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“Thank you,” she said, nodding to the lock. “I’ll feel much safer tonight.”
If possible, his eyes darkened. “I don’t want you to ever feel unsafe again.”
Well. What was she supposed to do with that?
His face scrunched up, like he regretted saying so much, and he yanked the door open, then he paused. “Would you like me to bring Trevor over? He could spend the night with you.”
Yes. A million times, yes.
“If you wouldn’t mind. I’d like that.”
She locked the door behind him, swept up the dust, and prepared to shower. Minutes later, knuckles rapped on the wood.
“Who is it?”
“Trevor.”
Opening the door, she fell back a step when the bull mastiff bounded in and nosed her thigh. Laughing, she dropped her hands to scratch him behind both ears.
“Hey there, cutie.”
“I brought his bed, too.”
She glanced up at Tione, who was arranging a thin foam squab with a bundle of blankets on the floor just inside the doorway. When he straightened, she stopped petting Trevor, ignoring his groan of protest, and went to his owner.
“Thank you.” Tentatively, she wrapped her arms around him, maintaining a space between their chests so the hug didn’t jolt her sore ribs. He smelled of wood, spiced pumpkin, and man. Even from this distance, she could feel the power of his body, but it didn’t scare her. She didn’t think he’d hurt her, even if she frustrated him. “Kind” wasn’t a word she would have associated with him at first, but she was beginning to think it fit.
All too quickly, she released him. “This is very sweet of you.”
Was it her imagination, or did his cheeks flush?
“He’ll need to go out first thing in the morning,” he said, voice gruff. “He’ll whine loud enough to wake the whole place if you let him.”
“I consider myself warned. Goodnight, Tione.”
“G’night, Megan.”
8
After a daylike the one he’d had, Tione should be falling into bed, but instead it felt like he’d taken a dose of intravenous caffeine. He paced the length of his cabin, Pixie on his heels, while Zee and Bella watched him with interest. His fingers drummed a rhythm on his thighs, the same way they itched to fly over a keyboard so he could learn all of Megan’s secrets. What he wouldn’t give to forget his morals and take the easy way out for once.
Gritting his teeth, he reminded himself that he wasn’t the same person he used to be. He didn’t use those skills anymore. With a curse, he snatched his t-shirt off over his head, then he turned the shower as hot as he could stand it, stripped off his jeans, and stepped in. He scrubbed the grit from his skin with brisk movements and let the water stream through his hair. Then he shut the shower off, toweled dry, and threw himself onto the bed.
What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t protect Megan if he didn’t know what he was protecting her from. Not that he had any right to appoint himself anyone’s protector. That ship had sailed years ago.
You can’t protect her. You’ll only make it worse. Leave her alone.
But he couldn’t. Someone needed to be looking out for her.
Kat is. She doesn’t need you.
Suddenly weary, he climbed under the covers and patted the bed until Bella and Zee both jumped up and settled beside him. Pixie yapped from the floor for him to lift her up. He did, and then lay surrounded by doggy love and closed his eyes. Megan’s face flashed through his mind, followed by the sensation of being hugged by her, the embrace so insubstantial it was almost nonexistent. She was so fragile, and she’d been so delicate and wonderful in his arms. How could anybody possibly want to hurt her? It was unthinkable. Hopefully having Trevor nearby would bring her a measure of peace.
His fingers tapped against his leg again, and he buried them in Bella’s fur and willed them to be still. He hadn’t touched a keyboard in years and he wasn’t about to start now. Some promises were meant to be kept. He owed Michele’s memory that much.
At the thought of her, his soul ached. He’d never met the woman, but he’d felt like he’d known her intimately, and it was his fault that her story had ended in tragedy. He couldn’t make that mistake again.
* * *
