His to Protect: A Fireside Novel (9 page)

BOOK: His to Protect: A Fireside Novel
7.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Trina.” His voice sounded strained as he pulled his wrist out of my grasp. He brushed hair off my forehead in a way that made me lean into his touch. So soft. So gentle.

So much the opposite of how I’d been touched for the last several years that I felt my body craving that tenderness even though I knew I shouldn’t desire it.

“Not sure that’s a good idea,” Declan said, his thick voice a bit raspy.

“Please,” I whispered again, opening my eyes to see him. The outline of his body was barely visible in the darkened room, and slightly blurred because of my sleepiness.

After what seemed like several minutes passing, Declan finally nodded. I shifted on the bed and then watched as he fumbled with the button and zipper of his jeans. He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to me, and removed them.

The bed dipped as he lay down next to me, his T-shirt still on, and rolled toward my side. One of his arms slid under me and he pulled me to him until my head rested on his shoulder. His hand settled on my lower back, and I felt the warmth of his light but still possessive touch soak into my skin through my shirt.

His other hand rested on his stomach.

Closing my eyes, I shifted my body against him, trying to get as close as possible. His whole body was tense, rigid.

My body felt like it was waking up for possibly the first time.

We lay there silently while tension rippled in the air around us, both of us feeling it, neither of us acknowledging it.

I had almost been lulled back to sleep by the slow movement of his chest as he breathed, when he turned his head toward me and brushed his lips across my forehead.

“Go to sleep, Trina. We won’t let him hurt you.”

I pulled in my last deep breath before sleep claimed me, and fell asleep knowing that Declan believed his own words 110 percent.

I fell asleep cradled in Declan’s embrace, feeling safer with this almost-stranger than I had since the day I said “I do.”

I fell asleep with my life a mess, my future unclear, but I knew one thing for certain. I never wanted this feeling to fade.

Ever.

But when I woke up?

I was all alone.

Just like always.

Chapter 9
Declan

I hadn’t slept since Trina curled herself into me and fell asleep quickly after.

I hadn’t been able to close my eyes without feeling pure rage.

I could only take so much time being next to her, breathing in her soft, clean scent, and touching the delicate curves of her body.

I had to fight the urge to run my hand down her side, feeling her curves. My fingers itched to explore her body, to travel beneath the layers of clothing separating my skin from hers. Between the warmth of her body, the slow rise and dip of her chest, and the way she had practically pleaded with me to stay with her, I couldn’t stop having inappropriate thoughts of inappropriate things I wanted to do to her.

Hours after she fell asleep, her quiet, little puffs of breath hitting my chest and driving me to the brink of doing something insane—like waking her up and covering her skin with kisses—I finally pulled myself away from her, careful not to wake her, and got the hell out of there.

Making only a whistling noise to get Boomer’s attention where he slept on the floor by Trina’s side of the bed, I shut her door quietly behind us. For a dopey-looking dog that generally seemed to care only about chasing squirrels and filling his stomach with food, he guarded her well.

As Boomer trudged behind me, the sound of our steps on the carpet the only noise in the house, I carefully made my way through the darkened living room and into the kitchen. I started a pot of coffee, knowing that if I hadn’t fallen asleep yet, I most likely wouldn’t at all.

Scratching sounds came from behind me and I looked to see Boomer clawing at the sliding door. I opened it just enough for him to slip through and flicked on the backyard porch light so I could see him. My yard was fenced, but the fence was only three feet high. If Boomer was ever motivated enough, he could easily clear it. As I closed the door, I jumped back from the quick rush of cool air breezing inside, chilling me to my bones.

It was September and already getting too cold for shorts. It was times like this I thought my parents had it right. Move south. Visit the North to escape the dastardly evil summer heat down there, but avoid the snow at all costs.

Thinking of my mom made me grin. I hadn’t talked to her much recently and I knew she’d have a lot of opinions when she learned I’d invited a woman into my home.

She never liked Mara, but never said anything. It was simply obvious with her quiet hums of displeasure, or the looks she’d shoot my dad when Mara and I were around them. At the time, I figured it was just because I was the baby of the family, the last to settle down, and my mom was having a hard time letting go.

Now I knew it was just her sixth sense about the eventual destruction of our relationship. Moms really did know everything.

Except for Trina’s.

My lips curled into a growl as I walked back to the kitchen and filled my coffee mug with fresh coffee.

That woman. What I wouldn’t give to demand she apologize to her daughter for forcing her to live through something so vile. She had thrown her daughter to the wolves for money, and I found it difficult to summon any compassion for her, even if she did it because of her illness.

