Protected by a Hero

by Susan Stoker, Cristin Harber, Cora Seton, Lynn Raye Harris, Kaylea Cross, Katie Reus, Tessa Layne

  Of course, the prospect of getting to see its intriguing, sexy owner on a daily basis wasn’t too much of a hardship, either.

  Grinning to himself, he reached over and rubbed the top of Grits’s head. “Things might be looking up after all, buddy.” Those creepy-ass texts aside, his second meeting with Austen had gone way better than the first.

  He was already looking forward to seeing her again next time.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Austen hefted another armful of debris into the Dumpster next to the front porch and paused to wipe the back of her wrist across her sweaty face. Her T-shirt was stuck to her back and chest, beads of sweat trickling down her forehead and it wasn’t even noon yet.

  The humidity here was surprisingly bad for May. She had no AC in the house yet, since they were still in the process of stripping out all the old electrical system, so the only ventilation was provided by the open windows and doors.

  In short, this was gonna be a hell of a long day for all of them. But hey, at least she had help. Wyatt had called with a quote four days ago. She’d looked the numbers over, decided they were fair, and accepted. He and his crew had started the next day.

  She trudged back up the steps on the front porch, past one of the guys who was prepping the exterior for paint, scraping off the old layers and giving everything a good sanding. Inside, two guys from Wyatt’s crew were helping her gut what was left of the kitchen.

  Scott and Eddie were both combat-wounded vets, but their injuries weren’t visible like Wyatt’s and the others’ were. Everyone had been polite and respectful so far but the intent way Eddie watched her sometimes gave her the creeps.

  Aside from that he seemed to be a hard worker and Wyatt had vouched for each guy on the crew he’d brought with him, so that made her feel better. She just made sure she was never alone in a room with Eddie, and gave him a wide berth whenever she could.

  Scott and Eddie both stopped their demo of one of the kitchen walls when she came in, their arms and faces glistening with sweat and coated with powdery drywall dust. “Man, it’s so humid today,” Scott groaned, mopping at his face with the hem of his shirt.

  “I know,” she said, dreading what the humidity would be like in July and August. “Wyatt went to get us another generator so we could hook up a few room fans. He should be back soon.”

  “Not soon enough,” another guy said as he hit the bottom of the main staircase. “It’s gotta be over a hundred degrees up in that attic.”

  Austen winced in sympathy. At this rate, her crew would be completely melted and useless by lunchtime. “I’m gonna make a drink run to the café,” she announced. The guys brought their own drinks and she had cases of water and Gatorade for everybody on site but the ice in the cooler was already melted and she wanted to get them something cold. “What do you guys want?”

  She took everyone’s order—seven in all—and jumped in her truck, feeling only slightly guilty as the AC blasted out of the vents all over her hot face and neck. At the Garden of Eatin’ she placed the orders and picked up fruit salad and other refreshing snacks for the guys. Piper was just pulling into a parking spot out front when Austen came out.

  “Feeding a crowd?” Piper asked her, smoothing her hands over the charcoal-gray pencil skirt that hugged her hips and thighs. Her makeup was light and tasteful but there were shadows beneath her eyes that even makeup couldn’t conceal. Was everything okay?

  “I’m worried the guys at the house are gonna melt on me. Melted crews aren’t productive.”

  Piper’s hazel eyes brightened, making the shadows less noticeable. “Oh, you found someone?”

  “Wyatt. It’s his crew.”

  A bright smile lit up her face. “That’s great news. You won’t regret it.”

  “Drop on by whenever you like. And when it’s all done, I’d love to have you over to see the finished product.”

  “I’d love that, thanks.”

  Austen drove back to the house, making the most of the remaining minutes of air conditioning. When she turned down the driveway her heart gave a quick little leap at the sight of Wyatt climbing out of his truck, his broad shoulders outlined by the snug fit of his light gray T-shirt, and a pair of well-worn jeans hugging his sexy butt.

