Protect Me: Oakville Series:Book Three (10 page)

F
OR THE
last two months, I’ve been staying at this little motel, but today, I move into my new apartment. Actually, it’s my first apartment. I’ve never lived alone before. I’ve never had anything I could call my own until now. It’s a small place, but it’s very nice and comes furnished. There are four apartments in the building. The landlord said a young couple who just got married lives in the one directly upstairs from me. The other two apartments are occupied by hot, single guys around my age. Poor lady, she thinks she’s being nice and doing me a favor by pointing out the available hot men. A normal twenty-three year old would be thrilled by the idea of two hot guys living in the same building, but men, romance, and dating are the last things on my mind. After what I’ve been through, I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for any kind of relationship again.

A month ago, I was hired as a waitress at KC’s Bar & Grille. Kyle, the owner, really seems like he’ll be a descent boss. He just bought the place and is remodeling. There’s about a month left before the place is ready to open. It’s actually turned out to be a good thing. I was able to use the time to find the apartment and get myself adjusted to being in this new town.

One night, a couple weeks ago, I found the plastic bag from the hospital that held my belongings from the night I was brought in. Tanya must have stuffed it in the duffel bag when she was helping me get ready to leave. As I pulled the clothes out and noticed the enormous bloodstains, I almost got sick. The memories of that night hit me full force. The blood stains a reminder of how brutal his beating was. He had two objectives that night: cause me as much pain as possible and kill our baby. Sadly, I allowed him to succeed in doing both. No longer will I be that weak woman who doesn’t stand up and protect herself or the ones she loves. I may have learned that lesson the hard way, but at least I learned it.

I was surprised to also find my wedding ring in there. I didn’t want anything that belonged to Ray. Not anything he bought, owned, or gave me. Which is why I left with nothing but the signed divorce papers. I couldn’t very well send it back to him and I sure as hell didn’t want it for sentimental reasons, so I drove to the nearest pawn shop and sold it. At least now I’ll have a nice little savings to fall back on if I need it. I also splurged a little and bought some new clothes and things I needed for the apartment.

Pulling into the parking lot of the apartment building, I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. My first apartment.
Wow.
I still can’t believe it. I quickly park as close to the building as I can and prop open the front door of the building so I can easily get in while carrying boxes and bags. As I open my trunk, I’m overwhelmed by fluttering sensations in my stomach. I can’t wait to get the car unloaded so I can set up my new place. I want to know what it feels like to be able to hang a picture where I want it, or place the glasses in the cabinet next to the sink because that’s where I like them. Never have I been in control over anything in my life. Ray told me what to wear, cook, how to clean, and pretty much anything else he could give me instructions on. It’s a miserable way to live, always wondering whether you’re doing everything correctly, never having the freedom to do anything the way you enjoy. From now on, everything is going to be done the way I want.

Loading my arms so full that I can’t see in front of me, I make my way to the door. Thankfully, I have the downstairs apartment. If I were upstairs, I could just see it now...me tripping with all this shit in my arms, falling down the stairs, and breaking my damn neck. Yeah, that’s how my luck usually works. Maybe this is a new start in more ways than one. Suddenly, I collide with a wall. I’m thrown backwards, everything in my arms flying into the air as I fall flat on my back, hitting my head on the hard concrete sidewalk.
Then again, maybe my luck hasn’t changed at all.

I lay there for a minute with my eyes closed, trying to will away the throbbing radiating through my skull. Slowly, I open my eyes, praying there’s nobody else around. How embarrassing would
that
be? The vision that appears before me makes me think I’m either dreaming or I hit that wall really fucking hard and I’m dead. The face moving toward mine is that of an angel. A gorgeous angel whose beautiful green eyes seem to be looking right into my soul. A chill runs up my spine and my heart is about to beat right out of my chest. Then, he smiles. I’ve heard some of the girls at Worthington House mention panty melting smiles before and I always thought it was the stupidest saying. No longer do I feel that way. This man’s smile awakens thoughts and desires I thought were long gone. When his smile widens to show a set of very lickable dimples, I realize I’m just staring at him with my mouth wide open. Then, he lets out a small, sexy chuckle.
My God!

“Are you okay? You really should be more careful and watch where you’re walking,” he jokes as he bends so his eyes are level with mine. I’m still in a daze. Not only from the blow to the head, but from this beautiful specimen of a man standing in front of me. His hand moves toward my face and when his skin makes contact with mine, every nerve in my body begins to spark. Gently, he pushes up on my chin, closing my gaping mouth. “Seriously, are you okay? Should I take you to a hospital?” His smile fades, replaced with a genuinely concerned look.

