Mitch raised his hands in surrender. “Ms. Shelton?”

Finding Alana had been a group effort. Mitch had the good fortune of catching their pilots before they left Richmond and convinced them to make a flight to Colorado Springs first thing in the morning. Leah had also been kind enough to answer his late night call to help locate the women’s retreat.

Now they were here, unwelcomed, and staring down the barrel of a rifle. He should’ve paid more attention to the No men allowed unless authorized sign on the front fence.

“Get off my property!” the woman wailed, her voice shaking with emotion.

“Holy. Shit,” Blake whispered over the hood of the car. “I think this is where I punch out on the friendship card and back the fuck away.”

“Please, just let me see Alana.”

“I won’t tell you again, buddy.” Her voice rose.

It wasn’t as if they arrived unexpected. Mitch had been on the phone to her only minutes earlier. He’d taken the number off the retreat sign at the front gate and called to ask for permission to enter. Not that it mattered. He hadn’t planned on taking no for an answer anyway. He knew what the retreat was for, he knew he would be Satan trying to enter heaven, but he had to see Alana. He couldn’t turn back now.

“Please, ma’am.” Blake skirted the hood with raised arms, his tattoos gleaming in the sunshine. “We’ve come all the way from New York. We only want a few minutes with her.”

She peered down at Blake with disdain. Mitch knew exactly what she saw, a hoodlum with inked skin, spiked hair, and frayed jeans. A door slammed in the distance, followed by footsteps crunching on gravel. The woman glanced to her right, then back at Blake, who still approached.

“Stop!” she yelled.

He took another step. “I’m sorry, I’m—”

A hollow pop blasted the air and Mitch ducked. Blake stumbled in front of him, his hands falling to his hip to clutch tight. Mitch grabbed him around the shoulders before he fell, keeping him upright.

“She shot me!” Blake glanced down at his shaking hands.

Oh, shit. What had Mitch dragged his friend into? Adrenaline kicked in, accelerating his heart, clearing his mind. Loud footsteps echoed from behind them, and Mitch moved to shield Blake with his body before looking over his shoulder.

Alana.

She ran toward him, her wild, brown hair flailing around her shoulders, eyes wide, mouth agape. He stared, shock gripping him by the shrunken balls. She spared him a fleeting glance before glaring back at the porch where her mother clutched at her ribs.

“Mom, get inside!” she screamed as she came up beside him and nudged him out of the way. “Get Patty. Now.”

“I-It’s only a pellet. It isn’t a r-real rifle,” her mother replied, fear evident in her voice.

Blake slid to the ground, his back resting against the car tire.

Alana fell to her knees. “Show me.” She raised his shirt and hissed in a breath at the blood. Her head snapped to the house, toward her mother, who still waited on the porch, the gun now lowered. “It may not be a real rifle but you’ve caused real damage. Now go get Patty.” She turned back to Blake. “I’m so sorry.”

Mitch retreated and allowed the guilt to take over his body. His head pounded, making his vision swim, and he stumbled sideways. He laid a hand against the cool metal of the car and breathed deep. Red liquid covered Blake’s stomach and Alana’s hands. Not much at all, just enough to make him giddy.

“It’s only a scratch,” he heard Alana whisper.

He peered down at her and caught her staring back at him, her eyebrows raised. “What are you doing here?”

The front door slammed, and Mitch moved out of the way as an auburn-haired lady knelt beside Alana with a first aid kit. “Hi. I’m Patty.”

Blake shrank back, his gaze flashing from Alana to the other woman. “I’m fine, really.” He held up his hands. “It’s a scratch.”

“Don’t be silly.” Patty opened her first aid kit and snapped on a pair of gloves.

“It’s all right, Blake. Patty’s a nurse. She works here.” Alana squeezed his shoulder, and he slumped with a deep breath.

“Why don’t we get you into the house so I can take a look at you?” Patty gripped his elbow.

“Umm.” His gaze went from Patty, to Alana, to Mitch, and back to Alana. “No offense, but your mom is all kinds of crazy. I’d prefer to stay out here if that’s OK.”

Alana grimaced as the nurse chuckled.

“A big tattooed guy like you is afraid of a little lady with a broken arm and a pellet gun?” Patty raised her brows and stood. “Come on.” She held out her hand. “I’ll protect you.”

Blake moved to his feet with a wince. “I hope so, ’cause those pellets hurt like a bitch.”

Alana kept her back to Mitch, her body facing Patty and Blake as they made their way up the front steps and into the main house. Her spine was stiff, her shoulders rigid.

