Free Delicious by Jami Alden Page B

part of San Francisco, but not unheard of. Even if he was high, Reggie imagined he’d come in for cigarettes, a snack, or even a beer to take the edge off whatever he was on. Clearly, Gabe took himself and his job way too seriously, seeing goblins around every corner.
    Rolling her eyes, she grabbed a pack of Ding Dongs. Yanking her arm from Gabe’s hold, she stalked up to the cash register.
    “Get down!”
    Reggie barely registered Gabe’s roar before his full two hundred plus pounds hit her with all the finesse of a linebacker on Super Bowl Sunday. Before she could grunt in protest, he rolled off her, his body a blur of motion as his long legs swept out, knocking the junkie to the floor.
    Something clattered down the magazine aisle. A gun, Reggie realized to her horror.
    By the time she tore her shocked gaze from the weapon, Gabe had the guy’s arm twisted into an obviously painful—judging from the guy’s screams—hold, while his knee was planted in the middle of the junkie’s skinny back.
    Barely breathing hard, Gabe calmly instructed the cashier to call the police.

Chapter Five
    “C ome on, Reggie, you can’t tell me that you didn’t think it was a little sexy, the way Gabe took that guy down.” Natalie was perched on the corner of Reggie’s bed, watching her pack for her six-week stint on the road filming her new show.
    Reggie threw another pair of running shorts into her monstrously oversized wheelie bag. “Honestly, it was a little scary. Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad he saved me from getting mugged and the store from being robbed, but he’s definitely overqualified for what I need. Besides,” she continued, shoving another pair of boots to the bottom of her bag, “you should have seen the way he embarrassed me in front of that poor woman at Whole Foods. Between that and the news coverage the robbery attempt received, people are going to think I habitually surround myself with thugs.”
    “I still don’t think you should have fired him.”
    “I didn’t fire him, Natalie. I told him his services would no longer be needed. Which would be true anyway since I’m leaving tomorrow.” And she’d been polite about it. After they’d arrived at her apartment, she’d calmly thanked him for protecting her from the gun-wielding drug addict and written him a check.
    “What if you need his help again?”
    Reggie blew out a scoffing breath. “Doubtful. And even if I did, I still think Gabe is overqualified for what I need.” When she’d met him in Hawaii, Reggie had sensed an air of intensity, danger even, surrounding Gabe. But last night, he’d gone from mildly irritating to absolutely lethal in a matter of seconds. She had no doubt that if he’d been inclined, he could have killed that guy with his bare hands. As sexy as she found Gabe, she feared the reality of him was more than she was capable of handling. She should thank her lucky stars that he had no interest in getting involved.
    So why had she spent the past two days trying to come up with an excuse to call him again?
    “Besides,” Reggie continued, “I’ll be gone for six weeks. Plenty of time for Mr. Balls to forget about me and set his sights on some other victim.”
    “He can still watch your show.”
    “But he can’t get to me.”
    “Bullshit,” Natalie said, then paused to study the sweater Reggie had just thrown into her suitcase. “You’re not taking that sweater.”
    “Why not?”
    “I thought the idea was to take mostly stuff you can wear on camera.”
    “Yeah?” Reggie added a slate-blue cotton/lycra button-down and yet another pair of black pants to the mix.
    “Reg, a thick wool cable-knit sweater will make you look like a burly fishwife on camera. Take it out.”
    Reggie rolled her eyes, but took the sweater out. As much as Natalie’s comments about her size needled, more often than not she was right. Natalie rarely said anything deliberately cruel or insulting, but she had no qualms about reminding Reggie that