Protect Me Page 4

  I take a hot, relaxing shower as I wash away the sweat from last night’s sleep. I need to be downstairs at the bakery at five to prepare the first batch of dough. The bakery doesn’t open until six-thirty, so it gives me an hour and a half of uninterrupted time to get the day’s products ready to be made.

  Yesterday, I didn’t get the bakery opened at six-thirty the way I had planned. After Nate left, Avery went up front and found three customers standing on the sidewalk waiting for the door to open. Oops! I never made it to the front to unlock the door. Avery was cool about the entire thing. Actually, a little too cool, if you ask me. I felt her smiling eyes on me all morning and could see the questions in her eyes.

  I exit my apartment, locking the door securely behind me, and trek down the metal steps. The back door of the bakery is positioned underneath the metal staircase that runs parallel to the older brick building. I unlock the back door and flip on the lights. Bright florescent lights bathe the entire kitchen area. I relock the door behind me - I learned my lesson yesterday - and deposit my purse in the small office. As I step into the kitchen, I begin the process of preparing dough.

  Forty-five minutes later, the first batch of cinnamon rolls is in the oven and the mixer bowl contains all the ingredients for the delicious cream cheese frosting. As I get ready to start the mixer, a knock sounds at the back door.

  I contemplate opening it. If it were Avery or Mrs. Stevens, they would use their key. But someone up to no good probably wouldn’t knock, would they?

  I hesitantly make my way over to the back door, take a deep breath, and turn the lock. I slowly pull the door open to view Nate Stevens standing there in running shorts and a sweaty gray tank top wrapped snuggly against his ripped torso. Hello, lucky sweat.

  I pull the door open, allowing him to step inside. Once he’s clear of the doorway, I close the door and throw the lock again.

  “I see you decided to lock the door to avoid being surprised?” Nate asks with a hint of a smile.

  His hair is tussled in a delicious I-want-to-run-my-fingers-through-it way, and he’s breathing hard as if he just finished up a run.

  “Yeah, the pan was dirty so I figured I’d save myself the energy of washing it right now and just lock the door,” I tell him with a hint of my own smile.

  Nate laughs. It’s the sexiest laugh I’ve ever heard - with deep timbers and a throaty growl to it - and does weird tingly things to my dormant lady parts. “Well, I’m personally glad you answered the door without brandishing a weapon,” he retorts with another award-winning smile.

  I cringe when I recall how we met yesterday morning. “Yeah, I’m still so sorry about that. I never meant to hurt you,” I tell him.

  Nate crosses his long, lean, muscular legs as he leans back against the stainless steel island. Seriously, his legs are crazy-hot. Like the kind of legs that could do serious damage when used as a weapon and even more damage to a girl’s already overheated body. They’re practically tree trunks holding up his body. Thick, hard muscles and sexy as sin dark blond hair.

  But what draws my attention more than his incredible legs are the tattoos on his upper arm and shoulder. Yesterday, Nate was wearing a t-shirt that covered up his ink. Today, in the form fitting tank top, his tattoos are on clear display. They start mid-bicep and run up his shoulder, wrapping around the back. They’re intricate and detailed; a beautiful display of dark lines and symbols. They’re deep and personal and ungodly sexy as hell.

  Crap! Get it together, Lia!

  I fan my suddenly flushed face and look over at Nate. His intense eyes are trained on me. A slow smile spreads across his far too handsome face as if he knows exactly what I was just thinking, and clearly has no problems allowing my mind to detour and my eyes to wander.

  “So, obviously, you weren’t expecting me yesterday morning, so who were you expecting?” Nate asks as he returns the conversation to a more serious nature.

  “No one. That’s the problem. I was just startled,” I reply.

  “I get that. But why?” he asks, training those all-knowing eyes back on mine.

  I squirm a little under his scrutiny and wonder exactly how to steer the conversation in another direction. I have no intention of telling Nate why I reacted the way I did, but something tells me that he’s not going to give up his quest for information too easily.