“I’m sorry, Allie.”

Her chin rose and she heaved a heavy breath. “Why are you here?”

“I needed to see you. I needed to apologize.”

Silence.

He gravitated toward her, closing the distance, and placed his hands on her shoulders. She shuddered at his touch, and he didn’t know if he should back away or clutch her tighter. “I’m sorry.”

She stepped forward, dislodging his grip. “I better go check on Blake.” She walked toward the house, quickly making her way onto the porch.

“Allie.”

She paused, the screen door held open in her hand, and glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes were glazed, her lips pressed together in a tight line.

He wished he could wipe away her anguish with a brush of his lips. “Promise you’ll give me a chance to explain later?”

She lowered her gaze and shook her head. “There’s no need. You made your position clear on the Daybreak breakfast show.” She raised her chin. “I’m nobody’s distraction, Mitchell. I think it’s best if you leave.”

* * *

Alana strode down the corridor to the first aid room, shaking her hands to dislodge the hold Mitchell had on her. He was under her skin, in her heart, clouding her mind. It was suffocating. Nauseating. It made her throat dry and her eyes burn.

Why show up out of the blue without even a phone call? She’d yearned to hear his voice, or even a text. In friendship or love, it wouldn’t have mattered. Now too many days had passed. She deserved a man who had time for her whether they were in or out of town. A man who would love her wholeheartedly and promise fidelity through weeks of separation. Not someone who would turn up when he had a few hours to spare.

She pasted on a smile and entered the small room where Patty had Blake cornered on a hospital gurney. He sat straight, naked from the waist up, the artwork of his body on full display. She admired the definition of finely sculpted muscles and concentrated on what images marked his skin. When her gaze reached his face, he was staring at her, his eyes wide with a silent plea.

“How’s the patient?”

Patty scoffed. “For a man covered in ink, he’s awfully skittish around needles.”

“If I thought your poking was going to leave a cool picture, maybe I wouldn’t mind so much,” he mumbled.

“He declined my finest scotch, too. Nancy-boy didn’t even want a shot of courage.”

Alana gave a fake gasp. “Patty! If Mom found out you have liquor, she would go ballistic.”

“Don’t you go blabbing on me, girl. It’s my own secret stash that I keep in a locked cabinet. No need to upset your momma any further. And I don’t remember you complaining when I gave you your first taste of alcohol as a teen.”

Alana tsk’d and shook her head before turning to the patient. “Need me to hold your hand, Blake?”

“I’m sure you could distract me with something better than handholding, sugar.” He winked, then winced and sucked in a breath. “Holy f-f-f-f-fire truck. I think you just stitched my kidney.”

“Sorry, my hand slipped,” Patty clipped out.

“Please be gentle with him.” Alana pulled the chair from the office table in the corner and dragged it to sit beside the gurney. “Under the bravado, he’s a big softie.”

Blake fixed her with a sweet smile and reached for her hand. “Did you speak to Mitch?”

She shook her head and schooled her features, pretending the sound of Mitchell’s name didn’t clench her heart like a vice.

“Do you plan on speaking to him?”

“Blake.” She slumped her shoulders and pleaded with her eyes. She couldn’t talk about it. Maybe when the craziness settled she would be able to think straight again. But not now. Not when she had boxes to move, a mother to manage, and her heart firmly lodged in her throat.

He took the hint and changed the subject, sticking to trivial topics like the weather. When Patty finished bandaging the wound, he grabbed his shirt from beside him and scooted off the gurney in a flash.

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand before your mom finds the knives.” He reached for her hand, placing it in the crook of his elbow, and led her from the room.

Alana sighed and braced herself for the two uncomfortable conversations she had to endure.

Easiest one first.

“Will you press charges?”

He peered down at her as they strolled down the hall. “Against your mom?” He shook his head with a frown. “No. I’m happy to blame Mitch for this one. If I would’ve known she warned him from driving onto the property in the first place, I would’ve waited on the highway.”

Alana paused, and he took another step before doing the same. Her hand fell from its place on his arm, slapping back to her side. “Mitch spoke to her before you arrived?”

“Yeah. He’s been trying to get in contact with you since last night. First we went to Kate’s house, but all she told him was that you were back in Colorado. He’s been calling in favors from everywhere to try to find you. Then before we drove onto the property, he spoke to your mom on the phone.”

“What did she say?”

“Something along the lines of ‘you aren’t welcome ’cause you broke my daughter’s heart. And if she wanted to speak to you she would’ve answered your calls.’”

