You big shots with all your money—you think you own this town. But you don’t. I have every right to make my living, and you can’t—”
    â€œYou really want to threaten her with me standing here, Lassen?” The instant the reporter took half a step forward, Alex planted himself squarely in his path.
    â€œAre you the bodyguard or the boyfriend?” Was that going to be part of his story?
    Alex faked a lunge forward. Lassen stumbled backward, cursing cocky cops and daddy’s girls and life in general as he turned and stormed up the sidewalk.
    Audrey wiped another swath of tomato juice from her neck. “You’d better brace yourself. We are so hitting the rumor mill tomorrow.”
    â€œThat doesn’t bother me.” He picked up her attaché bag and handed it to her, steaming at the knowledge that that wasn’t only juice trickling over her skin.
    Just after the blast, the Reaper had been standing there in the park, watching. Now he was gone. That bothered him even more than the reporters who were finally on the scent of Lassen’s story and hurrying along the sidewalk toward them. It bothered him more than the bomb.
    â€œShould we go?” Audrey prompted.
    The roar of a heavy-duty truck engine gunning down the hill was the best news Alex had had since leaving the courtroom. Backup had arrived. He hooked his fingers around her arm. “Yeah. Going is good.”
    Rafe zoomed up to the curb in his black pickup truck. Trip opened the passenger door and jumped out before they came to a complete stop. “We came as soon as we got your text and could get out of the garage. What the hell’s going on?”
    â€œBomb in the trash can. More for effect than to do any real damage. Remote detonation. Could have been the kids in the car, could have been, hell…could have been anybody.” Audrey tilted her chin up—way up—and sidled closer to Alex as he pulled her past Trip. “I need her out of here. Now.”
    Trip swung around at the approaching footsteps of a dozen curious onlookers and eager reporters. “I gotthis. Meet you back at HQ.” He raised his badge in the air, his booming voice taking command of the scene. “KCPD. Stop right where you are. Everybody remain calm and do exactly what I say.”
    There wasn’t a bigger wall between Audrey and potential danger than Trip Jones. But she braced her hand against the door frame and refused to climb in. “Wait a minute. I thought we were walking.” They didn’t have control of the scene yet and Alex wasn’t in the mood to argue. He spanned his hands around her waist and lifted her into the cab, pitching her into the middle of the seat and climbing in behind her. “What are you doing? You’re kidnapping me now? Who are you people?”
    â€œSWAT Team One. That was Trip. This is Rafe.” Alex pulled the door shut. “Go, Sarge. D.A.’s office. Unless you want to hit the emergency room first?” he asked her.
    Audrey shook her head, sinking back into the seat between them as Rafe put the truck into gear and called Dispatch on the radio.
    â€œI was in control of my life half an hour ago. What’s happening?” She opened her attaché on her lap and pulled out a blue bandanna.
    His blue bandanna.
    After all this time she was still carrying that old rag with her?
    As she pulled open her coat to clean some tomato drippings from her collar bone, Alex plucked the bandanna from her hand. He heard her soft gasp of breath and watched the self-conscious heat creep along her neck. When his eyes met hers, he tried to communicate that he had no problem with her