Stirring Attraction

by Sara Jane Stone

  Her feelings needed to shut the hell up, she thought as she stared at him. “Dominic, why are you here?” Lily asked. “Why did they make you come back?”

  “To keep you safe.”

  “You refused to come home after you were discharged, after you couldn’t serve. But now you show up because Josie and Noah claim I need a bodyguard?”

  He raised his right hand to his beard as if to remove the berries and then thought better of it. “Lily—­”

  “Did they tell you that the police, including your father, think I was in the wrong place at the wrong time?” she demanded. “Did Ryan explain how everyone else believes he was just some crazy person who wanted to slash my face to leave scars . . .”

  Her voice broke as his familiar green eyes shone with pity at her words.

  “Yes,” he said simply. “Ryan told me.”

  “So you came back to protect me from what exactly?” she said, hating that he looked at her as if she’d given in to fear. “My own shadow? The man out to get me that no one believes exists?”

  He nodded.

  No, no, no! I refuse to let him back into my life now.

  “Well, if everyone is so damn concerned about me, if everyone thinks I need a bodyguard—­”

  “It’s not like that,” he said firmly. “They’re worried and they want you to feel safe. It doesn’t matter if someone is out there or not. If you don’t feel safe, if you need someone to stand guard outside your house and watch the doors, make sure no one is climbing in the windows . . . I can do that.”

  Lily let out a laugh. After all this time, after all her attempts to build a future with this man, he’d come back to patrol her street. But she wanted a false sense of security about as much as she wanted empty promises.

  I’ll try to make it work, Lil. I promise.

  But then he’d deploy with his rangers and send an email listing a bunch of bullshit reasons why she was better off without him. And then after he’d been shot . . .

  I’m no good for you, Lil. Look at me. I’m all busted up. I don’t want you wasting your life taking care of me. You’ve done that once. I won’t let you do it again.

  Well, now she was broken too. And she refused to let him waste his time watching out for a threat he didn’t believe existed.

  No, she wanted security. She needed to feel safe to move through her life, knowing they’d identified and caught her assailant. But Dominic Fairmore was nothing more than a quick fix that would offer a false refuge only to pull it away. She couldn’t trust him to stay, to help her, or to believe her.

  “If I need a bodyguard, I choose her,” Lily said, pointing to the woman who wore combat boots to clean dishes. “I want the woman who knows how to throw a pie at my supposedly nonexistent bogeyman.”

  Chapter Four

  DOMINIC LICKED HIS lips. He could taste the sugar from the pie and recognized the Oregon berry. Hell, it was like being assaulted with a blast from his past as soon as he arrived in town. Ryan had shoved him off the red-­eye flight, directed him to the car rental counter, and handed him the key to Noah’s bar. Then his childhood friend had boarded a flight home to the air force base.

  And Dominic had driven back in time. He could practically hear his mom laughing as he licked the bowl. The smell of fresh pie used to fill the farmhouse kitchen once upon a time. And then one day it had stopped. His mother had succumbed to a heart condition no one knew she had, leaving behind a son who wanted to make damn sure he left his mark on the world before his life was cut short.

  Yeah, one helluva mark.

  He glanced down at his injured hand. He’d tried to wipe the food from his face and his damn fingers had failed to comb through his beard.

  He looked up at Lily, his eyes searching for the scars. He wanted to see what that bastard had done to her. But her long blond hair caught his attention and new memories swirled to life. His hands wrapped in her long locks . . . pulling her head back as he pressed into her from behind . . .

  Fuck.

  He looked away and fought to control the unwelcome need rushing through him. But this was Lily, the only woman he’d ever made love to, the only woman he’d craved since he was a teenager Though if he added up Lily’s desire to have the petite dark-­haired woman protect her, the one who had used a pie as a weapon simply because she couldn’t shoot him, and the fact that Lily had tried to hit him with her wine glass, he could quickly reach the conclusion that her feelings didn’t mirror his.

  Lily wanted him gone. She didn’t want his help. And he’d bet that if he tried to touch her, she would throw something else at him. He didn’t want to think about what she’d do if he attempted to revisit that place where he could sink into her and love her.

  Beating back his desire, he stole another glance at her face. This time he spotted the proof that someone had taken a knife to her. A thin line ran down her cheek. It was fading, but still visible. He knew other cut marks lay beneath her long-­sleeve crew-­neck shirt. Behind the picture of the old mechanical Big Buck’s bull across her torso, one slash had come close to tearing up her stomach and hitting her internal organs. Ryan had filled him in on the details on the flight.

  He looked up, straight into her beautiful blue eyes. There was a ferocity there that threatened to break him. She was still so damn beautiful. But the sweet innocence was gone. And he didn’t see a trace of the playful humor she’d reserved for him.

  Or maybe someone else now. . .

  His jaw tightened and he swallowed in an attempt to beat back the jealousy. He’d lived with it on and off for years, telling himself she was better off with someone who wasn’t hell-­bent on being a soldier first and a man second.

  But if she had someone, where the hell was he? Why was she eating pie in a closed bar in the middle of the night?

  “No,” the other woman said, shattering the taut silence. “I can’t. I can’t keep anyone safe. Not when I still . . . I can’t.”