Jesus, Holly, get it together!
This is not like me. What is it about this guy that has me acting like an idiot? I mentally shake off my stupid behavior and get myself together. The last thing I need is to start thinking with my meat wallet. I probably wouldn’t remember how it works anyway. I’m an idiot. That’s all this is. It’s been so long since I’ve been satisfied correctly and I see this very attractive guy and my hormones go crazy. I was a little nervous thinking there might be this weird spark of feelings between us. That’s not something I want to deal with. But out of control hormones? That, I can handle. That’s why they make vibrators. After making a mental note to go online and order one, I decide it’s time to get up off the ground. If I stay here any longer in silence, the poor guy is gonna call an ambulance.

“I’m okay,” I squeak out, attempting to stand. Once I straighten myself up, my vision gets blurry and I wobble on my legs. Before I tumble back to the ground again, strong arms scoop me up off the ground. Again, the instant our bodies touch, my pulse picks up, my skin is on fire, and my lady parts are tingling. Damn, is it really possible to be this horny? I’ve never experienced feelings like this before. Not even as a teenager when I first met Ray, before I knew the evil he hid so well. He starts walking toward the front door of the apartment building and I can’t help but wonder where the hell he’s taking me.

“I assume you’re the new tenant in 2A?” he questions with a distressed look on his face. Is he really that worried about me? There’s something about him that’s so sad. It’s in his eyes as clear as day, the pain he carries with him. He’s been hurt badly. “Are you still with me, doll-face?” His voice makes me realize that I’ve been zoning out again. Being around this guy flips the stupid switch on in my brain.

“Uh. Yeah. I am,” I mumble. He stares at me like he’s waiting for something more, but I don’t have a fucking clue as to what it could be.

“Do you have your keys? It would make it a whole lot easier to get in your door,” he teases with a laugh and that sexy as hell smile.

“I see not only do you make a good wall but you’re also an aspiring comedian,” I tease back. Oddly, I feel very comfortable around this stranger… well, aside from the raging hormones. That’s a little disconcerting. He’s tall, six-two, maybe six-three, and very muscular. Not overly so, just enough to make you want to lick every one of them very slowly. Then, there’s the tattoos. For some reason those always make people think trouble, but not me. Done right, tats can not only be sexy on a man, but also tell you a lot about him. Nothing about this man screams danger to me. It’s those eyes of his. They seem to speak to me. Telling me he’s kind and gentle. That he loves fiercely and he protects those he loves. The broken and sad part of him that shows through is what makes me so curious about him, though. What could possibly have happened to him to leave such a haunting look in those beautiful eyes?

“Are you always such a smartass or is this a result of the head injury?” he retorts. I pull my keys from the front pocket of my jeans. I’m expecting him to put me down so I can unlock my door, but he’s still holding me securely against his chest. I look at him and then to the ground, thinking he’ll get the hint. He does, he’s just not going for it. Still holding me tight, he somehow removes one arm, grabs my keys, and unlocks my front door.
How the hell…?
“What can I say? I’m a very talented guy,” he says with a smirk when he sees the confused look on my face.

“And full of yourself. Don’t forget that one,” I reply as he gently sets me down on my sofa. My pulse picks up when he sits close to me and places his hands on both sides of my face. He’s staring right into my eyes. Is he going to try to kiss me? Shit. What do I do? The last thing I want or need is any kind of romantic or sexual relationship. Plus, we don’t even know each other’s names.

“Seems like you might like to be filled with me, by the way you’re looking at me,” he boasts with a laugh, then turns my head so he can examine the back for any cuts or bumps. Did he really just say that out loud? Worse yet, have I really been looking at him like I want him to jump me? Heat flames my cheeks and my eyes are probably as big as serving trays. Thankfully, I’m not facing him. God knows I don’t need him to see my reaction. I just don’t know if I’m more angry or embarrassed. Probably a little of both. That is, until he opens his mouth.

“Don’t be embarrassed doll-face. I have that effect on most women. It’s not your fault.” I turn so I can see whether he’s teasing or serious. Sure enough, he’s fucking serious. He really thinks he’s every woman’s fantasy. Well, not this woman. There’s no way I’m going to stroke his ego…or anything else, for that matter.

“Don’t flatter yourself. That’s the last thing I’m interested in. Even if I were, I wouldn’t want it from you. No offense, but you’re just not my type.” He laughs and comes closer to me. He brings his lips as close to my ear as he can get without touching me. The instant his hot breath touches my earlobe, goose bumps cover every inch of me. My breathing becomes rapid and I silently curse my body for reacting to him.

“I’m every woman’s type,” he whispers in my ear. Before I can respond, he stands up and walks to the door. “You should put some ice on that nasty bump you have. I’ll go grab the guys and we’ll get your boxes brought in for you.” Again, he doesn’t give me a chance to respond or protest before the door closes behind him.

While I’m getting some ice for my head, I can’t help but laugh. I still don’t even know this man’s name, yet I feel like I’ve known him my entire life. I have an awfully strong feeling he will test every ounce of willpower I possess. Thank God I’ll be busy working and won’t have too much time to be running into him.