My Heart's Protector

by Jenn Sable

  “No pain anywhere? You didn’t bump your head while getting tossed around inside the vehicle while careening off the side of the road, did you?” The hint of humor surprised me, and light broke through his demeanor and danced through his eyes.

  A myriad of feelings hit me all at once, but I felt it was best to keep an emotional wall up between the two of us. “Troy, look, I’m really sorry for giving you a scare. I didn’t see you,” I said and maintained eye contact with him, although he was in uncomfortably close proximity. I tried not to squirm in my seat under his unwavering attention.

  He took an intuitive step back from the Jeep. “You didn’t see me,” he repeated slowly and glanced down at his fluorescent-orange tee shirt and flashed me a quizzical look from underneath his brows.

  I sighed. “Look, I’m really sorry. Are you okay?”

  He ignored my question. “El, I have to ask you because of the nature of my job, have you been drinking this morning?”

  “What? Drinking? I think I’ll start once I get to Brocker Lodge,” I said, trying to keep the mood light.

  “It’s a yes or no answer,” he said.

  “No,” I growled.

  He leaned forward slightly. “I didn’t think so. I don’t smell it on you.”

  I scoffed. “Quit smelling me. That’s so weird.”

  “It’s part of the job to use my observational skills to assess a situation,” he said and flashed a half-smile.

  “Aren’t you off duty? You don’t have to be a law enforcer all of the time, do you? Why are you jogging all the way out here, anyway?” I asked, deflecting the attention away from me.

  Although Preacher Road was the main vein through Frost Forest, Troy’s cabin was at least a ten-minute drive from here.

  “I stayed at the lodge last night. I was taking a jog before my shift starts, but El, you should know, I’m always on duty,” he said and took a few more steps back to survey the muddy ditch.

  El, you should know, I’m always on duty. Okay, Trooper-Too-Serious Troy, thanks for the info. Were you on duty the night you feasted on me in the study? Or when you probably feasted on April Kline the second my flight to Paris lifted off the ground? Oh goodness, breathe, these thoughts are not helping.

  “We have to get your Jeep out of this ditch, and then I’ll drive you to the lodge,” said Troy, matter-of-factly.

  Dread welled up in me over the idea of Troy Witmer driving me in my own vehicle, especially to the lodge. I’d have to explain the spectacle to Sammie and the twins. I shouldn’t have driven this morning. Sammie was expecting me, and she had probably started to worry by now that I was officially late. Thankfully, we weren’t far from the lodge.

  Troy circled the Jeep to scan the ditch, then returned to the driver’s side door. “Okay, the ditch isn’t very deep, but it’s muddy. I’m going to try pushing you out. You’ll have to press on the gas when I start to push. Can you do that?”

  I tilted my head to the side and smiled smugly. “Yes, I can do that,” I said. Can you not hop out of nowhere like a deer bounding across the road?

  Troy nodded once and positioned himself behind my Jeep, pressed his hands to either side of my trunk and loudly said, “Take your emergency brake off, put the vehicle into drive, and press the gas.”

  Annoyance clawed at my chest over Troy’s specific set of instructions. The fact that he’d noticed that I pulled the emergency brake when I stopped the Jeep made me feel a bit exposed under his uncanny observational skills. I followed his directions to the letter, though.

  The Jeep swayed but struggled to gain any traction in the thick mud. In the rearview mirror, I could see Troy’s arm muscles straining as he leaned his weight and strength into pushing the vehicle. I pressed harder on the gas pedal and heard Troy yell, “Try turning the wheel.”

  I glanced back to the rearview mirror, shocked to see Troy covered in mud from the chest down. Guilt nibbled at my stomach. So much for his jog.

  I swallowed hard, trying to focus on the task at hand. I turned the wheel and slowly pressed on the gas pedal while Troy pushed from behind, there was just enough traction to help the Jeep’s tires grip and pull loose from the ditch. I stopped several feet away from the ditch just to make sure I wouldn’t slip back into the muddy mess, then looked in my rearview mirror to see if Troy had made it out of the mud pit yet.

