Protect Me (8 page)

“That sounds nice,” she replies without looking at me.
 

“What’s your dream?” I ask curiously.
 

Lia exhales and continues to stare off into the night. I start to think she’s not going to answer my question when she finally says, “Freedom. Safety. Roots. That’s what I want,” she whispers into the quietness surrounding us. I know those three little words mean so much more than their basic definitions. Lia is like a giant jigsaw puzzle that you don’t have the box to anymore. You can’t see the picture, and I’m working hard at putting the pieces together in their correct spots. With each piece that falls into place, I start to learn a little about the real Lia. I know that it’s going to take work to get it right, but damn it if I don’t love fucking puzzles.
 

“That’s a nice dream.” Lia doesn’t reply. “Lia,” I start and I sit forward and turn towards her. I take her hand that is still securely tucked within mine and turn her towards me. “This place is my safe haven. I know that when I’m here, nothing can bother me. Nothing can get me. I am safe. No one comes back here.” I stand up and pull her upright. I lead her towards the shed and grab the flashlight from its spot on the shelf by the doorway. I flip it on, bathing the room in light. I head towards the cot, finally letting go of her hand for the first time since we got here. I quickly squat down and retrieve the small locked box from underneath.
 

“This is a twenty-two pistol,” I say as I turn the dial on the locking mechanism. “Five-Eight-Two. That’s the combination,” I say as I line up the numbers and open the box. “It’s always loaded. Do you know how to use it?” I ask, looking at Lia for the first time since we entered the shed. Her eyes are wild. She stares down at the gun in my hand. Hell, I’m not sure if she’s breathing right now.
 

“Lia? Do you know how to shoot?” I push. She shakes her head from side to side. “Then we are going to come out here very soon and show you how, okay?” I place the gun inside the box and set the box on the cot. “Lia, I want you to know that if you ever need a place to go - a place that’s safe - you can come here. Anytime. Day or night. No questions asked. I will come for you. I promise. Okay?” I ask, urging her to acknowledge me.
 

She stares up at me, seriousness and fear lacing her beautiful features, and she shakes her head tentatively. I have no idea why I felt the need to show her the gun - to tell her about the safe haven of this place. But something twisted deep in my gut like a knife and told me that this woman needs this safety. Needs the reassurance. Needs the protection. And damn it if I’m not going to be the one to give it to her.
 

“Thank you,” she says as she slowly steps forward and into my broad chest. She fits perfectly. Like that damn puzzle piece. The top of her head hits just below my chin, and I snake my arms protectively around her lean body. I can feel the shivers rake through her, and I know it’s not from the dampness of the night. It’s fear. Fuck if that doesn’t make me want to go out of my damn mind, throwing punches and kicking ass.
 

Why in the hell is she so scared?
 

The possible reasons terrify me as much as my need to find that answers.
 

We stand together, locked in each other’s arms, for several minutes until Lia’s breathing becomes even again. I feel her hot breath against my chest and, damn, if it doesn’t make my heart beat a little faster. I swear she can probably feel my heart somersaulting around against her.
 

Lia finally pulls back and gazes up into my eyes. I can’t stop my hands as they slide up her back, across her shoulders, and caress up her neck. Her neck is
fucking fantastic. The desire to stroke, lick, and kiss it consumes me like a wildfire. I always thought of myself as an ass man, but holding Lia against me, my hands touching the soft, delicate skin of her neck, has me rethinking my entire stance on female body parts.
 

I watch as Lia’s eyes darken to a deep gray, almost black. Her sexy little mouth opens just a little and her breathing picks up. My eyes lock on those lush, pink lips, and before I can talk myself out of it, I lean forward, lightly rubbing my lips against hers. Just a little taste. I wait a breath for her to pull away or tell me to stop, and when it doesn’t come, I go in for the kill. My hands slide up her neck and hold her in place. My fingers caress her earlobes as I devour her mouth with my own, tipping her head upward to give me better access to her mouth. Her breath is as sweet as I imagined it would be. Her lips are soft and full and taste like honey. Her tongue is wicked as she slides it against mine. We battle with our mouths, pulling and pushing with just enough tenderness and force. It’s a damn awesome kiss.
 