  “You can just never be too careful, Nate. Don’t you agree?”

  “Of course, I agree. You just seemed like your fear was real yesterday, not just a fear of a strange man walking around your place of work. You were afraid of something more. I saw it in your eyes.”

  “Look, I just startle easily, okay? Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine. Really,” I say and look back at his face. His eyes bore into me again, but I fight the urge to wiggle. I hold steadfast as he scans my face.

  “You’re right,” Nate says. “Sorry to push.”

  “It’s okay,” I reply as I turn back to the mixer on the counter by the wall. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?” I ask. “I just finished the first pot.”

  “That sounds great, and today you can actually make it regular. That’s actually why I stopped in. Well, that and one of your fresh cinnamon rolls. Don’t tell Ave because she would cut off my balls, but it was probably better than the last one she made me. It was mouthwatering,” he says, the corner of his mouth rises up with the compliment. But the way he says mouthwatering suddenly makes my body that much more aware of his presence. My whole body is instantly humming to life.

  After centering my equilibrium, I smile and say, “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

  Nate stares at me and all of the unsaid things float around us. He has no idea that more than his secret is safe. I feel so safe. And that scares the hell out of me.

  I turn and grab the pot of coffee from the percolator. My hand has a slight tremble as I pour the hot liquid into the insulated paper cup. After I secure the lid on the top of the cup, I turn around and hand it to the tall man in front of me. He’s not only tall, but broad and muscular. You can tell he works hard for his incredible physique. Women everywhere must drool. Hell, he probably has a woman at home drooling over him all day long. I chance a quick look down at his left hand and don’t see a ring. Not even the faint marking from where a ring once was. Still, that doesn’t mean that there isn’t someone waiting at home for Mr. Nate Stevens. Grabbing a white bag, I slip one of the fresh rolls inside and hand it to him, as well.

  “Thank you for the cup of coffee and the cinnamon roll. I should probably let you get back to work,” Nate says as he takes his cup and crosses to the door. He turns around and makes eye contact one last time.

  I find myself holding my breath as I wait for him to say something - anything.

  “I’ll see you soon, Lia,” Nate says with another thousand-watt grin, revealing a dimple in his right cheek that makes my panties instantly damp.

  I struggle to speak. Words just don’t seem to come. It’s like my brain completely forgets how to properly form thoughts and shuts down.

  Nate throws me another knowing smile and unlocks the door. With a wink of his uber-sexy right eye, he exits the same way he entered. Except this time, he may very well have taken a sliver of my heart with him.

  Chapter Three

  Nate

  Damn, that woman does things to me. I’m just so fucking thankful that she didn’t notice everything she does to me. When she opened that door, my running shorts shrank two sizes. She’s the perfect combination of sexy and shy. I’ve always been into the more aggressive ladies, but Lia? Her quiet, shy persona only enhances her inner and outer beauty. In fact, it makes her sexy as hell.

  I walk out into the alleyway carrying my perfect cup of black coffee, the scent of the warm cinnamon roll assaulting my senses, when I see the familiar face of my mother standing in front of me. And she’s smiling. Not just any smile, but one of those smiles that lets me know she knows way more than she’s letting on.

  “Well, good mor
ning, son. I didn’t expect to see you this morning,” my mom says with a smile on her face.

  I step forward and give her a gentle kiss on her cheek. “I just stopped by for a cup of coffee and something sweet is all. What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “Oh, I thought I’d stop by and see how that darling new woman is working out. She’s such a sweetheart, that one,” she says with another knowing look.

  “Yeah, she seems nice,” I reply, trying to act calm, cool, and collected.

  “Mmm hmm,” she agrees, again with that damn smile. “Anyway, I was thinking of inviting her over to Sunday dinner since she’s so new in town and doesn’t really know anyone yet. I thought maybe if she came over and had dinner with a few of us, she would feel more comfortable and would appreciate getting to know a few young ladies around her age.”

