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ve to take things slow. Murphy’s commanding, bossy attitude worried her. He was a big man. When he said jump, he expected instant response. Ricky, well Ricky was a character. He was a flirt and she feared he could stray. But those scars on his chest said a lot. Maybe he was like her? Maybe he acted so confident and showed face to keep his true insecurities at bay?
But she still feared that any of them could turn on her as Mano had. After all, Mano claimed to have loved her and thought her his world, and then she busted him in bed with those two women. She felt her chest tighten. She thought about Brody. A soldier, cold as ice, serious as could be. He reminded her of the fear she had losing her father and brothers to the scars of war. Not only physical, but also emotional. Would he let her in? Could she let him in and share the abuse she sustained with Mano? How about her own scars? Both were hidden, and the one against her hip that the tattoo hid. They would see it. They would notice the raised skin and ask questions. She would fear that moment of truth. Then there was Waylon. Waylon, she feared most of all. He, too, was a soldier, scarred by his experiences, which explained his seriousness and demanding personality. He used his fists as a profession and it of course reminded her of Mano and of her brother, Kyle. Kyle refused to receive counseling or at minimum talk to her about his feelings. His rage showed in the ring. It showed when he did drugs and when he tossed her across the room like a rag doll.
That could be Waylon. Not that she knew much about him, except for what Regan explained, but the fear was still there. He’d spanked her ass while they were having sex. That had ultimately turned her on, but now she wondered if his show of dominance was an early sign of physical abuse.
That thought brought tears to her eyes and an instant pain in her chest.
Amelia turned around and headed back to the table. The volunteers were arriving and she needed to get them all set up then head back upstairs to the office.
As she turned the corner, she saw Tucker. He was talking to a couple of the men in the group that were headed to a meeting upstairs. She turned around and was ready to take the stairs when she heard her name being called.
“Amelia! Come on, we’ll hold it for you,” one of the guy’s, Billy, yelled. The others smiled, but Tucker looked smug.
“You work here?” he asked and she nodded her head.
“She’s new. But a favorite already,” Billy whispered then gave her a wink.
“Thanks.”
“What do you do?” Tucker asked and she didn’t want to talk to him or be polite. The guy had been a jerk.
“She works for your dad, Tucker,” Johnny stated.
“No shit. Damn, if I knew that, I would stop in here more often,” Tucker said flirtatiously. The others chuckled.
As the doors opened, Amelia stepped out first.
Toby was there to greet her and Tucker.
“Hey, you two came up together?” he asked as the other guys waved then headed down to the meeting room.
“Yeah, I didn’t know Amelia worked for you.”
“Sure does, son. She’s beautiful, right?”
“And then some,” Tucker replied and Toby chuckled.
“Oh, Amelia, Murphy Haas called for you. He left his cell number.”
She smiled. “Great. Thank you. Listen, I have everything set up downstairs. The volunteers have arrived. In an hour or so, I’ll go down to check on them.”
“Okay. Great. I need to run down the hall. Tucker, you know where the envelope on my desk is. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Was it Amelia, or did Toby seem annoyed with his son? She got a feeling that Tucker’s visit was not appreciated. But maybe she was wrong. All she knew was that Tucker was a jerk that night at the bar.
“No problem. I’ll keep Amelia company,” Tucker said, but Toby was already out the door and hadn’t heard his son.
Amelia ignored Tucker’s flirtatious comment and walked to the small desk. She peeled the sticky note from the screen on her computer. It had Murphy’s name and cell phone number on it. As she looked up, she noticed Tucker, holding an envelope and leaning against the door frame, staring at her.
She walked around her desk to the file cabinet and began to look up some information she needed for the last group of the day.
“Not calling back your bodyguard?”
She turned to look at him. “Excuse me?”
He stepped away from the doorway as she grabbed the paper she needed then walked over to the photocopying machine.
She knew that Tucker approached. Every nerve in her body alerted her to not let her guard down.
When she felt his finger glide down her spine, she turned around.
