His to Protect: A Fireside Novel

by Stacey Lynn

  It was the best place in town to watch a game, and one of the only reasons I hadn’t gone bankrupt yet.

  “Charlie.” The young bartender looked up and grinned when I called his name.

  “What can I do for you, boss?”

  I nodded my head toward Trina. “Get lost and give me five minutes out here.”

  He frowned, but the kid was too friendly all the damn time to care that I just kicked him to the break room. “You got it,” he said and tossed his towel by the sink behind the bar. “You want privacy with your lady friend, I’ll let you have privacy.”

  The sexual innuendo laced in his voice was as obvious as the sky was blue.

  I felt Trina’s embarrassment heating the small space between us.

  “Get the hell out of here or you’re fired.”

  “You threaten me with that at least once a week.” He walked away and let the hinged panel of the bar slam down, instead of closing it slowly. One more thing I could fire the guy for.

  Except women thought he was cute and he knew how to flirt. It was good for tips and business.

  Plus, I actually liked the little shit.

  “One of these times I’m going to mean it.”

  “Promises, promises,” he sang teasingly as he walked away.

  Shaking my head, I couldn’t suppress a small grin. I gestured to Trina. “Have a seat and talk.”

  She listened and something inside me liked the fact that even if I scared her some, even if she was uncertain, she still listened without challenging me.

  There was a time when I liked that about a woman. Someone who trusted me.

  Not only with her heart, but her body.

  But that was a long time ago and I had learned too much about women since then.

  Mostly that they held on to their bitterness and concealed it behind happy smiles well enough that you never knew anything was wrong until they decided to strike.

  Then you were filling out divorce paperwork and discussing how to move on from a decision you had thought was permanent.

  And wow…that was a pathetic leap to somewhere I never let myself go anymore.

  Shaking my head, I slid out a stool next to Trina, then pushed it back to put more space between us.

  “Where’s Boomer?” I asked when Trina let too much time pass and hadn’t started talking.

  This close to her, I could see more than just dark circles beneath her eyes. Her skin was pale and makeup-free, making her healing bruise seem even worse. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail high on her head, but still fell well past her shoulders.

  It was messy, as if she threw it up in a hurry.

  “He’s outside. Out back, actually.” She jerked her head away from the television showing an afternoon talk show and cringed. “I didn’t think you’d mind. But he’ll stay there. He’s tied up.”

  I waved her off. “He’s fine. I’ll have someone bring him some water in a minute.”

  She responded with a twitch of her lips, and her shoulders relaxed. She blew out a breath between pursed lips, and when she spoke again, she shocked the living hell out of me.

  “I thought I could take you up on your offer.”

  My eyebrows lifted. “Offer?”

  “Last night. You offered me a place to stay. I’d like to accept as long as…you know…you meant the other thing you said.”

  Her cheeks pinkened and she looked down at her lap.

  I had to fight back a laugh. The “no fucking where I shit” rule.

  Of course.

  “Why?”

  Another beat of silence that lasted too long. She twisted her fingers together, cracking her knuckles, and said nothing.

  “Trina. If you need help, you’ve got it. No strings, I swear, but I need something from you here, too.”

  Her head snapped up. “Like what?”

  “Like some honesty. What changed between last night and this afternoon?”

  Her gaze darted around the room again, and I stiffened for a worst-case scenario.

  Like, the asshole who beat her had come back. Why else would she come to me?

  “A sudden change in plans,” she finally said, giving me a truth that dripped with hidden secrets. Which would normally be fine, but…

  “If you’re pulling me into the middle of some domestic drama, I think I have a reason to expect the truth when I ask for it.”

  My tone was firm. Deep. My voice a bit raspy. I got a flash of the last time I told a woman to get on her knees for me, using that same voice, and then another memory as the thrill of her obedience washed over me.

  My skin began to prickle with heat at the thought, at the memory, something Mara never appreciated.

  I tried to push that thought away, to focus on the woman in front of me.

  The abused woman.

  Reality splashed over me like the old ice-bucket challenge.

  She nodded and licked her lips. When she opened her mouth to speak, her words came out in a barely audible whisper. “I’ve been planning on heading somewhere far away…where doesn’t matter, I don’t think.” She arched a brow and paused. I waved a hand telling her to continue. Where she was going didn’t matter. “Last night I got back to my hotel and it had been trashed. All my cash and my passport were gone.”

  Her chin trembled…and fuck…

  “So,” she said, fighting the tears filling her eyes. “I need a place to crash. Somewhere for a few days so I can figure out what to do next.”

  “Did you call the police?” I asked, and watched the blood drain from her cheeks.

  “No. No cops.”

  “Trina—”

  She lifted a hand and stopped me. The seriousness in her expression was the most confident I’d seen her yet. “No, absolutely no cops. I can’t.”

  I raised my hands in surrender. “That’s all you need, then? Just a place to crash? How will you get money?”

  She shrugged and her lips twisted. “Haven’t figured that out yet. But I will, and I swear I won’t be an inconvenience or any trouble. Honest.”

  As much as I wanted to believe her, I couldn’t.

