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I pulled at her plate, forcing her head up from wherever she had gone to a minute ago. “What’s in that beautiful mind of yours?”
She shook her head, her eyes gaining focus. “Stuff.”
When I threw her a pointed look, she laughed. “What happened earlier. How I’m so on edge. I wonder if that paranoid feeling will ever go away.”
I reached for her hand over the table, placing my hand over her fist. “I was thinking.” I paused, knowing how I phrased things was important. It was how I handled my business, my household. It was all about the approach. “I don’t want you to be paranoid anymore. I don’t want you to keep looking behind you at the grocery store or when we’re out at the park with the girls. So”—I leveled her with a stare—“I want you to think about getting a restraining order.”
“What?” She reeled back as all these questions played behind her eyes.
I continued before she had a chance to deny my request, “If we find him and file a restraining order against him, he can’t hurt you anymore. I don’t want you to live a life where you’re afraid.”
Her gaze dropped to the table, and I squeezed her hand tighter. “Let me do this.” I paused, needing her to really listen to me. “I care about you, Becky.” My thumb brushed against the top of her fist.
Her eyes focused on the table, her eyebrows pulling in. “I can’t.” When her gaze met mine, her decision was made. “If I believed for one second that a restraining order would stop him, I’d do it. But it won’t. I know him. Paul Clark is one of a kind. He won’t stop until he has me under his control.”
Her words seared through me, and I wanted to protest and argue with her that I had all the means to keep him away. Even if I had to hire round-the-clock security for her, I’d do it.
She smiled then. “I can only imagine what’s playing in that mind of yours. Just don’t go there, Charles.”
I swallowed hard. “It’s impossible for me to not take care of the people I care about the most.”
Her fingers came to my fisted hand on the top of the table. I hadn’t even realized that my body had gone stiff, my muscles tightening at this conversation.
“How do you know?” I pressed. “How do you know we can’t get this guy in jail if he tries to come at you? Not like I’m willing to risk it, but I want you to no longer be afraid.”
Her eyebrows pulled together, and her gaze dropped to the table. “I’ll be more afraid if he knows where I am.”
When her eyes flickered toward mine, I read the fear clearly, forcing me to pull her from her seat and into my lap.
I held her close, and my lips found their way to her forehead. “Okay,” I said, knowing I wouldn’t be at ease but wanting to please her, do what she was comfortable with. “I’ll let it go.”
I cupped her face, forcing her to look up at me. Her eyes were a blazing green, as fierce as a newly watered lawn.
A deep emotion settled in my gut. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore. You know that, right?” My voice was strong, firm. I’d protect her and everyone close to me with my own life. “Because I am here—to serve and protect.” My smile surfaced, waiting to erase the fear in her eyes.
After a beat, she kissed my lips with a sweet peck and pulled back, smiling. “That’s good to know.”
* * *
Becky
The weekend seemed to speed up. Didn’t it always when you were having the time of your life? In a span of a short day and a half, I’d learned so much about Charles, about Natalie, about his little quirks.
I always knew what motivated him, and I knew some of his favorite things from living with his family, but finding out little tidbits while it was just the two of us was different. Charles was a hand-holder. Though his outward appearance would make him seem rough and tough around the edges, his hand-holding or little brushes against my waist showed a different side of him that others never saw, and I got to experience it firsthand without little eyes in the house.
I was sitting on his lap, watching the most recent Jason Bourne movie. Barely watching really because his fingers were threaded through my hair, his tongue was down my throat, and more accurately, I was not sitting on his lap. I was straddling him.
I hadn’t been kissed like this in … never. I’d never been kissed like this, slow and sensually yet where every flick of his tongue sent shivers straight through me.
My heart raced. My pulse thrummed rapidly against the inside of my wrist. I wanted him, no doubt, but I wanted him to be ready, to go at his pace.
Sure felt as though he was ready now, given that his one hand was on my ass.
When he pulled back, I was allowed to breathe. I thought it was game over until he lifted me, both hands on my ass.
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Where are we going?”
“My bedroom.”
