Page 19 of Working for the Enemy

“Then let me take care of you.”

I nod again as he gently sets me down and begins washing me. Kane's touch is achingly tender like I'm precious to him and he wants to savor every moment of being with me like this. I can't stop the tears stinging my eyes. Kane doesn't say anything, he just kisses them away and continues washing my body before moving on to my hair.

Kane dries me off with a fluffy towel and then scoops me up in his arms again, making me giggle. He tosses me down on the mattress, grinning in satisfaction when I don’t move an inch. My entire body feels liquefied, humming with a warm, heavy sensation that reaches all the way down to my toes.

Leaning down, Kane plants a firm, lingering kiss right in the center of my forehead. “Stay here,” he rumbles as he pulls on a pair of dark sweatpants. He doesn't bother with a shirt, leaving those broad shoulders and chiseled abs on display. "I’m making breakfast."

"Yes, Boss," I murmur teasingly, biting my lip.

A corner of his mouth twitches, a rare, half-smile that sends a fresh wave of butterflies fluttering through my stomach. Kane pads out of the room, leaving me to relax in my blissful bubble.

Ten minutes later, the rich scent of brewing coffee and sizzled bacon wafts into the bedroom, making my stomach rumble loudly. Kane returns carrying a tray that looks laughably small in his massive hands, loaded with scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, buttered toast, and two large mugs.

He sets the tray down across my lap, then climbs back into bed beside me, propping himself up against the headboard. His arm settles casually around my shoulders, drawing me close to his warm side.

"Eat," he commands softly, though there's no sharp edge to it this time. Just steady, quiet care.

I pick up a piece of toast, taking a small bite as I lean into his chest, listening to the calm, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Yesterday, I was sleeping in the cramped backseat of my car, terrified of every shadow. Now, sitting in Kane’s bed, surrounded by his scent and his strength, I feel safer than I have in years.

"Kane?" I speak softly, staring down at my coffee mug. The usual banter and cheeky jokes float up in my head, but for the first time, I don't feel the need to hide behind them.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"I didn't just come to Forge Creek to start over," I say quietly, my voice trembling slightly as the truth slips out. "I was running. Back in Denver... I got into a bad situation. Took out a loan from the wrong people just to survive, and when I paid it back, they said I owed more. Then they sent an enforcer to my door. He... he threatened to force me into something far worse if I couldn't keep paying."

Kane’s entire body goes rigid beside me. The air in the room instantly cools as his breath hitches, his jaw locking tight. But he doesn't pull away. Instead, his arm tightens around me, tucking me firmly against his side. Kane’s fingers gently brush against the nearly-faded bruise on my ribs.

"They followed me here," I add softly, looking up at him. "That's why I panicked at the yard."

Kane sets his coffee mug down on the nightstand with a slow, deliberate motion. He turns his head to look at me, his eyes dark, intense, and swimming with a fierce, protective emotion that makes my heart ache.

"They won't touch you," he says, his voice dropping to a low, lethal murmur that leaves no room for doubt. "No one is ever going to hurt you again, Marlowe. You're under my roof, and you're under my protection."

He lifts his hand, his calloused thumb gently wiping away a stray tear I didn't realize had fallen down my cheek.

"I lost people once," he whispers, a rare crack appearing in his hardened armor as he touches the scar on his jaw. "I know what it feels like to fail the people you're supposed to keep safe. I won't let that happen with you. I can't."

A lump forms in my throat. Giving him my body last night was intense, but hearing him lay his soul bare like this, showing me his own scars, feels infinitely more intimate. Our hearts break and heal together as Kane nuzzles against my shoulder and I stroke the back of his neck.

"You're stuck with me now, sweetheart," Kane murmurs, lifting his head to press his lips gently to mine in a slow, sweet promise. "I'm not letting you go."

10

KANE

The heavy industrial grinder roars in my hands, shower after shower of orange sparks spraying across my leather apron as I smooth down the raw edge of a massive steel beam.

It’s mindless, backbreaking labor—the exact kind of work that’s supposed to quiet a man’s head.

It’s not working.

Every time I shut my eyes or breathe in, all I get is Marlowe. The lingering scent of sweet vanilla and sunshine clinging to my skin. The memory of her lush, soft body wrapped around mine this morning. The way her bright green eyes softened when she finally trusted me with the truth about what she was running from.

My chest tightens, a pulse of dark, possessive heat surging straight to my gut. She’s at her desk in the front office, safe, right where I left her with a fresh mug of coffee. But even with a thick wooden door between us, my hyper-vigilance is tuned to her like a frequency I can’t turn off.

Clang. Whir. Buzz-buzz.

The ambient chaos of the Forge Creek Municipal Contractors yard echoes around me, welding arcs flashing in the distance, the heavy rumble of a diesel engine idling nearby and iron beams rattling as the crew moves stock.