Dating My Protector

by Kate Swain

  “Um, yeah,” she said, blushing. I was stunned again by those green eyes. Combined with her pink lips, they had the most impossible effect on me – I could feel blood flowing to the most unlikely places as I stared at that soft, pink mouth.

  “Oh,” I said, struggling to bring my mind back from images of her body. “Well, go ahead if you want. It’s not mine, but I know the guy who owns it. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you taking a few pictures of it.”

  “Oh,” she said, and her big eyes contemplated me with that wary mistrust. “Thanks,” she added cautiously. “If you really think he’d be alright with that?”

  “Sure, he would,” I nodded. I did know the owner – he was one of our best customers, a fellow called Tex. He would be very alright with his bike being featured in anything.

  “Thanks,” she said, and took a few steps back, aiming at the bike with her phone. I took a few steps back, but she looked up at me, a little frown on her brow. I felt my whole body respond to the touch of her eyes.

  “What?” I managed to say, realizing that I was standing there and she was looking at me, a stricken expression on her face.

  “Your shadow,” she said carefully. “It’s in the way. If you wouldn’t mind?”

  “Oh!” I blushed, realizing that I was between the bike and the ray of sunshine slanting down from across the parking-space. My shadow was indeed making a dark blob, right in the middle of the chrome details. I stepped back so that I stood behind her.

  I struggled even more from there – from behind her, I could see her tight ass, so perfectly displayed by her jeans. I tried not to look there, but my eyes were drawn to it and my body was fighting with me. I could feel my erection and I really hoped my jacket was capable enough to conceal it. If she noticed, she’d probably be mad.

  “Um, there,” she said, standing up and turning around. “Sorry,” she added again, an awkward smile on her face as she looked up at my expression. “I just wanted to get some shots of that bike. This is a great place for photos,” she added.

  “Really?” that genuinely surprised me. I could see nothing even a tiny bit nice about our yard – I worked here every day, and I always thought it looked gritty and horrible. I loved the outdoors, and green spaces, and this gray, drab environment always stressed me.

  It was her turn to laugh. “It’s got real charisma,” she said, running a hand through her red hair. “Like, a sort of gritty strength, you know? I love the way you can see the signs of wear and tear everywhere. Like, nature always triumphs,” she added, gesturing at a wall where the paint was starting to peel.

  “Wow,” I said, nodding slowly. The idea made me smile. I would never have seen the signs of nature in this manmade environment, nor the fact that nature was winning through. I looked into those green eyes and felt quite amazed.

  She blushed. “It’s nothing, really. Just one of those weird things I think about sometimes.” She scuffed the sidewalk with her toe. I noticed how worn her shoes were, the toe of one almost coming apart from the sole.

  “That’s really smart,” I said quickly.

  She looked up at me in such a surprising way that I wondered if anyone had ever said anything nice to her. I felt my heart twist painfully. It surprised me how very protective I felt at that moment. I recalled her very real fear of us when I saw her with Matt. I wished I could ask her how she’d come to be here in the industrial area.

  “I don’t know about that,” she said, looking hastily down again. “Um…do you work around here?” she asked.

  I grinned. “This is our shop,” I said with no small amount of proprietary pride. Brand’s Bike Shop was where I’d worked since I finished school, and now Mark and I owned some shares in it, along with our elder brother, Carter, who’d begun it. “Well, it belongs to my brothers and me,” I added quickly.

  “Really?” she looked interested. “Like, you own the shop?”

  I grinned. The idea of owning a shop ought not to be so surprising. Not many people would have reacted as if it was something particularly smart, though, so I couldn’t help enjoying it. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m a mechanic,” I added, gesturing with an oil-stained hand.

  “Cool,” she said.

  I was reminded in that moment of how young and vulnerable she looked. The thought tore at my heartstrings and I coughed, looking away, my throat filling with emotions.

