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She runs the center full-time and holds weekly meetings at her home. Then there’s the escort service.
Then there’s Cole.
Yeah, I can’t get that perplexing, ambiguous, frustratingly gorgeous man, put soundly together by muscles and tattoos, out of my head. From the twinkle in his shaded eyes to the sexy twitch in his flirtatious smile. Not to mention, his dedication, like my aunt’s, to helping these women astonishes me. I don’t know if I want to praise him or strip him free of his clothes and do nasty things to his indestructible body and thought-provoking attitude.
He’s irritating and not just to my sex-deprived body.
He boggles my brain. It’s refreshing not to completely understand a man after a couple of encounters, which is what usually happens. I evaluate, tear down, and then discard them before they ever get a chance with me. It’s not a good trait of mine.
It’s just one of my many defense mechanisms. It keeps me safe from getting hurt.
I glance at the monitors for the entrance of the counseling room. Between the security system and all the cameras, this place is like Fort Knox. I get it. Aunt Willa brings in these vulnerable women, and they come with dangerous baggage.
It’s smart and safe.
I sip on my coffee. There’s movement on the monitor. I lean in to get a better look, and stabbing needles prickle my skin.
It’s a man in a hoodie.
“Shit!” Did I leave the front door open?
The man walks through it. Yep. I did. I rush over to the door to the kitchen and deadbolt it. I run back to the monitor. “Fuck!” I grab my cell and call my aunt.
“Hi, Harper,” Aunt Willa’s familiar voice comes through my cell. “How did the first meeting go?”
“I think the guy from the escort last night is here,” I rush out.
“Where?” There’s a millisecond pause. “At the house?”
“Yeah, in the counseling room.”
“Where are you?”
“The kitchen.”
“Is the door locked?”
I glance at it. “Yes.”
“Okay. Don’t open it. I’ll get one of the Daxon brothers over there, but if he tries to get in, call the police.”
“Okay. Cole. Send Cole.”
“I’ll try him. Don’t open the door. I’m serious, Harper. Do you hear me?”
“Yes. But the meeting is going to start soon. What if someone shows up early?”
“Do not go out there,” she says in a stern tone. “I’ll call you back.”
Eyes glued to the monitor, I watch the guy. He tries the kitchen door. My heart hammers in my chest.
What if he gets in?
Breaks the door down.
No. I take a deep breath. He can’t do it. The door is solid steel.
The jiggling of the knob stops. He must’ve realized it’s locked. I stare at the monitor. Frozen in silence, I watch him walk to a chair and sit down.