  She might not have planned on being any trouble for me, but I had the sinking feeling I was about to walk into a situation that would end up being one huge disaster.

  Not just because she was clearly running from someone, but because of how she made me feel…

  Tempted. Aroused.

  And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

  But even knowing I was about to jump straight into a heap of trouble I didn’t need, I still found myself grinning softly, and said, “Told you last night. Anytime you need help, I’m here.”

  —

  “Your place is really nice,” she said as she walked in. Next to her, Boomer was on a leash, his tail whipping back and forth with excitement.

  “It’s not much,” I admitted, dropping my keys into a ceramic bowl Mara had picked out and left behind. Purple fucking flowers. I hated the thing, yet hadn’t gotten rid of anything she bought yet.

  Not for sentimental reasons. There was nothing sentimental about my feelings for Mara.

  I hadn’t had the time.

  Seeing another woman walk into my home for the first time in six months made me want to find the time.

  Why? Who the fuck knew? I sure didn’t.

  She turned and looked at me, and her wistful expression and soft eyes tightened my chest into knots. I knew exactly what she saw, because my home was like most of the homes in Latham Hills, especially those closest to the downtown area.

  It was a small, three-bedroom two-story. It was also old, with curved and arched doorways and cramped, small rooms. Open-concept wasn’t a thing back in the late forties when the house was built, so all the rooms were walled off.

  “Backyard is this way.” I pointed past the living room and all the decorations that Mara had bought, thinking that if I sold everything, I could probably pay the lease on Fireside for at least two months. The woman had expensive tastes and ha
d never adjusted to a tight budget. I allowed it because it made her happy.

  At least I’d thought it did.

  When I reached the sliding-glass door, I pulled open the vertical blinds, the clatter of plastic on plastic the only sound in the room until Boomer began to whine and press his nose against the glass. I flipped on the outdoor lights and slid the door open.

  “It’s fenced in,” I said, watching Trina try to maintain control of her excited dog. “And the gates are padlocked. It’s safe for him.”

  “It’s beautiful.” She bent down and unclasped Boomer’s leash from his collar. He sat at the door, whining for his freedom, but waited for Trina’s command before he took off.

  Her soft laugh filled the air. “Thank you for this.” She turned to me with an appreciative smile. “It’s been a long time since he’s been able to run free.”

  “Yard’s small.” I shrugged and slid my hands into my back pockets.

  “It’s perfect.” She turned to look out back and I took a minute to figure out what she saw. The yard was small, but mostly private. In the back corner, I had a small triangular area of pines and other bushes that not only offered privacy, but a spot for the fire pit I built last summer when Mara wanted to roast marshmallows.

  She refused to do it over our charcoal grill, so I spent the weekend building her her own private area in the backyard.

  I’d feel like a pussy for it now, being so whipped, but my dad would still do the same crazy shit for my mom if she looked at him the right way, asked him in the right way.

  The problem I had, that I’d learned since Mara walked away, was that she didn’t look or ask the right way—the right way being nicely. She just demanded and nagged until it got done, erasing the joy of providing something for her that would make her happy.

  I shook my head and stepped back from the doorway as Trina slid the screen door shut.

  Outside, Boomer barked.

  “I’ll give you a quick tour if you want,” I told her, and headed toward the kitchen.

  She gave another glance at the dog running in the backyard. I didn’t hide my smile as I watched Boomer jump into a small spread of dead leaves and roll all over them.

  With a wave of my arm, I gestured toward our right. “The kitchen is that way. You saw the living room and we’re in the dining room. Follow me and I’ll show you your room.”

  I heard her soft steps tapping on the tile floor behind me as I headed toward the staircase. It turned halfway up the stairway and when I reached the corner, I looked over my shoulder to ensure she was still following me.

  “You okay?” I arched a brow. Her bottom lip was sucked between her teeth again and there was a rosy glow to her cheeks. When her eyes met mine she glanced at the floor and nodded.

  I frowned at her sudden nervousness. She was probably second-guessing if this was the best decision.

  Because of that, I stopped at the doorway closest to the stairs and waited for her.

  “You can sleep here.” I reached forward and opened the door, but I stayed in the hallway. The room wasn’t much. A small double bed with a plain, white comforter. The walls were a pale yellow and the bed frame was some gray metal thing Mara bought. The room was totally girly, but this was where my parents usually stayed when they came up from their retirement home in Scottsdale, Arizona.

  The roof slanted on the far end where the bedroom window overlooked the backyard. I rarely came in here because I had to duck almost as soon as I was fully inside. Since Mara moved out, the door to this room had stayed closed.

  Her chest brushed against my shoulder as she leaned forward, and a small electric jolt buzzed along my skin when she stepped past me.

  I took a step back into the hallway and gave her space to look around.

  As she did, her eyes softened. That wistful look was back after she’d spun in a complete circle and stood in the middle of the room, looking directly at me.

  “You have the best home ever.”

  She couldn’t possibly mean it. She probably grew up in mansions with servants…probably a lot like my buddy Tyson’s girlfriend, Blue, whose dad was a legit mafia king, until Tyson put the asshole in jail. But I still found myself nodding my appreciation before I gestured down the hallway.