  Troy didn’t even bother trying to wipe the mud from his shirt. He carefully pulled it up over his face and powerful shoulders. I tried not to stare at him in the rearview mirror, but it was a hopeless feat. My thirsty eyes drank in his shoulders, followed the smooth planes of his broad, muscled chest, and the ridges of his toned abs. I remembered falling asleep against that muscled chest in the study after we’d brought each other to incredible climactic heights. His gray-mesh, jogging shorts rested low on his hips and the chiseled V that disappeared under the waistband of his shorts that led a pathway to forbidden fun.

  I bit my lip and wondered what it would’ve been like if we had actually had sex before I left for France. Scandalized by my thoughts, I tore my eyes away from Troy’s hip bones and glanced up. To my horror, our eyes connected through my rearview mirror as he stared back at me, one cocky eyebrow arched and his signature half-smile quirked. Crap. This is beyond awkward.

  “Ugh, is it possible to die of embarrassment?” I murmured to myself. I didn’t think that this day could get any worse after this morning’s news about Winnie. I guess fate wanted to prove me wrong. I already need a do-over button to press for today, and it’s not even ten am.

  I threw open the driver’s side door and walked around to the passenger’s side without looking in Troy’s direction. A moment later, he sat half-naked in the driver’s seat of my Jeep. I buckled my seatbelt and stared out the passenger’s side window and tried to ignore the scent of Troy’s body, which smelled like forest rain, earth, and heady masculine musk. Instead, I focused on how I would best explain this scene to my big sister, who would undoubtedly be all over my shit about showing up late and with a half-naked Troy behind the wheel of my vehicle.

  Troy eased the Jeep back onto Preacher Road and headed toward the lodge. “So, how are you? This is the first time we’ve seen one another since—”

  I turned toward him, forcing my eyes to stay focused on his face and not wander down his beautiful body. “I left for Paris?” I asked, talking over him.

  “Well, yes. But I was going to say, since we spent the night together.”

  Ugh! Of course you’d bring up that night the first chance you get.

  ”Oh, that’s right,” I said as if I didn’t remember him with his face between my thighs and us waking up together the next morning or being utterly fucking crushed because of April Kline’s sexts.

  His forehead wrinkled, and he cast a doubtful glance my way but didn’t remark on it. “Anyway, how was Paris? Your sister said that you were busy helping Winnie after her health scare.”

  “Fine.”

  “How are things going for Winnie?”

  My stomach muscles tightened at the mention of my business partner’s name. “What do you mean? Is she okay, or is our business okay? Because one is and the other definitely isn’t,” I said, defensively.

  “I’m glad that Winnie’s okay, El. And I’m confident that you’ll get things going in the right direction again soon business-wise,” said Troy turning the Jeep onto Brocker Lodge Drive.

  “Well, based on what Max Palmer has to say, everyone is rooting against me,” I said, firmly.

  “I don’t think I’d take his word for gospel’s truth, El. A lot of people are cheering for you. I know I am,” said Troy, slanting his eyes my way, as if trying to get a read on me.

  “Thanks,” I grumbled.

  Troy sighed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, El. I’m sorry that you saw those pictures from stupid, fucking April Kline. She’s like her cousin, Max, misguided and entitled. I’m not interested in her and told her, much to my professional detriment. But, anyway, look, I can’t even think
about her because I’ve been too busy thinking about, worrying about, and dreaming about you. Had Sammie given me Winnie’s Paris address, I would’ve flown to France.”

  I huffed out a laugh. “Look, it doesn’t matter. We weren’t going to work out anyway. You’re an old geezer, and I’m a free bird, remember?” I said, rolling my eyes but internally, my heart was singing, and my pulse was racing over his words.

  He chuckled, and the low rumble from his chest sounded deep and genuine. A small part of me was pleased that I was able to make him laugh, and warmth spread through my stomach. I involuntarily swept my eyes up and down his muscled torso and solid legs. Troy had the uncanny ability to look relaxed while maintaining good posture. He sat with his legs spread wide, one strong hand wrapped around the top of the steering wheel, his other hand rested on his thickly muscled thigh, his elbow almost grazed mine as we shared the center console between us, and I almost wanted to laugh at how the small sensation made me tingle.

