Crew looked good, too good for someone who should at least have suffered somewhat for the agony he put me through. I couldn't bring myself to be angry with him, though, not when his long, fast strides carried him toward me. A third car ground to a halt as Robert tried to catch up with his boss, my cousin's expression one of utter loathing, aimed at Crew's back. I needed to warn the handsome sheriff what he was getting himself into, but I couldn't seem to breathe properly just then.
The water in my lungs or the sight of tall, dark and handsome home again? I'll let you decide what made talking impossible.