  The man certainly revved her dormant libido. It took her off guard since she hadn’t been attracted to anyone since John died, and because Wyatt didn’t exactly seem overly fond of her. He was quiet and serious, had a gruff way about him, was all business around her.

  She parked beside him just as he hefted the generator out of the bed of his truck, giving her an eyeful of the way the muscles in his arms and chest bulged. She’d worked around fit men most of her life, but something about Wyatt made her belly flutter in the most delicious way. All this time she’d thought that part of her had died along with John, but maybe not.

  Climbing out with the trays of food and drinks, she smiled when she saw Grits sitting in the driver’s seat of Wyatt’s truck, watching her. “Brought your furry copilot with you, huh?” she said to Wyatt.

  “Cavaliers are really prone to separation anxiety, and he’s already had a rough start so I figure it’s best that I just bring him with me.”

  “Uh huh,” she said in a dry voice. After what Piper had told her, she wasn’t buying the detached, analytical act. Not when it came to Grits, anyhow. “And it’s got nothing to do with him being an adorable little sweetheart who thinks the earth revolves around you.”

  The hint of a grin twitched at the corners of his mouth, the closest thing he ever gave to a smile. That intrigued her too, made her wonder what it would take to make him laugh. She had no doubt that seeing a real smile from him would take her breath away. “Nope.”

  “Course not,” she murmured. “I just did a drink run and I wasn’t sure what you’d want so I picked you up a sweet tea at the café. I noticed you drinking one the other day.”

  “I appreciate it, thanks.” He nodded toward the house, the muscles in his arms bulging as he held the generator with apparent ease. It had been forever since a man had held her, and the thought of those strong arms wrapped around her filled her with a deep longing that surprised her. “Just gonna get this set up so we can get the fans going.”

  “Perfect.” She let him go first, stood there a moment to admire the flex of the muscles in his back and ass as he hauled the piece of equipment into the house. Didn’t it figure that her libido would suddenly come back to life for a man who wanted nothing to do with her outside of a paycheck?

  Watching him, it was hard to tell he’d lost his foot and lower leg. He never hinted that it was bothering him, never let it stop him or even slow him down, at least as far as she could tell. He oversaw everything in a quiet, methodical way, yet the biggest thing she noticed about how he worked was his calmness.

  Maybe it came from his time in the Marines or from being in combat, she wasn’t sure, but he had an innate confidence that drew people to him. Without a doubt he was a natural leader. He didn’t expect anything of his guys that he wouldn’t do himself, and it was obvious that they all looked up to him.

  She’d worked with people like him before as a firefighter, but in her experience, leaders like that were rare. Seemed like Piper was right. Hiring Wyatt and his crew was the best thing she could have done for herself since moving to Sugar Hollow.

  After dropping off drinks and food to all the guys, she headed outside to carry in one of the fans while Wyatt took the other and Grits pranced at his feet. “You okay carrying that?” Wyatt asked her. “It’s heavy.”

  “I’m good,” was all she said, shouldering the industrial-sized fan and hauling it inside. If she hadn’t been so used to questions like that from guys, it might have annoyed her. Even men she’d worked with at the fire hall had questioned her ability to handle the physical demands of the job at first, but she’d quickly proved them wrong.

  Wyatt’s phone rang and she noticed the tight look on his face when he spoke to whoever it was. He even stepped out onto
the porch to talk to the person, and his expression made it clear he didn’t like what he was hearing.

  “Everything okay?” she asked when he came back inside a minute later.

  He nodded and got to work setting up the other fan without looking at her. “Just some news I was waiting on.”

  Not happy news, that much was obvious.

  He didn’t elaborate and she didn’t press, although she wanted to. Wyatt was tough to read. He’d softened toward her somewhat since starting the job, at least compared to the first time they’d met, and she didn’t want to lose any of the ground she’d gained with him by sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.

  “How are the guys doing? You feeling good about their work so far?” he asked as he connected some extension cords.

  She reached down to pat Grits, who had run over to insert himself between her open knees as she set up one of the fans. “So far, so good,” she answered, declining to mention that Eddie made her uncomfortable sometimes. If it got too bad she’d tell him. “Everything lining up okay with the tradespeople?”

