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I will never tolerate anyone who’s obsessed with what’s mine…anyone who wants to hurt Andrea and terrorize her…who gets off on making her shake with fear. If he thinks I’m going to sit back and do nothing, then he’s nothing but a fool.
Every time I think about what he’s done to her, my blood boils. This deranged piece of shit has no idea what’s coming for him.
* * *
After dinner,I spend the rest of the night holding her as she watches movies on her phone. I’m not even sure what it’s about because I’m too busy watching her. She’s so beautiful, especially up close. Her hazel eyes look unreal and she smells so good. Soher.
I don’t attempt to make out with her because her earlier panic attack left her emotionally and physically drained. I will never take advantage of her. She’s mine to protect and that’s exactly what I’ll do.
The morning comes and thankfully, I don’t embarrass myself further by grinding on her while half-asleep. She’s up early so I get up to find her.
She’s not in the kitchen but I can tell she just brewed coffee. I open the door to the deck and there she is. Sitting on a chaise lounge with a cup of steaming coffee in one hand.
Finally, remnants of storm clouds have disappeared, the sun already peeking through. The air feels crisp, carrying with it the faint scent of saltwater. From where I’m standing, the waves are now gentle and rhythmic, lapping against the shore almost calmly. Seaweed and debris are scattered along the shoreline.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Andrea doesn’t turn to me but she smiles as she gazes at the view before us.
I take her in. She’s wearing another pair of my old clothes, but damn it, this girl can wear a sack and she’ll still look stunning. From her messy hair to her bare feet, I can’t look away. I don’t even want to.
“Agree. Beautiful,” I say, my voice low.
She puts the cup on the chaise and jumps up to me. With her arms around my neck, she stands on tiptoes and kisses my mouth. “Let’s walk along the shore.”
Andrea grabs my hand and pulls me down the wooden staircase. We walk hand in hand, sand shifting beneath our feet. The breeze tousles her hair and she laughingly moves strands away from her face. Pausing near a cluster of shells, she stoops down and delicately traces the patterns.
I want to memorize her. Every curve. Every dip.
“Andrea?”
She stands up and spins around, still holding the shells. “Hmm?”
“How about dinner at the town center? You’re not allergic to seafood, are you?”
She beams and grabs onto my arm. “No! I love seafood!”
Her smile wavers, brows furrowing. “Wait. I don’t have clothes.”
I wave her off. “Don’t worry about it. There’s a small boutique owned by my colleague’s wife. I’ll call and see if they’re open.”
We have a light breakfast and are in the truck in record time. She’s giggling and can’t stay still. Andrea’s happiness and excitement are infectious. If there’s one thing I’m 100% sure of, it’s the fact that I vow to make her this happy for the rest of our lives. I’ll make it my personal mission.
* * *
We quickly findthe boutique and I park on the street. The moment we step inside, Andrea completely forgets about my presence and, like a kid in a candy shop, goes running to racks of colorful clothes. Thank God for small mercies because there’s a stool by the dressing room. It’s uncomfortably small but fuck it. I have a feeling we’ll be here for hours.
I nod a greeting to the owner, and she starts chatting with Andrea. I don’t understand a word they’re saying, so I take out my phone and stare at the screenshot she sent me last night. I do a simple search for the number. As expected, he used a burner phone.
I’m mentally planning what our setup will be like once Andrea goes back to her dorm. My beach house is four hours away, the hospital is an hour and a half, and my condo unit is just a few blocks from the hospital.
An hour and a half is nothing. I don’t mind driving three times a day just to eat with her… or eat her. Either way, I’m game. But what if I’m working? What if I’m on a double shift? I guess I’d have to send in a notice that I wouldn’t do double shifts anymore. They have enough surgeons to cover for me.
“What do you think?” Andrea asks, doing a slow circle for me. The dress is a rich, deep emerald green. The silky fabric hugs all her curves and watching her is enough to make my mouth water and my cock harden in attention.
The neckline is in a V-shape, enough to tease me but not enough to show ample cleavage. Thank fuck. The last thing I want is a hard-on while eating at a family restaurant. I also don’t want to end up pummeling some guy’s face just because he can’t help but watch her.
I don’t know what else is going on, but the bottom line, she looks hot as a sin in it. I can’t wait to see her wear it to dinner, but I also can’t wait to take it off her when we get home.
I let her choose five more. The owner talks her through a couple of day dresses, too, so I nod and tell her to buy everything she likes. She squeals and gets to it. We end up spending four hours in that boutique, and we purchased enough items that the owner kindly set up lunch for us.