The sound of Lia moaning into my mouth does two things. One, it makes my already hard cock scream for attention. It’s practically banging itself against my stomach and ripping through my jeans like The Hulk. Two, it slowly brings me back to the fact that we’re standing in my dad’s fishing shack and I’m kissing a girl who is fearful and anxious. The last thing I need is for
her to think I’m forcing myself onto her. She’s like a mouse, all scared and timid. I know I need to back this up a little, but damn, if these lips aren’t heaven on earth.
 

I slowly pull myself away from her. Her eyes remain closed and her lips are parted. She looks sexy as hell, and man, if I don’t want to go in for another kiss.
 

“I should probably get you back to your car,” I finally tell her. She slowly opens her eyes and the looks she gives me about knocks me on my ass. Her eyes are filled with lust. Not the kind of lust you see when you take home a date from the bar or a night out. No, this look is trusting and seductive. It’s fear of the unknown and excitement. Lia is so damn different.
 

I clear my throat and pull farther away. I drop my hands from her neck and turn to lock the gun in the safety box. Once it’s back in its place under the cot, I take Lia’s hand and lead her back outside. Night has completely fallen now and the only light is the glow of the almost full moon. I throw the chairs back inside the shed and lock the padlock. With Lia’s hand securely inside of mine again, I lead her towards the passenger side of my car. I don’t kiss her like I want to. I don’t want to push.
 

Slow. Take this slow.
 

I walk slowly around to my side of the car. I use my non-existent superpowers to will my hard-on to subside, but nothing seems to work. Not with Lia sitting right next to me. I start the ignition, throw the car in
reverse, and slowly make my way out of the path towards the highway.
 

After making sure the lock is secure on the main gate padlock, I head back towards town. We are both quiet the entire ten minute trip to town, but it’s not weird or anything. Neither of us say anything as we enjoy the quiet of the night. While I drive, Lia reaches over and links her fingers with mine. Instant calm washes over me as her warm skin presses against mine.
 

When I pull back into the lot next to the hardware store, I kill the engine and get out, taking my keys with me. Lia is already sliding out as I reach her side. We both stare at each other, neither one really knowing what to say.
 

Finally, I say, “Thank you for going to dinner with me.”
 

“Thank you for inviting me,” she replies with a small smile. God, I love that smile.
 

I reach down into my pocket and take out my keys. I remove the small padlock key and slip it into her hand. “Take this,” I tell her.
 

Her eyes drop down to examine the key she’s now holding. She gazes back up with questioning eyes. “If you ever need it. It’s safe,” I tell her.
 

She gives me a nod and places the key inside of the front pocket of her jeans. “Thank you,” she whispers.
 

“I want you to call me if you ever need me,” I
say.
 

“I don’t have your number,” she replies with a slight curve of her mouth.
 

I reach for my phone and pull up a new text message. “What’s your number?” I ask, keying it in as she recites the digits. As soon as I hit send and return my phone into my pocket, I reply, “There. Now you have it.”
 

Her phone dings within her purse. She gives me a small knowing smile, leans up on her tiptoes, and brushes those soft, sweet lips against mine. I close my eyes and just absorb the feel of her mouth against mine. I soak it up like a dry sponge. Man, do I love her lips.
 

She pulls away before I can even respond to the kiss. “Thank you.”
 

“You already said that,” I respond as I feel myself being sucked into those stunning eyes.
 

“And I really mean it,” she says.
 

“Good night, Lia.”
 

“Good night, Nate,” she says as she steps away and gets into her car. I watch her start her car and eventually pull out of the empty parking lot. She gives me one last glance and a little wave over her shoulder as she pulls onto the road.
 