  “That sounds like a great idea, Mom,” I reply before taking another sip of coffee. Why do I feel like she’s baiting me here? As a child, my mother was always a master manipulator, and I supposed you would have had to be, to raise five kids. With that said, I can’t help but wonder what she’s up to here.

  “I know you guys work this Sunday, but Avery and the kids will be there. Plus, Erin, Travis, Josselyn, and Grant,” she says. “Oh, and Will,” she adds. There’s something about the way she says it. A slightly different tone or something.

  “Will?” I ask, eyebrow shooting skyward.

  “Yes, Will. He’s single, you know. I just bet he and Lia would hit it off nicely, don’t you?”

  I stare hard at my mom. She’s staring up at me with a look of pure motherly innocence, but behind that look roots evil. She’s all twinkly eyes and bright smile, but there’s no doubt about it. She’s definitely up to something.

  And I’m not falling for it.

  “Whatever you think, Mom. Though, I doubt Will is her type,” I reply casually.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. I guess we’ll see on Sunday, won’t we?” she says as she walks around me towards the door I just exited.

  “Goodbye, Mom. Try not to meddle too much in everyone’s business,” I add with a grin.

  “I don’t meddle, son. I develop very strategic plans and execute with precision and expertise,” Mom replies with a big smile dripping with purity.

  I bite my tongue. I don’t want my mom meddling anywhere near me. Let her focus on Will. “Talk to you later,” I say over my shoulder as I head towards home.

  My pace quickens as the images of Mom fixing Lia and Will up take root in my brain like that moment you sit in the dentist chair and he pulls out the drill. I’m instantly edgy and tense.

  Over my dead body, Mother.

  *****

  Monday night proves to be another hot, muggy Midwestern August night. The humidity is high and the streets have all but closed up as the residents of Rivers Edge find comfort inside their homes, in the air conditioning. I’m starving, but need to stop by the hardware store first and grab some more drywall filler to use in a few cracks in the living room walls. Fortunately, there isn’t too much to do in the living room as far as remodeling goes. I plan on filling the cracks, repainting the walls, and replacing the worn out carpeting. Then I can move on to the next room.

  I head down the aisle that houses the drywall supplies and run smack into Lia. She’s studying the same group of products on the shelf that I’m after. Since she hasn’t seen me yet, I take the opportunity to check her out. She’s not too short and not too tall - I’d guess around five-six - and has a smokin’ hot body. Her tits which are accented by her tight tank top are the perfect size for my hands. My fingers itch to feel their weight in my palms, squeezing them until she moans. Her legs are endless - long and curvy. Her ass is perfection. I know because I’ve already checked it out numerous times in the two short encounters we’ve had. Her hair is up and her bangs hang down, swept to the right side of her face. She’s gorgeous. Stunning. Beautiful.

  “This isn’t exactly where I expected to find you on a Monday night,” I say as I saddle up next to her, focusing on the variety of products on the shelf.

  Lia startles a little but recovers quickly. She gives me a friendly smile and says, “I was hoping to help out and patch up a few nail holes. Whoever your mom rented the apartment to before me left it full of holes. It can’t be that hard right?” she replies with a casual shrug.

  “You live in the apartment above the bakery?” I ask. How did I miss that?

  “Yeah. It’s pretty convenient when it comes to getting up and being to work at five a.m.”

  “I bet. I drive thirty minutes one way to start at six in the morning,” I tell her. “So, if you’re looking to patch nail holes, you’re looking for this,” I say as I pull a small container of putty from the shelf. “It’s easy to spread and easy to paint over.”

  “That’s what I’m looking for,” she says as she takes the jar from my extended hand. When our fingers touch, it’s electrically charged and courses like lightning through my bloodstream. Lia gasps, eyes wide with shock, as she looks down at our touching fingers.

  “Then you’ve found exactly what you need,” I reply, referring to so much more than the spackle.

  Lia clears her throat. “What…what are you looking for?” she whispers.

  “The same thing you are,” I reply and reach forward and grab a larger container of the putty.