“I didn’t leave his calls unanswered on purpose,” she mumbled. “My phone was on silent.” She glanced up at Blake, and he pierced her with his deep brown eyes. “I probably wouldn’t have answered anyway.”

He nodded. “Yeah, we both thought as much. Mitch didn’t plan on giving up, though.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“I told you weeks ago, before we left Richmond. He likes you. I warned you he’d push you away, and you didn’t fight for him.”

She placed her hands on her hips and scowled. “He thinks he knows what’s best for me. He tried to tell me what I needed and what I didn’t. I will never disrespect myself enough to be with a man like that, no matter how much I lo-like him.”

Blake raised a brow. “And why do you think he said those things?”

“Because he’s a jerk!” Her heart skipped a thudded beat. She needed to believe he was a chauvinistic pig. Otherwise, she would end up crawling on her knees and asking him to give their relationship another try.

“No, sugar. He said it because he knew it would get you to let him go without a fight. And in case you didn’t know, that time we spent together—”

She frowned in confusion and he waggled his brows at her. “Ohh…yes.” He meant the time when they were all together. Her cheeks heated at the memory.

“—Mitch has never done that before. The whole protective-jealous thing, I mean. He cherishes you, Alana. I’ve never seen him this way.”

“I don’t understand. Why did he need me to let him go in the first place?”

Blake stepped toward her and grabbed her hand. “I’m not the person you need to ask.” He tugged her toward him. “Come on. Let’s go find where he’s hiding.”

She followed in a daze, her mind mulling possibilities that made her smile. Mitchell was here for her. He flew half way across the country—for her. They turned the corner to the entrance hall and found her mother pacing near the door. Her gaze shot to them, then lowered to their joined hands. Her face paled and her fingers shook as they rose to cover her mouth. “I apologize.”

Alana’s heart warmed with appreciation. She hadn’t expected her mom to atone for her dangerous mistake without the threat of legal action falling into play.

“I-I don’t know what happened… I just…there was too much… I didn’t mean to… I…I—” She began to sob, big chest heaving cries that echoed off the walls.

Dropping Blake’s hand, Alana embraced her mother. She became the rock, holding strong while tears dampened her white camisole. “You need help.”

Her mom nodded into her shoulder. “I know. I started looking into it after I left the hospital. I’ve made plans to see a counselor. It’s been too long. I can’t go on like this.” She squeezed Alana tight. “Is he going to press charges?”

Alana glanced over at Blake and he shook his head. “No, Ma. He’s not going to press charges.”

“You love him?”

“What?” Alana leaned back. “No. This is Blake, not Mitchell.”

“You shot the wrong guy.” Blake chuckled, then winced and clutched his side.

Her mom stepped away from Alana’s embrace and faced Blake. “I hope you can accept my apology.”

“No worries.” He smiled and opened his arms.

Her mother glanced at him with wide eyes. Alana held her breath waiting for the man hater to run for the hills. Instead she stepped forward, paused, then did it again, and again, until finally she was in Blake’s arms.

“Don’t hold too tight, she has fractured ribs.”

With her mom’s stiff posture and the uncomfortable expression on Blake’s face, they wouldn’t score the world’s most comfortable hug, yet those few steps were a lifelong journey for her mother.

Alana sniffed and blinked away tears.

“You want to join in, sugar?”

She rolled her eyes and Blake released his hold.

“Are you ready to go find Mitch?” He held out his hand and she grasped his offering.

“Yeah.” Hope would kill her if she didn’t speak to him soon.

He led her past the front door and paused on the porch. Mitchell rested against his car, legs crossed at the ankles as he stared at his shoes. He glanced up when the screen slammed shut and frowned when his focus lowered to their entwined hands.

Blake leaned in close, his breath whispering against her cheek as he placed a kiss on her temple. “Just for good measure,” he whispered.

She struggled not to laugh. “You’re a horrible friend,” she scolded.

“Don’t worry, he’ll thank me for it one day.”

She sighed and raised his hand to her mouth. She kissed his knuckles, silently thanking him with her eyes. “Just for good measure,” she whispered, and then pressed her lips together to stop from blubbering.

“Now, this time, don’t back down. Clamp those delicate hands around his neck if you have to. Don’t let go until all your questions are answered.”

“I plan on it.” She dropped his hand and marched down the stairs, her chest expanding with each step.

She didn’t take her gaze off Mitchell, not even to check if Blake followed. Her attention remained on the man who held her heart.