  “Caroline, I wasn’t asking,” Lily said. “I just need him to leave.”

  The other woman—­Caroline—­took a step back and moved to the side of the bar. “Let’s call Noah.”

  Lily nodded as if this was a good idea.

  “No,” he said. “Don’t bother him now. It’s the middle of the night. I’ll go. But I’m not leaving town. I’ll be out there, watching over you, Lily. I’ll stay in my car and patrol the street. So you go on home and lock your doors. And tonight, try to get some sleep. Because no one is getting past me.”

  “You’re going to sleep in your car?” she said.

  “I didn’t say anything about sleep.” He stole combat naps, but never sleep. Then tomorrow when she went to work, he’d talk to Noah, his dad—­anyone who might be able to help him find the son of a bitch who’d hurt her. He didn’t care if her assailant had targeted her or not—­Dominic was going to make damn sure Lily knew the bastard would never hurt her again. “But I’m not leaving you, Lil. Not until I know you feel safe.”

  “You don’t really believe there’s a threat out there,” she said, her eyes narrowing.

  He studied the woman he saw every damn time he closed his eyes. Beneath her work shirt and jeans, she still possessed curves designed to bring his need to a boiling point. She looked the same apart from the still-­angry slash marks. But he could see from here that she didn’t feel the same.

  That makes two of us.

  “It doesn’t matter what I believe,” he said. “How you feel—­that’s all I give a damn about.”

  She let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Now you choose to care about my feelings?”

  He nodded. What the hell could he say? That he wanted the world for her? That he always had? But he’d never been the guy to put her first and he damn well knew it. And now, he was a broken mess.

  “I’m going to find him, Lil. The man who hurt you.” He turned to the door and pul
led it open. “I’ll be in my car whenever you’re ready to head home.”

  DOMINIC REACHED FOR the mega-­sized coffee cup and came up empty. He’d run out just as the sun was high in the Oregon sky. But he had feeling Lily wouldn’t wake up anytime soon. Sure, they’d driven to her quiet cul-­de-­sac not long after the pie-­throwing incident in the bar. But she’d spent the next hour or so walking through her house, turning lights on and off as if she needed to check behind every door.

  And then she’d fallen asleep with the curtains pulled open, her hand resting on the windowsill, and her face turned toward him.

  He hadn’t moved since. Sure, he could use a nap. And he needed to wash the berry pie out of his beard once he got out of this car. Positioning the empty coffee cup back in the holder, he shifted in his seat. The baby-­blue rental sedan felt cramped compared to the truck he’d left behind in Georgia.

  He’d thought about coming home a time or ten. He’d debated asking his dad for a job with the police force. Only he couldn’t shoot. Maybe one day, with more physical therapy . . . but that day had moved further and further away as his physical therapy stagnated. The nerves in his hand refused to respond. So he’d stopped going. He’d given up.

  With the way the sunlight hit her bedroom window, he couldn’t see inside. He could picture the pink walls. He’d peered inside once. Of course, her mother had hovered nearby to make damn sure he kept his feet planted firmly in the hall. But he’d glanced enough to know her walls matched her favorite nail polish color. And just thinking about those pink toes . . .

  He glanced down at his lap and willed himself not to feel a thing. He couldn’t want her. They’d traveled down that road and hit too many dead ends. She’d built a life here. And his had taken him to places he didn’t want to remember. He’d fought through nightmares, so damn determined to make it all worthwhile, until one man with a gun had stripped away his sense of purpose.

  And if they couldn’t make their relationship work when he was something—­a soldier, a ranger—­Lily wouldn’t want him now. Even if they got past her desire to hurl things at him for daring to come home to watch over her, he had a feeling she’d still be pissed he hadn’t shown up years earlier looking for her heart.

  Knock.

  His head turned to the passenger side window and his gaze locked on Lily. She’d exchanged her work clothes for black athletic shorts and a hot-­pink long-­sleeve top. Her blond hair hung in a long ponytail down her back, and in her hands, she held two steaming mugs.

  He leaned across the car’s center console and opened the passenger side door. “You’re up early,” he murmured.

  “Coming from the man who I’m guessing never closed his eyes last night.” She handed him a mug. “I thought you might need a cup of coffee. It’s black. I haven’t gone grocery shopping in a while, so no milk.”

  “Thank you.” He accepted the cup with his good hand and raised it to his lips. After his first sip, he nodded to the passenger seat. “Care to join me?”

  She climbed into the car, her own mug gripped between her hands. “You can’t live in your car, Dominic. The neighbors will call the cops eventually.”

  “My dad is eager to see me, but I doubt he’ll arrest me,” he said mildly. Having her here, so close, after a long night of watching her sleep and wanting her no matter how much he tried to deny it sent mixed signals to his tired body. And yeah, most of those instructions headed below the belt. He shifted again.

  “Your father’s missed you.” She raised her mug and sipped her coffee. “I’m wondering, what did Ryan have to do to drag you back here? Hog-­tie you?”

  He said your name.

  But now, after she’d welcomed him by hurling things at him, probably wasn’t the best time to tell her he still had feelings for her. She’d probably toss her hot coffee at him if he sat here and explained that he planned to channel his emotions into playing bodyguard.