  “Huh. I’d say I’m pretty fortunate that you turned up in my aisle tonight then,” she replies, her beautiful eyes still locked on mine.

  “Indeed,” I reply and clear my throat. “So, I was planning on grabbing a quick sandwich. Are you hungry?”

  “Oh, well,” she starts. I can see instantly when the light in her eyes fades and the door slams closed in my face. “I have an early morning tomorrow with work so I should probably just head home and go to bed.”

  I cock my head to the side and study her reaction. She’s interested but for some reason, she’s trying to shut me out. Interesting.

  “Don’t say no. I wasn’t asking you to go out all night. Just a quick sandwich and then I’ll return you safely to your car. You’ll be home in plenty of time for bedtime,” I say.

  She’s considering it, I can tell. She’s mulling over the pros and cons and wrinkling her brow in this cute little way. As I watch her internal battle play out, I prepare for the letdown. I’m not sure what’s holding her back, but something definitely is. It’s written on her beautiful face.

  “Umm, okay. Maybe just a quick sandwich,” she finally answers quietly.

  I’m in complete shock. Honestly. I wasn’t prepared for her to actually say yes, though I’d hoped it would go that way.

  “Great. Is this all you need?” I ask, as a reach down and grab a small putty knife from the shelf and hand it to her.

  “Yes.”

  “Then let’s make our purchases and head out,” I say and I link my fingers around her elbow. She tenses instantly from my touch so I casually drop my hand as to not draw attention to the fact that I noticed it. She doesn’t say anything and continues towards the check-out counter if not a little stiffer than before. I may not say anything, but I definitely make mental note of her reaction.

  After we’ve each paid, we head out to my Mustang parked in the small lot next to the hardware store. “Hop in, and I’ll drive. I’ll bring you back to your car after dinner,” I tell her casually as I hold open the passenger door.

  Again, she hesitates slightly just enough that I notice. She walks around me and slides down into the gray leather interior. Once she’s nestled inside my ride and has secured her seatbelt, I close her door and go around to my own.

  “Frankie’s?” I ask as I slide into the seat and secure my own seatbelt.

  “Is that the burger joint just down the road?” she asks.

  I shake my head up and down. “Best burgers around.”

  “Sounds good,” she replies with a small smile.

  We drive in silence the few blocks to Frankie’s. I feel nervous. Nervous! I haven’t felt nervous
around a girl in years. You’d think this was my first time taking a girl to the drive-in burger joint. Shit, I’ve been taking girls to this burger joint since I was old enough to peddle my bicycle to town and ride with the girl sitting on the handlebars. But this is just another reminder of why Lia feels different.

  Lia glances at the menu on the board next to the speaker. I love this drive-in. You don’t have to get out of your car. Push the button, order your food, and they deliver it to your window as soon as it’s ready.

  “Know what you want?” I ask and glance over at the beautiful woman sitting in my car.

  “Yep. Just a cheeseburger, deep fried pickles, and a cherry coke, please.”

  “Deep fried pickles? I think I love you,” I tease with my best smile.

  Lia laughs. “I could eat pickles all day long,” she tells me.

  “Me, too.” I reply. “How about I get fried cheese curds and we share?”

  “Sounds good,” she replies with a smile. “But if there’s an odd number, I get the extra one,” she adds seriously which makes me smile.

  I order her food, a double cheeseburger, the cheese curds, and a large coke for myself, and then we sit back and wait for our food to be delivered.

  “So, where do you come from?” I ask.

  Lia’s reaction is instantly closed off. I almost miss the way she starts to mess with her fingers and her leg starts to bounce. Almost. “Oh, you know. Here and there.”

  “Here and there? That’s vague,” I reply casually.

  “I’m just a private person, Nate. You can never be too careful, you know?”

  And there she goes with the ‘be careful’ bit again. I’d like to know what has her so closed off and scared. She might be the most evasive person I’ve ever met. I’m intrigued more than ever.