My mother would never do anything like that. She’d given up her career to stay home and raise us as soon as my older brother was born. She lived through raising two boys—two hell-raising, football- and hockey-playing sons—with a husband who was just another large kid to take care of. Yet she never seemed to mind. In fact, she always said that looking back, the best days of her life were when her laundry room was overflowing with sweaty socks and piles of sports equipment.

If my mom were to get sick like Trina’s had, I had no doubt she’d move heaven and earth to see that my brother and I were taken care of, even if it was at her own expense. She was just that kind of mom.

If it wasn’t so damn early, or the middle of the night in Arizona, I’d pick up the damn phone and call her just to let her know how much I loved her.

Yeah…I might be a bit of a mama’s boy.

That was only because she showed her family what love was.

I was an idiot who settled, far too soon, for a woman I let pull the wool over my eyes because her pussy tasted sweet.

I sneered and looked outside to see Boomer meandering back to the door. I met him there, quickly slid the door open, and closed it behind him when he came in. He gave me a dopey look. I swear he was almost grinning as I fed him.

I left the kitchen to the sounds of Boomer slopping up his food while I went to the living room and turned on the news.

But as hard as I tried to erase the thoughts about what Trina told us that were still clamoring inside my brain, it was entirely futile.

I had completely misjudged her when I first saw her and when I first invited her into my home. Even with the fading, fancy hair color and the polished, manicured nails, she was nothing like Mara.

Trina might have had money, but the more she spoke last night, the more she seemed to loathe her wealth. At the very least, she despised what it could do to people.

I should have known from the first night I saw her.

No woman who looked like her, who had the money she clearly did, dug through a dumpster to find her dog dinner.

Now that I knew the truth, had seen her for who she really was, I wasn’t sure I could stay away.

I was definitely sure I didn’t want to.

There was something about this woman, with her southern drawl and kind eyes, that made me despise any man who would lay his hands on her.

She was the kind of woman you cherish.

The kind of woman you wanted to protect.

And hell if I didn’t want to do both of those…while also acquainting my hands with her soft and curvy flesh.

I didn’t even care if it was the right time to start something with her. She had loads of baggage I would need to help her unpack, and that had nothing to do with the duffel bag she was trying to haul out of here last night when I returned home.

But as I sat and stared at the early-morning news broadcast, not actually hearing anything I was watching, I no longer gave a shit.

No good relationship was without its share of troubles.

We’d just have to fight our battles early on and hope for smooth sailing later.


My breathing was ragged when I finished my morning run. I had used all the frustration inside me and pushed myself harder and faster than I usually did. It was necessary, and the results were worth it.

I no longer felt like slamming my fists into something hard and unforgiving as I unlocked the front door to my house.

Before Trina, I would have left it unlocked.

Since Trina began staying with me, I was doing a lot of things differently.

Like keep her safe, as if it were some inherent instinct inside of me. Knowing the truth about who she was, where she came from, and what she’d endured only strengthened that desire inside of me.

Fortunately, she told us that Kevin had only called her phone number and goaded her by asking if she really thought she could run away from him. Since she also told us that she had ditched her old cellphone and bought the pay-as-you-go phone before she left Kentucky, there was still a good chance he didn’t have a clue where she could be.

I’d managed to get her to agree to stay until Tyson could look into things a bit further, to figure out if Kevin really knew where she was.

I was careful to open the front door quietly, in case she was still sleeping. It was early, before seven, and I’d learned that Trina was not a morning person. She often zombie-walked her way down the stairs around nine.

Between the stress she was under and being at Fireside until the early morning hours, I figured her body needed to adjust to a new routine.

Plus, I suspected sleeping in wasn’t possible for her before. From what she’d said, she had been expected to wait on her husband for every one of his needs and wants or face the consequences.

I believed her, too. Not only did she not have a reason to lie to us last night, but the fear in her eyes was evident as she relived some of the times where Kevin used a hand, or foot, to reprimand her.

The thought made me growl and, at the last second, I thrust the door open harder than necessary, making it bang against the wall.

I cringed at the sound and then at Boomer’s bark as he barreled around the corner from the kitchen straight into me.

His front paws hit my chest, forcing me to brace myself to keep from taking a step back.

“Boomer!” Trina shouted from the kitchen.

“I’ve got him,” I called back. With my hand on the top of his head, I gave him a playful shove. “Down, boy.”

“Woof!”

His tongue lolled to one side of his mouth as he pranced in place, waiting impatiently for me to shut the door. When I turned back to him, dropping my phone, earbuds, and keys on the small table with the ugly purple bowl, I rubbed his head again. “I’ve already fed you,” I told the dog, and walk passed him.