  “Mostly. Still a few gaps here and there. Did you go over that list I gave you?”

  The list containing options for various materials he’d given her yesterday. Mostly she was concerned with cost and wanted to opt for the least expensive materials, but in some cases that could turn around and bite her in the ass later. Cheaper wasn’t always better in the long run. “Almost done. Just a couple more things for me to look into.”

  “I’d like to talk about them as soon as possible, so I can order everything and have it here in plenty of time.”

  She nodded. “This afternoon?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve gotta take my dad to an appointment.”

  “Oh. Maybe over dinner?”

  At that he stiffened and his face went rigid, almost as if she’d hit a sore spot. “I don’t really like eating out.”

  “Oh,” she said again. Why not? “I’d offer to cook but my kitchen’s not all that functional right now.” As she said it, Eddie and Scott started back up with their sledgehammers.

  One side of Wyatt’s mouth pulled up in a sexy grin and his eyes met hers, sending a shock of awareness through her. “Yeah, I guess not. I could… You could come over to my place if you want. I’m not a good cook, but I can pick us up something.”

  “No need, I’ll grab us dinner and bring it over.”

  Wyatt stood, shaking his head. “No, I’ll do it. What do you like?”

  She shrugged. “I’m easy. Whatever you like is fine by me. What time?” She pushed a sweaty strand of hair out of her face, could just imagine how she must look—the texture of her hair gave it a mind of its own and right now it had to be all frizzy, like she’d stuck her finger in a light socket.

  “Seven.”

  “Okay. Where do you live?”

  “I’ll text you the address.” He flipped the switch on the fan she’d just put up. Immediately a rush of cool air washed over her.

  She closed her eyes and let out a heartfelt sigh of appreciation. “God, that feels good.” When she opened her eyes her pulse tripped when she saw him watching her, an expression of pure masculine hunger on his face that disappeared so fast she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it.

  He cleared his throat, looked away. “I’ll go set this one up in the attic for Barry,” he said, grabbing the other fan. “Come on, Grits.”

  Kneeling there on the floor she watched him go, and told herself it was the cool rush of the fan that made her break out in goose bumps and pebbled her nipples against the cups of her bra, not that look she’d just seen from the hard, sexy man walking away from her.

  * * *

  At six she called it a day and packed up her tools. Her back ached and she no doubt stank of sweat but it had been a good day.

  The crew had left thirty minutes ago and between all of them they’d managed to do most of the demo on the main floor in just three days. The electrician Wyatt had hired was due in tomorrow to get things started, and the plumber a few days from now, along with the HVAC people.

  Back at her motel room she stepped under the spray of a lukewarm shower that felt like heaven against her sweaty skin and scrubbed herself clean. Shaved, shampooed and moisturized, she put on a sleeveless, pale yellow sundress and open-toed sandals that showed off her pedicured toes.

  It’s not a date, she told herself as she applied light eye makeup in the bathroom mirror. Still, she wanted to look her best. And if tingles raced through her belly every time she thought about that hungry look on Wyatt’s face, she couldn’t help it. The man was sexy despite his gruff exterior and she was insanely curious about him.

  To the west, the setting sun painted the sky in bold strokes of ruby and pink as she drove down the country road to the address Wyatt had texted her. The countryside out here was nothing short of spectacular, all rolling green fields nestled against the mountains.

  Turning right at the driveway marked by the mailbox reading The Colebrooks, she caught her breath when the main house came into view. The rosy light from the sunset made the yellow two-story farmhouse glow. Its grounds were immaculate, the garden beds out front tidy and the grass cut.

  Beyond the house, pastures bordered either side of the property, and a paddock sat out front of a wide red barn. To the right of it sat the cabin Wyatt lived in, a miniature version of the main house, complete with a wraparound porch enclosed by a white-painted railing.