  He had thought about me, worried about me and even dreamed about me. I was captivated by his protector aura. No wonder other women tripped over their feet when Troy showed up.

  The enormous stone pillared porte-cochere of Brocker Lodge loomed large ahead of us, and I was surprised when Troy drove past it. We travelled the length of the modern design of dark-stained lumber paired with traditional Pennsylvania fieldstone. Most of the massive modern, wooden structure was crafted with locally sourced materials and gave it the uncanny ability to blend into the environment despite its size.

  Troy turned down the nearly concealed drive that the Brockers called “the family entrance.”

  “You’re thick as thieves with the Brocker brothers now, aren’t you? All it took was one hired arsonist to try to burn down my family’s inn for your friendship to blossom. How cute,” I teased.

  “He was a little more than an arsonist, El. And I hope that you don’t joke around about that asshole to Sam. That incident was traumatic. But, yeah, Owen and his brothers are good guys. I admit, I never thought I'd be saying that about a pack of billionaires from Clear Creek. Jesus, I guess miracles do happen.”

  I laughed, momentarily forgetting that I was keeping up my emotional wall. “Aw, the love story between Frost Forest and Clear Creek is going strong.”

  Troy eased the Jeep into a parking spot near the private entrance to the lodge that was only used by Brockers and their guests. “I might rephrase that to the love story between Frost Forest and the Brockers is going strong. What about you?”

  I looked over and arched a brow. “What about me?”

  “Any Frenchmen sweep you off your feet while you were away?”

  His question shocked me. Did he really think I could’ve moved on from him a matter of weeks? “None worthy enough to write home about,” I said, cutting the tension.

  “Were you possibly thinking about a boy back home?” he murmured, his eyes sparkled, and for a moment, I allowed myself to get a little lost in their stormy depths.

  “You know how I feel about boys. I avoid them. That love stuff isn’t for me,” I murmured back and broke eye contact.

  He sighed. “I hate to say it, but I don’t blame you. That love stuff isn’t for me either.”

  I tucked my wild waves behind my ears and then silently cursed when I saw how Troy’s lips twitched with a smile over my nervous tick. I took a breath and asked the question that I had been dreading since careening off the side of Preacher Road. “How should we explain this to my family? What do you think we should tell them?”

  Troy’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “No one got hurt, the Jeep’s running. We don’t have to tell them anything if you don’t want to.”

  I CRUMPLED THE DELIVERY notice in my hand and marched to the wet bar to pour a glass of pinot while ignoring the three sets of arched brows from my sisters, and the fact that it was well before noon.

  “Eloise,” chided Sammie, leaning back in her leather chair with a glass of iced water sitting in front of her on the conference table. She had resumed playing her role as mother hen the moment I had walked through the door.

  Shut it, sisters! I am losing my business, and I almost ran over my should-be lover. I deserve a drink.

  I locked eyes with her and raised the wine glass to my lips and took a defiant gulp. “You’re not my mother. And it’s almost lunchtime.” I said and hated how defensive I sounded.

  “Lunch? It's barley brunch,” said my little sister, Rose, without tearing her eyes from her cell as she texted her boyfriend.

  Boyd, her boyfriend, had been upset that his trip to Elys Island had been cut short and was no doubt pitching a royal fit via text.

  “It’s a perfectly reasonable hour to have a drink in Paris,” I say, glancing at the bottle so I could pick up another one later once I escaped my sisters.

  They had flown home from Elys Island early to be here in Frost Forest for me once I returned from Paris. I’d told them that there was no need to fly back on my account and that what I needed most was some alone time.

  “You’re not in Paris anymore,” said Rose, who finally put down her cell.

  “Your observational skills are top-notch, Rose. But cut me break, would you? I was in Paris less than twenty-four hours ago, and I’m still jet-lagged all to hell,” I said, and immediately wished I were back there, but Winnie, my former business partner, wasn't there anymore anyway.