The rich scent of bacon assailed my senses and my stomach growled. I generally had a protein shake before I headed out for my run and workout, but this morning I had extra adrenaline to burn off and I didn’t waste the time.

I was not only starving, but sweating like a beast.

The shower could wait, I decided as I headed toward the kitchen.

When I got to the doorway, I was stunned speechless when I saw Trina at the stove, frying bacon wearing a tight, fitted tank top and a pair of even tighter shorts. She twisted to place bacon on a plate, and I could see her leg muscles flex.

Words lodged in my throat. She was sexy. Curves and muscles in all the right places. My fingers itched to trace the line of her exposed collarbone down her arms to her fingertips to the inside of her wrist where I wanted to feel her pulse. Would it race as fast as mine currently was?

“Good morning,” I barked out, sounding rude and rougher than normal.

“Morning,” she muttered, keeping her eyes fixed on her task.

Bacon grease spit into the air, and I knew she was concentrating, but I still scowled when she refused to look in my direction.

It had been a couple of days since I’d seen that tightness in her shoulders, or the way she avoided me.

“You okay?” I asked and walk past her for a fresh cup of coffee. The pot was full again, which meant she recently brewed some more. “You had a rough night last night.”

I watched her back.

“Yeah. Sure.” She paused and looked at me over her shoulder. “Why? Did I say anything?”

I sipped my coffee and shook my head. “No. Do you normally?”

She turned around and I watched as one shoulder lifted then fell. “Sometimes.” She reached out and turned off the burner, plating the rest of the bacon. “Bacon’s ready if you’re hungry.”

Still without meeting my eyes, she wiped her hands on a towel and turned to leave the room.

My kitchen was small and U-shaped. With one adult, there was barely room to move around. With two adults and a large oaf of a dog, we should have been tripping over each other. Instead, she was trying to keep as much distance as possible between us.

“Trina?”

She paused but still didn’t face me.

My brows knit together as I tried to figure out why she was avoiding me.

Whatever the reason, I didn’t like it.

“You avoiding me?”

“No. Of course not.”

Her cheeks flushed pink and her gaze dropped. The involuntary actions belied her words and I set my mug down, taking a step toward her.

“You embarrassed about last night?” I asked.

“No. I don’t care that you know about Kevin.”

“I’m not talking about Kevin, sweetheart,” I whispered, and unable to stop myself, I lifted my hand to press her hair behind her ear. Small bumps prickled on the side of her neck and I watched her body’s reaction to me, even as she tried to fight it.

But she was fighting it.

Which meant the attraction wasn’t one-sided.

Something warm, like pride, or the thrill of a victory, surged inside my chest.

“I’m talking about me sleeping next to you in your bed.”

She made a choking sound and looked toward the dining area. Away from me.

I didn’t know if I should push this or not, but I did. I didn’t think it was embarrassing at all that not only did she need me last night, but that she’d had the guts to ask. She might have been half-asleep and not fully aware of what she was doing, which might be a blow to my ego if I believed it.

Luckily, I have a large ego—among other things.

“Why should that embarrass me?” she asked, her voice slightly scratchy. The pink was back in full bloom on her cheeks and my hand, which had been resting behind her ear, moved until I brushed her cheekbone with my thumb.

“It shouldn’t,” I told her. “And if you’re embarrassed, or upset that you woke up alone, it’s only because you felt so good in my arms and next to me that I had to leave before I did something we might regret.”

“You…” Another garbled sound escaped her throat before she looked up. “What did you say?”

I chuckled softly, just once, and slid my hand down to cup the side of her throat. My fingertips pressed gently into the skin at the back of her neck, holding her firmly.

“I’m attracted to you, Trina, and I like you. I also know you had a lot of emotional stuff to deal with last night, and you have to deal with your husband, too. I’m not pushing anything”—I paused and grinned—“yet. But I want you to know that I want to explore something with you, and lying next to you all night, your warm, tight body against mine, not pushing you into something you might not want, or might not be ready for, had my self-control at its limit.”

She blinked several times and her lips parted.

She looked so damn cute, so utterly confused. I had the urge to kiss her. Here. Now.

But I didn’t.

I took a step back and then another before I turned and reached for my coffee. When I looked back at her, she was finally snapping her mouth closed.

I shrugged and took a sip of coffee. “Just think about it. Let me know what you decide. No pressure.”

BOOK: His to Protect: A Fireside Novel
7.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Losing Control by Desiree Wilder
The Overlap by Costa, Lynn
Betrayal by Vanessa Kier
Dog-Gone Mystery by Gertrude Chandler Warner
Once and for All by Jeannie Watt
El comendador Mendoza by Juan Valera
Vampires Don't Sparkle! by Michael West
Pregnant Pause by Han Nolan