By a combination of Wolverine, The Rock, and maybe Ahnold from back in the day.

And as a result, nothing was processing well, not her having run into the back of Lanes car, not the fact that there was water in her face, not the loud noise"

Lizzie!

The sound of her name cleared some of the cobwebs away, and she looked around, trying to figure out why God suddenly sounded a lot like Lane.

Lane? she said, blinking hard.

Why was he coming through her windshield? Was this a dream?

" hurt anywhere? he was saying. I need to know before I move you.

Im sorry . . . about your car"

Lizzie, yall gotta tell me if youre hurt!

{ 340 }.

Boy, when he got anxious that Southern accent came back thick, didnt it. Then she frowned. Hurt? Why would she be"

And that was when she saw all the greenery.

In her car.

Okay, this had to be a bad dream" and she might as well go along with it: Testing her arms, her legs, taking a deep breath, moving her head . . . everything checked out.

Im all right, she mumbled. What happened?

Im going to pull you forward"help me if you can, kay?

Sure. Ill"

Wow. Ow!

But she was determined to particpate in the effort. Even as things got stretched out of place and threatened to pop from sockets, she shoved her feet against anything she came in contact with, pushing as Lane pulled, twisting to keep going forward.

Rain on her face, in her hair, on her clothes. Scratches. Wind blinding her.

But he got her out.

And then she was in his arms, up against his chest, feeling him tremble.

Oh, God, he said hoarsely. Oh, praise God, youre alive . . .

Lizzie held on to him, still not understanding why they were sitting up in a tree. How had the cars gotten up in her"

The lightning bolt streaked out of the sky and landed so close to them, her ears exploded in pain.

We have to get inside, Lane barked. Come on.

Sometime in the process of tripping and falling to the ground, her brain came back online" and what she saw nearly paralyzed her.

Half of the beautiful tree that grew beside her house had crushed her car.

She hadnt hit his Porsche, after all.

The crunching had been her tiny sedan taking the brunt of all that tremendous weight.

Lane . . . my car"

{ 341 }.

That was all she got out before he took her up into his arms and ran for her house. As he jumped onto the porch, she pushed herself from his hold and refused to go any farther. Lifting her hand to her mouth at the sight of her car, she"

Blood. There was blood . . . all over her.

A sudden lightheadedness washed over her, making her sway as she looked down at herself. Lane . . . am I hurt?

Inside, he demanded, moving her bodily to the door.

As he shoved her into her house and put his whole strength against the panels to reshut them, her heart began to pound as she got a good look at her savior: He was a bloody, wet mess, too.

But what did it matter?

The two of them embraced in such a rush that their dripping clothes slapped together, their bodies reconnecting, sharing warmth, holding on hard.

I thought Id lost you, he said into her ear. Oh, Christ, I thought Id"

You saved me, you saved me"

They were both talking a mile a minute, tripping over words, buzz- ing from the near miss. And then he was kissing her and she was kissing him back.

Except she stopped all that, pulling away. I think youre the one whos bleeding.

Just scratches"

Oh, God, look at your arms" your hands!

He was totally torn up, his exposed skin streaked with cuts from his having fought through the branches to get to her" and there were fur- ther contusions on his face and his neck.

I dont care, he said. Youre all Im worried about.

Do you need a doctor?

Oh, please. The tree fell on you, remember?

And that was when the lights went out.

Lizzie stilled for a moment . . . and then she started to laugh so hard that her eyes burned. It was just too much emotion about too many things for her to hold in" and before she knew it, Lane was laughing, { 342 }.

too, the pair of them holding each other and letting out the ridiculous afterburn of everything from the problems with his family to the stress of the brunch . . . to that freak accident with her tree.

Shower? she said.

I thought you would never ask.

Ordinarily, shed have fussed over the wet footprints across her liv- ing room and up the planks of the stairs, but not now: The memory of that weight landing on her car was a prioritizer and a half.

I swear, I thought I hit your car, she said as they came up to the second floor.

It wouldnt have mattered if you had.

Ah, the joys of being a Bradford, she thought. You have a backup Porsche, Im sure.

Even if I didnt, it wouldnt have mattered as long as youre okay.

