Page 8 of Rescuing His Forever

“I’ve never had anyone care about me like this before,” I admit. “I don’t know how to handle... all of... this.” I gesture vaguely up and down his body, which earns me the tiniest smirk. God, that’s dangerous. I can’t imagine what his actual smile would do to me.

“Right now, all I need you to do is grab a bag and get some clothes and whatever you’ll need for a few days. You’ll stay with me until we figure out who is behind this.”

I open my mouth to protest, but Keaton gives me a look that has the words dying on my lips.

“Let me protect you,” Keaton says as he slips his hands from beneath mine. He stands, holding out his hand once again for me. I take it, surprised when he tugs me into his arms, wrapping me up in a hug. I melt into his embrace, and he squeezes me, holding all my broken pieces and confusing thoughts together. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

Oh, lord, I’m falling for my big, burly, and unexpectedly sweet bodyguard. I just hope this doesn’t end in heartbreak.

Chapter 5

Keaton

Mine.

The word settles deep in my chest and expands outward, filling every empty space in my heart. Roxy is curled into my embrace as I hold her close with one hand on her lower back. My other hand gently strokes her silky black hair, hoping to soothe her fears.

“Let’s get you packed up,” I say softly, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. “The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

Roxy nods and slowly untangles herself from me. I don’t like it. I can’t fathom how I’ve lived on this planet for thirty-seven years without the curvy little goddess by my side.

I watch the woman I’m falling for wander around her small living space, picking up a few things here and there and then placing them down somewhere else. She looks so fragile at this moment, so lost and vulnerable. Her face is pale, and she’s barely holding back tears. I hate seeing her like this. Where did the confident, brilliant, charismatic woman from this morning’s presentation go? I vow to bring her back and vanquish her fears for good.

“Here,” I say, trying to keep my tone even so as not to startle her.

I hand her an empty backpack I found lying on top of a pile of clothes. Roxy takes the backpack and blankly stares at it. My poor girl is about to crash from the adrenaline rush. It’s all too much for her, but she doesn’t know how to ask for help.

I walk over to the dresser in the corner of her studio apartment, which has been turned over on its side. Shuffling through the pieces of clothing, I pick out a few outfits that will have to tide Roxy over until we can go shopping.

Making my way back over to my girl, my heart breaks when I see she’s stuck in the same position, holding the backpack and staring into space. I slowly approach Roxy, wrapping my hand around hers and helping her hold the backpack open while I place the clothes inside.

“Th-thanks,” she murmurs on a shaky breath.

“Why don’t you grab some toiletries from the bathroom while I call the police?”

“Police?” This seems to startle Roxy out of her trance. “That’s not necessary.”

“Your home was broken into,” I tell her sternly. “And we know who was behind it. That letter needs to go to forensics so they can run tests and figure out who sent it. Don’t you want that?”

Roxy pauses and then eventually nods, though she looks defeated and exhausted. Her phone rings, startling both of us. “Crap,” she says under her breath. “It’s work. I’ve been gone for almost an hour now.”

“I’ll call the office and let them know you’ll be taking the rest of the day off. I’m sure everyone will understand after what happened here.”

At first, I think she’s going to protest, but Roxy surprises me by slowly nodding in agreement. “Yeah. I think I could use some rest.”

She’s fading fast, and I need to get her out of here and tucked into a warm bed.

Ten minutes later, I’ve made all the necessary calls and arrangements, and Roxy is by my side again. I half carry, half walk her down the street a few blocks to my motel. The closer we get, the more nervous I become.

I should have rented an apartment with a temporary lease or picked a motel with less rust on the sign and decor that has been updated since the seventies. It didn’t matter when it was just me. I’ve learned to sleep anywhere and don’t need many creature comforts.

Roxy, on the other hand, deserves room service and silk sheets.

I fumble with the keys to my room, my hands growing sweaty and clammy. I can’t remember the last time I was this anxious.

After getting the door open, I step inside, aware that Roxy is right behind me. She hasn’t been more than two inches from me since we left her apartment, and I can feel the fear radiating off of her. While I’m glad she’s taking the threats more seriously, I never wanted this to happen.

“How are you holding up?” I ask, turning to face Roxy.

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