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He stood and handed me the pile that consisted of a couple rejected dresses and tops, plus the lacy bottoms to my favorite nightie.

He definitely noticed, the way his masculine jaw clenched as he touched the fabric right before he passed it to me.

Awesome.

I struggled to find some lightness in the middle of this mess, and I quirked a daring brow at him as I protectively balled the pile against my chest. “I already warned you to stay out of my lacy, private things.”

How the hell was I supposed to handle him looking at me like that? Not with those honey-kissed eyes that warmed in interest. Or maybe they were just darkening in greed.

“Didn’t say anything, Savannah.” His voice turned cocky, lowering a decibel, different than it’d been when he’d been searching for an intruder.

Like now that he knew I was safe his mind had turned to different things.

Things that were likely a whole lot more dangerous than whoever had messed with my door.

I went to grab my suitcase from where I’d stored it by the wall, only Ezra was right behind me, grabbing it before I could. “Let me help you.”

“Okay, Officer Overbearing.”

He smirked as he opened it on the end of the bed. “I thought we established that it is called chivalry.”

“I think it’s called you being a control freak.”

He shocked me when he suddenly turned and dragged his calloused fingers down the side of my face.

A shiver tumbled.

This one made of greed.

His head barely tipped to the side. “It’s called me taking care of the ones who mean something to me.”

Ruined.

This man was going to ruin me.

I shook myself out of it and angled around him so I could toss the pile into the suitcase, then I went to the vanity where I shoved the rest of my things into my cosmetic bag and tossed that into it, too, before I closed and zipped it shut.

Ezra jostled me out of the way and picked up both the suitcase and duffle.

I all but rolled my eyes, and he chuckled as he headed for the door. “Think you need to get used to having friends, Savannah. Whole point of them is that they carry some of the load,” he tossed at me from over his shoulder.

That was exactly what I was worried about.

He paused when he stepped back out onto the landing.

Tension rolled through him again, the man instantly on edge.

Unease skimmed through my senses, but I shoved it down, clinging to what Samson had said.

It was random.

It was random.

Ezra remained on guard the whole way down to the parking lot, even more so as he stood beside me like a sentry as we walked to my car that was parked three spots down from his truck.

A soldier ready to go to war.

He tossed my bags into my trunk, then came to stand in the doorway of the driver’s side just as I sat.

My spirit shook. Remembering the first time I’d seen him. The way the sight of him had knocked me senseless. Apparently, I’d gone completely insane along the way. Because I couldn’t believe I’d agreed to this. Staying so close to him. More worrisome was the sense of comfort it brought me.

“I’ll follow you. Do you still have the address?”

I forced the brightest smile, like this was no big deal. “Yup.”

Ezra caught it. “You don’t have to be afraid, Savannah. I’ve got you.”

Without saying anything else, he shut my door and strode over to his truck. The engine roared as he started it.

He was hidden behind the darkness of his windows, but it didn’t matter. I could still feel the intensity of his vigilance.

I pulled out onto the street and drove in the direction of his house, his headlights glaring through my rearview mirror as he trailed close behind.

The entire ride I fought the sense of being afraid, knowing the whole time that fear didn’t have a thing to do with the attempted break-in.

It had every-single-thing to do with the spark Ezra had lit inside me.

Ezra flicked on the light switch, and a warm, buttery glow illuminated the space. My breath hitched. I’d almost forgotten how gorgeous it was. My attention swept over the living room and the kitchen. I suppressed a gulp when my attention was drawn to the French doors and matching windows.

Each of the house’s back doors faced the other, and the rambling yard between separated them.

The area was lit in a bare sheen of moonlight.

I stared out at the swing set and toys that littered the lawn and across to his back porch on the far side and his house that sat in stilled silence with the windows blackened.

“My kids are spending the night with my mother tonight.” His voice was softly gruff as he issued the explanation, like he’d read every thought and reservation in my mind.

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