Squeezing together, they made it through the jambs of her bedroom and into her bath" and then, as she turned on the shower, he went for her clothes, unbuttoning things, releasing zippers, shedding her second skins worth of wet and cold and clingy.

Goosebumps tickled her arms and thighs, but that was more from the heat in his eyes than the chill in the air. And then Lane was taking off his own clothes, leaving them where they landed in a tangled mess with hers.

Under the water, she groaned as he nuzzled into her throat, kiss- ing his way to her mouth.

He cursed as they stepped into the warm, gentle spray" and as the blood washed off, she was relieved. Just cuts on him, nothing serious . . .

And that was the last thought she had as his big hands traveled over her slick breasts, and his mouth came down hard on hers, and that fa- miliar erotic urgency sprang to life between them.

I love you, she thought inside her head.

I love you all over again, Lane.

S ometime later, after the power came back on, and Lane had made love to his Lizzie twice in the shower and once more in { 343 }.

her bed, after they had gone down and had the last of that frozen lasa- gna and most of the peach ice cream in her house, after they had re- turned upstairs and gotten into her bed again . . . all the problems of the day came back to him.

Fortunately, Lizzie was asleep and it was dark, so whatever expres- sion he didnt have the energy to hide was a non-starter.

Staring at her ceiling, his mind pulled a churn and burn over it all, and the next thing he knew, light was glowing at the edge of the hori- zon. A quick glance at Lizzies alarm clock and he was surprised to find that hed blown the whole night.

Sliding out from under the sheets, he got to his feet and went into the bathroom. His clothes were unsalvageable; he picked them up off the floor and put them into her trash. The only thing he saved? His boxers.

Better than driving home buck- ass naked on the Lords day.

Back out in the bedroom, he went over to Lizzie. I gotta go.

She came awake on a jerk, and he soothed her until she put her head on the pillow again. Ive got a date with a beautiful woman that I cant miss, he said.

Lizzie smiled in a sleepy, fuzzy way that made him want to stare at her forever. Tell her I said hello?

I will. He kissed her on the mouth. Im bringing you dinner to- night, by the way.

Will it be frozen?

No, hotternhell.

The smile she gave him went right through to his blood, cranking him up even though there was no time to do anything about it.

I lo" Lane stopped himself, knowing she wasnt going to like that good- bye. Ill see you at five oclock tonight.

Ill be here.

He kissed her one more time and then strode for the door.

Wait, what about your clothes? she called out.

They cant arrest me. The naughty bits are covered up.

Her laughter escorted him down her stairs and out of the house. And the sight of half that tree on top of her car made his heart skip a beat.

{ 344 }.

As he took a deep breath, his first instinct was to take out his phone and call Gary McAdams to remove the limb and get that crushed tin can of hers off to a scrapyard. But he stopped himself. Lizzie was not the kind of woman who would appreciate that sort of maneuvering. She would have her own contacts, her own idea of how to handle the prob- lem, her own plan for the Yaris.

Knowing her, she would try to get it back on its feet.

Shaking his head, he walked over to his car. The Porsche had very nearly been destroyed, too, the 911 missed by only a couple of feet. After clearing some leaves off the hood, he got in, juiced the engine, and made his way slowly down the lane, steering around the fallen branches and the divots in the dirt that were full of water. As soon as he hit the as- phalt, he made up for lost time, speeding toward Charlemont, ripping across the river, gunning his way up Easterlys hill.

He was halfway to the top when he had to slow because another car was coming down.

It was a Mercedes sedan. Black S550.

And behind the wheel, in huge dark sunglasses and a black veil like she was in mourning, was his soon- to- be ex- wife.

Chantal did not look over at him even though she knew damn well who she was passing.

Fine. With any luck, she was relocating and they could let the law- yers take it from here. God knew he had enough other stuff to worry about.

Leaving the Porsche out front, he went in through the main en- trance and paused when he saw the luggage in the foyer.

It wasnt Chantals. She had matching Louis Vuitton. This was Guc ci, and marked with the initials RIP.

Richard Ignatius Pford.

One asshole leaving, he thought. Another coming in.

What the hell was Gin thinking?

Oh, wait. He knew that answer. For a woman with little formal ed- ucation and no professional skills, his sister had one unassailable talent: taking care of herself.