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Chapter 405
Chapter 405:
“Since the delivery is complete and we are both already here,” Easton said, leaning forward slightly, his eyes locking onto hers, “I hope you won’t object to sharing dinner with me, Dr. Erickson p>
He had trapped her flawlessly. It was impossible to say no.
“Fine,” June said, shaking her head with a smile.
The dinner was spectacular. Easton was sharp, witty, and deeply attentive. He did not mention Cole. He did not mention the divorce. He simply made her laugh until her ribs ached.
Two hours later, they walked out of the restaurant into the crisp night air. Easton carried the pet carrier in his left hand as they moved toward the quiet intersection. The pedestrian light glowed white.
June stepped off the curb.
A massive, deafening roar shattered the stillness of the street.
A heavily modified, matte-black motorcycle blew through the red light, swerving violently around a stopped cab, its tires shrieking against the asphalt. The bike fishtailed and lost control, hurtling directly toward June.
Everything happened in a fraction of a second.
R𝘦𝘢𝗱 𝘧𝗋𝗼𝗆 𝘺𝗈u𝘳 р𝗁𝗈𝗇е 𝗼𝘯
June’s brain registered the blinding headlight, but her muscles refused to obey. Her lungs seized.
Before she could even gasp, a massive force struck her from the side.
Easton dropped the pet carrier. He lunged forward with explosive, violent speed, his long, muscular arm wrapping around her waist like a band of solid steel — his hand carefully avoiding her injured left shoulder. He yanked her backward with crushing force, spinning his body to use his broad back as a shield, and slammed June against the cold brick wall of the building, covering her smaller frame entirely with his own.
The motorcycle screamed past. Its heavy metal footpeg scraped against the brick wall, missing Easton’s spine by less than two inches.
The bike crashed into a fire hydrant down the block with a sickening crunch. A plume of steam and water erupted into the night air.
June was pinned against the wall. A sharp jolt of pain flared through her healing collarbone from the impact, but the overwhelming surge of adrenaline masked it completely. Her cheek was pressed against Easton’s hard chest, and through the cashmere sweater she could hear the frantic, heavy hammering of his heart.
The rich, intoxicating scent of his cedarwood cologne and raw adrenaline flooded her senses.
His arm was still wrapped tightly around her waist, crushing her against him. The physical contact was overwhelming — the most absolute, all-consuming sense of safety she had ever known. Her own heart raced, beating so fast it felt like a bird trapped against her ribs. A hot flush spread rapidly across her skin.
Easton was breathing heavily. He slowly, reluctantly loosened his grip. Down the avenue, the faint wail of approaching police sirens began to cut through the night. His sharp legal mind instantly calculated the exhausting hours of statements and media leaks that would follow if they stayed.
He looked back down at her.
“Let’s get you away from here,” he murmured, his voice low and urgent.
He pulled back just enough to look at her face. The distance between their lips was dangerously, electrically small.