  “I’d never let that happen,” he said.

  She cocked her head and looked right at him. “That’s what was missing from our relationship. You never let me tie you up.”

  He drank in her sarcastic tone. Then he let out a laugh and shook his head. “That’s going to stay in your wildest fantasies, honey. But I’m sure as . . . sure happy you’re still joking around after everything.”

  “No, not really,” she murmured, her voice flat and humorless now. “Not anymore.”

  “Lil, you can’t let that bastard take that away from you. You can’t move on, shake the memories if—­”

  “Your dad thinks I’m safe,” she said. “The guy from the park—­he’s not after me. And he never was.”

  “But you don’t agree.”

  “You ruined everything.”

  Well shit, that pretty much summed it up, didn’t it?

  And he knew it wasn’t because he’d never let her bind him to the bedposts and have her way with him.

  “That’s what he said,” she continued. “When he attacked me. And those words, his voice . . . it felt personal.”

  “You shared this with my dad?” He worked to keep his tone neutral and not jump to conclusions based on things he shouldn’t feel for her after all this time.

  She nodded. “But all the evidence suggests that he was crazy. That this was a random attack. He didn’t even take my phone.” She lifted her gaze and looked through the front windshield. “I know it was personal.”

  “I believe you.” And hell, he meant it. The Lily he’d known in high school, the girl he’d fallen in love with, the woman who’d cared for her mother when her dad couldn’t handle his wife’s illness—­she was strong. She wouldn’t give in to fear without a reason.

  “I’ll talk to my dad,” he continued. “And until we find him, I don’t mind watching the stars from my car. Though I’m kicking myself for not driving my truck up here. Ryan was so damn determined to get me on that plane.”

  “You’re really staying this time.” Her lips pressed to the rim of her cup.

  “Until we find the guy.” And until you feel like you can fall asleep without checking every corner of your house.

  “Then you’re leaving again. To do what?”

  “I’ll figure something out,” he said. Or he’d spend the rest of his days with his feet resting on a damn box, drinking coffee and staring at his TV. Worthless. Useless. A failure. And sure as hell not worthy of the woman sitting beside him.

  “You want to lick your wounds someplace else, away from your family.”

  He turned and looked into her blue eyes. “I’m not getting any better. The damage is done. And no, I don’t know where to go from here. Hell, if I drank something stronger than coffee, I’d probably lose myself in a drunken haze—­”

  “No, you wouldn’t,” she said. “I’ve never met a man more determined to act, who refused to settle. Life is too short, remember? You said it all the time.”

  “Looks like ‘life’ had the last laugh,” he muttered. “Because it sure as shit broke me.”

  “Not all of you, I hope,” she said.

  “Lily.” And yeah, his tone held a shitload of warning. If she glanced below the belt and teased him with her words . . .

  “You can tell me. Because I get it. Life broke me too,” she said. “But I’m fighting back. I accepted Noah’s job offer because I knew I needed to get out of the house. I can’t hide forever. School starts again at the end of August. I need to be able to face a roomful of five-­year-­olds. Lead them. Teach them. And not rush off to the bathroom and hide because I can’t overcome the panic.”

  Dominic took a long sip of the now warm coffee. He’d fought with dozens of men who wore their bravery like body armor. And he’d been one of them until he’d been hit. Then he’d crumbled. If Ryan hadn’t shown up, he’d still be hiding from the world instead of helping a woman who made army rangers look like pansies.

  “
Planning to follow me everywhere?” she asked, breaking the silence.

  “Yeah.”

  “OK then. Today’s my day off. I’m going back inside to do a workout video. And then, I have a date later. So try not to peer in the windows.”

  I have a date later.

  No longer awestruck by her determination to get back to the kids who needed her, he turned those words over. Lily was too damn special to remain single. And she’d given him plenty of chances. But still . . .

  “Take the mug,” he said.

  “You’re done?” she asked.

  “I don’t want to break it.”

  “Is your hand hurting?” Her brow furrowed as she accepted the mug.

  No, honey. That’s my fucking heart, which came close to stopping once in the middle of a terrorist camp . . . and now here.

  He wanted to take her concern and bottle it up. But that desire pretty much summed up why he hadn’t come home to her.

  “Something like that.” He needed to get a grip on his emotions. “He’s coming over? Your date?”

  She nodded. And yeah, it was a damn good thing he’d handed back the mug. He’d have coffee splattered all over his lap right now and his good hand would be sliced to pieces from the ceramic if he hadn’t returned it to her care.

  “What does he look like?”

  Her blue eyes narrowed as she gripped both mugs. “Why?”

  “I don’t want to hurt him by mistake,” he said. “If he shows up, knocks on your door, hell, I might think he’s here to hurt you.”

  “Ted runs the elementary school literacy program,” she said. “He’s tall, slim, and has blond hair. And his smile . . .”

  Fuck Ted’s smile.

  “Yeah?” he said.

  “When he smiles, he looks sweet and kind,” she added.

  Thank God in heaven, her tone suggested sweetness should be reserved for the coffee in her cup.