  Snagging the bottle of white wine from the passenger seat, she smoothed down the skirt of her dress and tried to ignore the nervous flutter in the pit of her stomach. The moment she stepped onto the front porch she heard Grits barking, then his little face appeared on the other side of the screen door. His ears lowered in recognition, his body swaying with the force of his wagging tail.

  “Hey, little man. Is your human home?”

  “Right here.” Wyatt appeared in the opening, dressed in a dark-button down shirt and a pair of dark jeans. A surge of arousal hit her as she took in the sight of him, those big shoulders practically filling the doorframe. “Come on in.”

  She swept past him, getting a whiff of his clean, masculine scent that made her pulse beat faster. The entryway led directly into a kitchen that was small but clean, and being alone with him here felt intimate.

  She held out the bottle, put on a smile. “I’m not sure if you drink it, but I brought us some wine.”

  “Oh. Thanks.” He took it from her and went to a cabinet next to the fridge. “You want some?”

  “Love a glass, thanks.” She glanced around the space, taking in the layout. “It’s so cozy and bright in here.” Off the kitchen sat a living room with a rock fireplace, and beyond that, a porch that overlooked the fields beyond.

  “Best part is the view off the back porch. We can sit out there after we eat.”

  “Sounds good. What are we having?”

  His lips twitched again. “Italian takeout.”

  “Yum. My favorite.” She accepted the wineglass with a murmur of thanks. “Can I help with anything?” She got the feeling he didn’t often invite people over for dinner.

  “No, just make yourself at home while I get everything set out.”

  Austen sipped at the crisp, cold wine as she wandered through into the living room. She loved the feel of the cabin, masculine without being unwelcoming, and snug. Her gaze caught on some pictures set on the mantel above the fireplace. An urn sat in the center of it, a dog collar wrapped around it.

  Stepping closer, her heart lurched when she saw the framed photo of Wyatt before he’d been wounded. He was dressed in his combat utilities, on one knee beside a shepherd-breed military dog. God, just look at him. A true all-American hero. He was wearing sunglasses, a wide, proud smile stretching across his smooth, clean-shaven face.

  Seeing him like that, prior to the hell he must have endured after being wounded, sent a sharp pain through her chest. Realizing what the urn held put an unexpected lump in her throat.

&nbs
p; His quiet footfalls sounded behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see him paused in the doorway, his expression unreadable. “Was this Raider?” she asked of the picture, using the name etched into the urn.

  Wyatt nodded. “Lost her in Afghanistan. The day this happened.” He gestured to the scarred side of his face.

  “I’m sorry. What kind of dog was she, a shepherd?”

  “No. Belgian Malinois.”

  She didn’t know much about the breed, except that they were used a lot by military and law enforcement. “I’m sorry,” she repeated softly, wishing she knew what else to say. “That must have been hard.” As soon as she said it she mentally cringed. Seriously? That sounded so stupid, even though it had been sincere.

  A muscle flexed in his jaw, then he nodded. “Yeah.” He straightened, his posture and expression making it clear the topic was closed. “You hungry?”

  Wishing she could somehow undo the last two minutes, she nodded and followed him into the kitchen, determined to try and salvage the rest of the evening.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Throughout dinner Wyatt tried not to stare at Austen but he couldn’t help being distracted every time her lush lips closed around a forkful of food. Damn she was sexy, even more so because she seemed unaware of it.

  Seeing her on his front porch earlier in that pretty yellow dress that showed off her toned arms and legs had kindled the hunger inside him. She’d left her hair down, all those springy dark curls bouncing around her shoulders and making him wonder if they’d wrap around his fingers if he ran his hand through them. In the overhead light above the kitchen table her creamy brown skin seemed to glow, her dark lashes making the silver-gray color of her eyes even more vivid.

  She twirled pasta around her fork and slid it between her lips, her eyes meeting his. They crinkled slightly at the corners as she smiled and he was glad there was no lingering awkwardness after the abrupt end to their brief conversation about Raider. He didn’t like talking to people about his military working dog, or that day, because experience had shown that civilians didn’t understand, and they said stupid things in an attempt to make him feel better, when in reality it just pissed him off.