  “Um, listen,” I said, not sure why I was saying it. “If you’re around in this neighborhood, you should come up to the shop. It’s not a safe place,” I added.

  She blinked, those big green eyes full of surprise. “Thanks,”” she said. “Um…”

  “I don’t know if you work around here?” I interrupted, recalling what she’d said first, about being a babysitter.

  “Actually, I want to find work,” she said. She let her gaze drop from mine as if she was embarrassed about that.

  I took a deep breath. “You know what?” I asked. “I’m looking for a nanny. I think maybe it’s a kind of work you might like doing? I know, you are a photographer,” I added hastily, in case she was offended. She was clearly into art and was a deep thinker. I didn’t want to categorize her just because she was young.

  She stared at me. Her expression was complex, difficult to read. She could have been upset, offended or just plain confused.

  “I didn’t mean to offend…” I said carefully.

  “Do you mean it?”

  “Sure,” I said, frowning.

  “When can I start?”

  I felt my lips lift in a smile. “You can start tomorrow if you want,” I said. “I would like to interview you, of course, and we’ll need to introduce you to the current nanny, and to my son. Our nanny is going to be staying for a while, but it would be ideal if you could get to know Lucas – that’s my son – during that time. Only if that works,” I added, still cautious around her.

  She stared up at me and I saw her throat tighten. Then she nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” she said softly, her voice sounding strained. “Here?”

  “I can pick you up here, if you want?” I offered. I would have to remember to take the car tomorrow. “I’ll see you at five?” I made a reminder to ask Carter for the afternoon off.

  “Sure,” she said, and I was amazed by the expression of almost-disbelief on her face.

  I exchanged phone numbers with her and I watched her walk swiftly across the parking lot, my own mind swimming with the thoughts of what had just happened.

  When I got home that night, I was pleased to find Lucas already sitting by the television. Judy was still there – her coat was hanging by the door. I tiptoed through to join Lucas on the couch. He looked up at me with big eyes, a happy smile on his solemn face.

  “Daddy!” he greeted me. “You’re home early.”

  “Am I?” I frowned. It had been almost seven P.M. when I left the bike-shop, as usual. I had not hit bad traffic yet, so I guess he was right. It was seven-thirty. I reached for him and gave him a big hug.

  “Did you paint a bike?” Lucas asked me, his gray-green eyes frowning up at me.

  “No,” I grinned. “Why do you ask?”

  “You look happy.”

  I felt my heart twist. It could be so easy to forget how aware kids are of one’s mood. It’s also hard to remember – especially with kids as mature as Lucas – that they don’t always understand what’s affecting you that way, and how they usually blame themselves for your sorrow.

  “I am happy,” I murmured into his dark hair – the image of my own at eight years old – making him laugh. “And it’s especially nice to see you. How was school?” I asked.

  “Boring,” he said, making me laugh. He snuggled closer to me, turning to face the TV.

  “Why was it boring?” I asked, resting my hand on his tiny one, where it lay on the sofa.

  “Because they taught us writing in cursive,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I can already write in cursive.”

  I laughed. “I guess that does sound boring.”
<
br />   He grinned. “Yeah.”

  We were sitting side-by-side on the sofa when the nanny came in. I looked up, remembering that I had something important to discuss with her. I looked down at Lucas.

  “I need to talk to Judy. It won’t be long,” I added, when he frowned up at me.

  “Okay,” he said. “But you’ll miss the show about deserts. I like deserts.”

  I grinned. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

  I headed into the kitchen behind Judy, wondering absently what Lucas would think about photography. He had a keen eye and he loved nature like I did. It might be something that he would find interesting.

  “Judy?” I asked, as she started getting ready to leave again. “I have something to talk to you about.”

  “Yes, sir?” she frowned up at me, and I realized she was nervous about what I would say.

  “I think I found someone to take over from you,” I began.

  “Mr. Brand, I’m staying until next month! I don’t want to say goodbye to Lucas, just like that…” she trailed off, and I was touched to see how horrified she looked.

