A faint cry for help drew TJ’s attention. He stood up, walked over to his office window, and peered out. What he saw drew a litany of vicious curses.
Hurriedly, he streaked out the front door, rushing to where the post office truck stood almost parallel parked on the street in front of the office. The tires were straight, pointing downhill. In front stood Donovan with both hands braced against the front of the car, his feet spread, one behind the other. The muscles in his arms stood out even under his loose T-shirt, testifying to the power he was using to hold the vehicle in place.
Leaping into action, TJ jumped into the driver’s seat side, slammed the gear into park, then set the emergency brake. As a side thought, he turned the steering wheel so the tires aimed toward the curb. He step