  “My room is at the far end of the hall. I have my own bathroom, so you can have the one in the hallway. Between us, there’s a third room that I use as an office. You can use the computer if you want, but ignore the mess.”

  “I’m sure it’s not too bad.”

  “Sure.” I shrugged and slid my hands into my front pockets. “If the equivalent of a grenade exploding in a nine-by-nine room could be considered not too bad, I’m sure it’s fine.”

  Her lips twitched at the edges. It was the first hint of a smile I’d seen on this woman since I’d met her. I wanted her to keep it, even though I knew I was about to make it evaporate.

  “Trina,” I said and stepped forward, resting my shoulder against the door frame. “Do you want to tell me who hurt you?”

  I was right. Her smile vanished along with the softness in her eyes.

  She blinked and looked away before shrugging. “Someone who I will never let do the same thing again.”

  Her voice quivered, belying her feigned strength and courage.

  It didn’t matter.

  I didn’t have to know who hurt her to admire her. She was strong enough to walk away, to decide enough was enough. This could have been the first time it happened, but I doubted that, too.

  Somehow, this pulled me to her. Even knowing that letting this woman into my home was going to be a complete mind-fuck, it still didn’t change the fact that the more I saw her, the more I wanted to learn.

  I wanted to know who hurt her so I could beat the living shit out of them, even as my brain screamed at me to stay far, far away.

  She was exactly like Mara.

  A woman used to having everything and doing nothing to work for it.

  As I felt my lip curl into a sneer at the thought of my ex, I forced myself to remain calm.

  “I need a drink. Want anything?”

  “Water. Thank you.”

  I nodded toward the stairs. “Come on down when you’re ready.”

  —

  “How long have you lived here?” she asked, sitting down on the living room couch. Boomer had curled up over her feet on one of the cushions after I’d assured her I didn’t give a crap if the dog got up on my furniture.

  The first time he jumped up, her face paled as she pushed him off to the floor.

  The second time it happened, she visibly stiffened when I caught her gaze.

  Based on the terror flashing in her eyes, I realized this was most likely considered a punishable offense by the person who had beaten her. I also figured, based on the tan line on the ring finger of her left hand, that that person was her husband.

  I actually didn’t want the slobbery, shedding mess of a dog on my couch, but I assured her it was fine.

  Mostly, I was damn tired of her flinching and cringing away from me.

  I’d buy a fucking better vacuum to get rid of the dog hair if I had to.

  “A few years. Mara and I…my ex,” I clarified, when she arched a brow, “bought this house just before we were married two years ago.” I pressed my water glass to my lips and took a sip. “She took off just over six months ago.”

  “Is she coming back?”

  I snorted. “Not bloody likely. She’s back in Chicago trying to find a sugar daddy.”

  “Oh.” Trina drew the word out and looked away, as if lost for words.

  I didn’t blame her. I didn’t talk about Mara to anyone except for maybe Tyson and Aidan. Our other friend David was in the middle of finishing up his ER residency at a hospital in Chicago, so he was too busy to talk to any of us frequently, although he did know that Mara left.

  We got drunk one night via Skype on one of our infrequent nights off and toasted heartless women. David’s own girlfriend since college had recen
tly broken up with him after deciding that she was tired of being alone all the time.

  Not that he blamed her. Being a resident was hard work.

  He put in even more hours than I did in the restaurant, and I knew Mara got sick of being alone all the time, too. The difference was that I thought this was something we were building together, but apparently, I was wrong.

  Someone banged loudly on the door, making both of us jump at the sudden sound.

  Sitting on the couch, Trina’s fingers dug into Boomer’s fur, and her eyes shot wide open.

  “I’ll get it,” I said and pushed up off the chair. “But, Trina.” I waited for her to look at me as I walk past her. “While you’re here, no one will hurt you. You have my word.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered and I looked away, frowning while I tried to figure out who could be here.

  “Aw, hell,” I muttered and dropped my head back as I reached the door. “It’s fucking Friday and I totally forgot.”

  “What does that mean?” Trina said from behind me.

  “You’ll know in just a minute.”

  Because it was Friday night at nine o’clock, and I’d promised Aidan that his son Derrick could crash at my place. At thirteen, he was old enough to stay alone at his own house for the night, but Aidan still wasn’t comfortable with that.

  And since Aidan rarely dated, too busy being a single dad and owning his own construction company, I always let Derrick stay here on the nights I was off from the restaurant—which was about as often as Aidan dated.

  “You ready for company?” I asked Trina, turning to see her standing behind me. “Because shit’s about to get interesting.”

  Chapter 5

  Trina

  Interesting?

  I didn’t have time to consider what Declan said when realization began to dawn as he opened the door.

  He had a date?

  My jaw dropped at the thought of a woman coming to get him for a date, then that idea was blown to smithereens as soon as I heard masculine voices drifting inside.

  “I totally fucking forgot, Aidan.”

  “Jesus, Declan. Watch your language.”

  “Not like you don’t say it, Dad.”

  Dad?

  I moved away from the entryway as the door widened and Declan stepped back, still explaining. “The last few days have been crazy and I’ve got some company.”