  “I know,” I said, lifting my hand in a placatory gesture. “I don’t want you to go, either… I want you to stay on and to help her to settle in. She’ll only be here part-time for the first month. I want you two to overlap. Lucas is very attached to you, too.”

  “He is,” she said softly.

  That, I realized, was a problem. Lucas was very attached to Judy. As mature and strong as he might be, when it came to people, he was very fearful of being lost or abandoned. Judy’s leaving was something I hadn’t even tried to raise with him, thinking it best to wait until I could introduce him to a replacement.

  “Thanks,” I said, nodding slowly. “If you’d be okay with it, I want to bring the new girl here tomorrow. At around five-thirty.”

  “Sure, Mr. Brand,” she nodded. “I’ll have just got Lucas home. She can spend some time with us and get to know our routine…” She was clearly already planning, and I felt reassured to see that.

  “Great,” I nodded slowly. “Well, then. I’ll see you tomorrow, at five-thirty.”

  “I will,” she nodded, and shrugged into her coat.

  When she had left, I went to join Lucas, who was half-asleep already. I sat down next to him and wrapped my arm around him.

  “We’ll watch the desert tomorrow since it’s bedtime, hey?” I whispered into his hair. “Then we can have lots of energy in the morning.”

  “You always say that,” Lucas complained sleepily, though he snuggled closer and rested his head on my arm.

  “I know,” I murmured, and bent to kiss his forehead.

  He giggled and pushed me as I tickled him and we collapsed in a happy heap.

  When he was upstairs in bed, I came and sat down on the couch, my own mind full of plans, all washed through with an overwhelming sense of relief.

  I had found a replacement nanny, and we were going to settle down to a new routine.

  My last thought as I lay back on the couch, feeling my eyelids start to droop closed, was of the beautiful girl with the curves and green eyes.

  6

  Tessa

  I lay in bed, unable to go to sleep, my thoughts focused – no matter my annoyance about it – on the guy I had met in the parking lot.

  “Damn it… Stop thinking about him and get some rest, Tessa.” I told myself firmly. It was ten P.M. and I wanted to try and get a good night’s sleep before the interview.

  My brain would not shut down, though – it insisted on showing me images of Mr. Blue-Eyes, the way he had looked in the parking lot when I saw him today. His leather-jacket fit his shoulders so well, enhancing his narrow hips and toned body. I could only imagine what he looked like under his shirt – the muscles all over him, those sinew-bound shoulders.

  I sighed. My body was turned on.

  I shut my eyes and let my hand drift down between my legs. I wished that it was his hand. He looked like the sort of man who knew what he was doing, I thought. My face flushed as I wondered what it was like to be with him.

  He would be gentle, I thought – that tough exterior didn’t hide the tenderness inside him. I could almost feel his lips on mine as his hand gently strayed between my legs.

  I drew in a breath as I touched my clit, thinking about him touching me. Maybe, I thought with a wicked smile, he would take the interview less seriously, and simply push me up against the wall, or bend me over one of those stunning bikes.

  I imagined him pulling my jeans down, bending me over so my butt was rubbing against his jeans. He would push against me, his erection firm and hard. Then, when he had me positioned just right, he would put himself inside me, filling me up.

  I imagined how he’d push into me, pulling all the way out, just to thrust in again. My hips would meet his thrusts, and he would shove against me, thrusting deeper and harder, and harder…

  I cried out as my fingers moved across my folds, stroking through my slippery wetness. I could feel how hard my clit was, how my body was heating up for him…

  I gasped, my finger flicking back and forth over my clit, making it feel like it was burning, aching throbbing. I came and cried out as I lay back.

  I was drifting in a sleepy haze shortly afterwards, my mind finally at peace and my body exhausted. I couldn’t remember feeling like this in ages, and certainly not after just touching myself before, either.

