How he'd managed it, Flynn hadn't a clue. Somehow, he'd driven himself home from the clinic, showered, and opened a beer. He wanted whiskey, a lot of it, but he settled for a long neck because Gabby was coming over. Him falling on the floor drunk probably wouldn't put her in the mood.
The image of her standing in the barn, eyes wide, body trembling, shoved into his mind again. Setting the beer down on the kitchen counter, he pressed his palms to his eyes and cursed. But the memory kept assaulting his brain, one after another.
Her demanding he stay where he was as if she would handle the threat. The way she'd inched toward the emergency bag while the mountain lion had her in its sights. How she'd paled and seemed to stop breathing when she'd fired the tranquillizer. And s**t. The point fi
