Unexpected (The Protectors 10)

He hadn’t spoken to me since.

“Nash, we’re guests here,” I said as I took in the sprawling fields around us. We’d left the city behind about twenty minutes earlier and were driving into an area that was wide open and appeared to be a mix of farms and orchards. “You’re going to have to buck protocol a bit. We’re not putting Gage and his wife out.”

Nash let out a snort.

“What?” I asked as I looked at him.

He looked at me like he’d never seen me before. Then he shook his head and said, “Nothing.”

Yeah, we were going to be lucky if we didn’t kill one another within twenty-four hours.

The car’s GPS instructed Nash to turn right. We bumped and rattled over a dirt road lined with mature trees for almost a mile before we reached a clearing. Two houses sat side by side at the end of the road. One was an old white farmhouse with green shutters. The second was a smaller, light blue Cape Cod style house with white shutters and a small porch. There were several different-sized buildings to the side of and behind the houses, along with long stretches of white wood pasture fencing.

The second the car pulled into the circular part of the driveway, three dogs came tearing around the side of the house. Two were huge mastiffs and the third was a tiny, fluffy white dog that I guessed would easily fit in the palm of my hand. All three dogs were barking like crazy, but despite Nash’s warning to wait, I got out of the car right away. I was instantly mobbed by the excited animals.

With slobber-filled kisses.

I chuckled as the pocket-sized dog weaved between the legs of the two huge dogs to reach me. I didn’t hesitate to scoop the little dog up and cuddle her to my chest. She rewarded me with tiny little licks on my chin.

“Happy, Zeus, Medusa,” I heard a voice call and looked up to see Gage striding around the house from the same direction the dogs had come from. He had several pieces of lumber in his hands. I felt my mouth go dry at the sight of his sweat-covered muscles flexing. He was wearing a shirt, but he might as well have been naked from the waist up because the snug, slightly damp material did nothing to hide the cut of his gorgeous chest. It wasn’t until he set the wood down that I noticed what it was for. My mouth dropped open at the sight of the wheelchair ramp he was building for the front door.

For my son.

Tears stung my eyes, but I managed to hold them back. I wanted to get down on my knees and thank whatever deity had been looking out for Reese long enough to bring guys like Gage and Ronan into his life.

“You made it,” Gage said as he neared us. At some point, Nash had come around the front of the car and while he’d lowered his hand to settle on the head of one of the dogs sitting at his feet, his eyes were on the move as he explored our surroundings.

Before I could respond to Gage, Nash said, “I need to check the grounds and the houses.”

“Good to see you again too, Agent Nash,” Gage drawled. The men shared some kind of look between them, but I wasn’t sure how to interpret it. It wasn’t exactly friendly, but it wasn’t unfriendly, either.

Before Nash could respond to anything, a little girl’s shout filled the air. “Daddy?”

“Up front, honey,” Gage called. Seconds later, a little girl came flying around the corner, her arms wrapped around a bundle of fur. She was all arms and legs, and I guessed her to be around seven or eight. She had dark brown hair that was pulled into a messy ponytail. Bright green eyes identical to her father’s settled on us as she reached Gage’s side.

“She did it again,” she declared.

It was only when I got a closer look that I realized it wasn’t a bundle of fur in her arms, but a bundle of feathers.

“Just leave her out,” Gage said. He took the chicken from his daughter and said to it, “Houdini, you wander onto Mrs. Spindle’s property one more time and you’re liable to end up as next Sunday’s dinner.” The little girl laughed and took the chicken back, then put her on the ground. I was worried the dogs might go after the bird, but the mastiff closer to me merely sniffed the hen when she began pecking the dirt around the massive dog’s paws.

Gage looked at us again and smiled. “So, you made it,” he repeated. “Welcome to Chez Fortier,” he said with a laugh. “This,” – he put his big hand on the little girl’s head – “is Charlie.” The little girl smiled wide.