  I woke the next morning, cramped and cold, but I barely noticed that. I was wired and happy. I jumped out of bed and went to the shower, washing myself off and wishing that I had some perfume to put on. The scented shower-gel the hotel provided would just have to do it. I finished in the shower and dried off, shaking out my clothes. I’d hung my shirt up in the wardrobe to make sure the creases came out, and it looked pretty good. I combed my long hair and checked my reflection, deciding I didn’t look too bad, actually. Then I headed down to breakfast.

  Deciding how to spend the day was hard. I had almost nine hours between the interview and now, and I was going to be thinking about it all that time. I decided to work on my portfolio for a bit, and then take a long walk. I also needed to find things for lunch and supper, and maybe to buy an item or two of clothing. I would also have to call Laney, to explain that I might not be staying with her this weekend. Not if I needed to be here for work, and especially not if I could get an advance on my payment for the month.

  Taking a deep breath, I headed outside.

  The day passed surprisingly quickly, and when I took the bus to the industrial area, I was in an excited state. I jumped off the bus and headed swiftly to the bike-shop. When I got there, I lingered in the parking lot for a moment or two, taut with anticipation.

  I took a deep breath, and then another, and headed across and into the shop.

  7

  Matt

  Adam was working with me as I struggled to get the hubcaps off from a particularly vintage BMW. I gritted my teeth, wondering if the spanner was too big, or if the things really were just so rusty. I was having a hard job paying attention today as it was with the interview to plan for later.

  “Hey?” I called, noticing that Adam wasn’t paying me any attention either. “Do you have some dewatering fluid?” I asked. Maybe that would help get the wheel loosened-up.

  “Huh?” Adam blinked, his eyes slowly focusing again. I frowned.

  What was so interesting over there, by the reception area?

  I let my eyes drift to where his gaze had been fixed, and found myself staring in surprise.

  The girl from the parking lot was there, earlier than expected, her hair loose and fresh-washed, hanging around her shoulders. Her jeans were as tight as they had been, and she was wearing a patterned shirt, her green overcoat hanging over her one arm. I blinked, realizing I was looking exactly like Adam, probably with the same hungry expression on my face too.

  I heard her voice, low and urgent, explaining something to the secretary, Greer. I suddenly realized that I hadn’
t even told the girl my name and that there was no way she was going to be able to explain anything to Greer; not when I hadn’t informed her I was expecting someone.

  Shooting to my feet, I ran over.

  “Excuse me,” I said, getting Greer to look up at me. The girl just stared at me, that sweet mouth dropping into a little “o” of surprise again.

  “Um…” I fought to try and find my brain. It had decided to sneak out on me, replaced with a flood of longing for the girl in the green shirt. “Hi. I’m Matt,” I added belatedly, holding out my hand. I wondered if my brother could see me from the workshop, and I fought to ignore the sensation that he was probably in there, laughing at me.

  “Hi, Matt,” she said softly, in a voice that made my insides melt. “I’m Tessa. Shall we start the interview?”

  “Um, yeah,” I said. “Greer, I’m interviewing Tessa so she can be my new babysitter. I need some space. Is the break-room free?” I tried to focus, but my mind was working very slowly right now, and I knew why – all my blood was rushing to the rest of my body, its response quite overwhelming.

  “Of course,” Greer said, frowning at me.

  I realized I was probably behaving a bit weirdly, and sucked in a breath. I couldn’t really concentrate on anything – all my brain and energy seemed to be focused on this girl, and on the massive desire that I felt for her.

  “Um, Tessa?” I said. “If you’d like to join me in the break-room? We can shut the door and talk properly in there.” I realized how weird that must sound. “I mean, so there won’t be any loud noises from the bike-shop or stuff like that…” I trailed off, feeling really stupid.

  She was still looking up at me, and if she thought I was behaving weirdly, she did me the service of not noticing. She nodded. “Sure,” she said. “Let’s go, then.”

  I nodded and led the way to the break-room, shutting the door behind us. She looked up at me with big eyes.