  Winnie was back in St. Tropez at her summer home and under the care of a team of world-class cardiologists. She’d begun working with her small army of financial advisors to execute her immediate retirement from all of her businessesーincluding oursーand to focus all efforts on her health. Winnie’s brush with death made her realize that there were things she wanted to do, places she wanted to go, and it was time to retire from the tea business. I sighed and set down my wine glass.

  “Jet-lagged and grumpy,” murmured Rose.

  “There’s a very good reason for that,” I growled.

  Sam sighed. “So, things didn’t turn out the way you thought they would. All you can do is try again,” she said. She shrugged her delicate shoulders and calmly threaded her fingers together on the conference table as though we were discussing a failed recipe rather than my hopes and dreams for the future.

  A humorless laugh escaped my throat and I took another sip of wine. The idea of trying again didn’t scare me, but the idea of doing it alone terrified me. “Sam, you don’t understand. You’re married to a billionaire. You live in a forest palace down the road from this place, your luxurious lodge. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you have everything you could possibly want. You just don’t know what it’s like to struggle for anything anymore.”

  Sam closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her freckle-kissed nose as her pin-straight, fire-red hair fell forward, mimicking the closing of a curtain. “I knew that I should’ve meditated longer before calling this meeting this morning,” she murmured.

  I prickled. “I told you not to take it the wrong way.”

  Rose decided to pitch in and sagely added, “And as for your business blues, a great man once said, “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try, sometimes—”

  “Don’t say it,” I growled.

  “You just might find—”

  “Oh, Jesus,” I breathed.

  “You get what you need,” finished Rose, incredibly proud of herself.

  I glanced over at her young, beautiful, and unburdened features and pondered murderous thoughts. “Thank you, Mick Jagger. That was altogether unhelpful.”

  Rose winked. “Anytime.”

  Abby made a concerted effort not to smile, and she wisely bit her bottom lip when her lips started wobbling.

  I squared my shoulders and pasted an amicable smile on my face. “Listen, loves, thanks so much for flying home and gathering at the lodge this morning for my sake. It’s sweet of you, really. But, if I’m honest, the only thing on my agendaーpossibly the only thing I am capable of todayーis drinking the rest of t
his bottle of pinot,” I said.

  “You did that yesterday, didn’t you?” asked Abby.

  “No. Yesterday, I slept. Today I’m going to allow myself a day to wallow over my woes. I have a literal mountain of boxed herbal and medicinal tea being delivered to the inn sometime next week, nowhere to store the boxes, let alone ideas on how to sell the stuff since our store retailers backed out of contracts after Winnie announced her retirement. Thank God, Chloe will be back in the office on Monday. I need to process everything and come up with a plan,” I said and rubbed the growing tension spot on the back of my neck.

  “Why do you act like you have to do this all by yourself?” asked Rose.

  Because anytime I start to rely on someone they leave. Moving forward, I’m only going to rely on myself. “Because, for right now, I need to be alone to think,” I said.

  My sisters spoke over one another simultaneously.

  “Absolutely not,” said Sam.

  “Bad idea,” said Rose.

  “Let us help,” Abby pleaded.

  I tried to explain. “When Winnie had her heart attack and stepped down, tea-blend production didn’t stop, but our major store venues dropped out. Apparently, no one is interested in doing business with just me.”

  My sisters looked unconvinced. They were a tough crowd that didn't tolerate cowardly behavior.

  “Look, I just spent the last three weeks running back and forth between hospitals in Paris and St. Tropez and meeting and speaking with so many French doctors, that I’m pretty sure I can add bilingual to my resume. Plus, in the midst of that shit storm I orchestrated moving Winnie into her summer house in St. Tropez while trying to dodge Winnie’s creepy nephew. So some important business appointments and commitments went by the wayside, okay.”

  Sam leveled me with a hard stare. “One, you don't give up. Ever. Two, you don’t know if the store venues won’t work with just you, because you didn’t give them a chance. And three, you can’t fill our inn with tea, leaving no room for guests! I realize that you're upset, but I cannot believe that you cancelled all the guest reservations for the entire summer. What the hell, Eloise! You have Brocker backing. You didn’t think we could find another place to store your tea?”