I watch until her brake lights completely disappear before I slide back in my car. I head towards home, only thinking about supple, warm lips and deep, intoxicating eyes. I adjust my pants one more time
before pulling into my driveway.
 

Contentment washes over me as I stroll up my stairs to the front door. Something felt right about taking Lia to my place. Knowing that she knows about the safe place and can go there whenever she needs to brings me a little comfort. I’ll get another key tomorrow from my dad.
 

Tonight, it’s a cold shower and dreams of the first woman to get under my skin since Jill. Every time I close my eyes, I want to see the sway of her hips, the curve of her neck, and the feel of her body pressed against mine.
 

Tonight, I will dream about Lia.
 

I’ve talked myself in and out of going to the Stevens family dinner about two dozen times already today. Right now, I’m going. But there is still thirty minutes left before I am scheduled to be at their house for their weekly Sunday dinner. Plenty of time to change my mind. Again.
 

My family – if you can really even call a grumpy old man who resents my existence
family
– well, it sucks. I’ve spent most of my entire life being quiet, blending in, and trying to survive. My mother was a seventeen year old high school dropout who found herself pregnant with an unwanted child. And the best part – she has no idea who my dad is. Joe? Jack? Dominic? Bill? Take your pick.
 

My grandmother died before I was born. Apparently, home life was fairly normal before Sylvia Bryant’s death. My mom was a flourishing high school student and my grandpa, Stan, was devoted to his wife and child. He worked full time providing for his family, ensuring that there was plenty of food, a roof over their head, and all the necessities they could possibly need.
 

Then tragedy struck. My grandmother was
diagnosed with stage four breast cancer and almost lived long enough for my mother to complete the last three months of her freshman year of high school. My grandpa turned to booze to cope with her death, leaving my mom to fend for herself. Mom, apparently, turned to drugs and sex. Grandpa wasn’t home, Mom partied, and nine months later, I arrived.
 

I have no baby photos. I have no mementos of my childhood. I have memories of my disappointed grandpa telling me how much my mom and I ruined his life. I guess I should be grateful that Mom stuck around until I was almost two, but I’m not really. And to make matters worse, I can count on one hand how many times I’ve seen her since she walked out that door and hopped on the back of some dude’s Harley.
 

I was raised by my grandpa. I learned to scavenge for food from the measly contents of the fridge and cabinets, do the wash, and pick up the house by the time I was in grade school. Grandpa left for the factory at six-thirty in the morning and headed straight to the bar after work. He pissed all of his money away on alcohol and whatever quick fix he could get his hands on while I was at home getting whatever assistance I could get from the after-school specials on television.
 

I have no clue if the old man actually loved me. He never said if he really did. I assume he did not. I have never felt like I was loved, only a burden to others. My mother left her mess at his doorstep and never
looked back.
 

But, I adapted. I was strong enough to get by. I survived.
 

I glance up at the clock on the wall and realize that it’s already four-fifteen. Fifteen minutes until I’m supposed to be at the Stevens. I grab my small purse and head towards the front door. After locking the door and heading down the steep stairs, I contemplate talking myself out of going…again.
 

Going to the Stevens house for dinner does not mean I’m opening myself up. It does not mean I’m opening myself up, letting people in, or will be found. It means I’m hungry and Mrs. Stevens offered me dinner. That’s it. Simple. End of story. The end.
 

As I slide down into my hot seat, I know that I’m making more out of this dinner invite than necessary. My new boss and her family invited me to dinner. I will go and enjoy their company for a couple of hours and then return to my quiet, safe little apartment above the bakery. I throw my beat-up, used car in reverse and head towards the Stevens’ house.
 

I wonder if Nate will be there.
 

I pull into the long driveway, following the directions that Mrs. Stevens wrote down, with one minute to spare. As I turn off the ignition, I close my eyes and take a deep calming breath.
In and out.