Protect Me Not ((Un)Professionally Yours 2)

“You kissed me to comfort me?” she asked, sounding rightfully incredulous. And who could blame her? Even Ty could hear how damned ridiculous the words sounded once they were out in the open.

“I guess, I did.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Vicki, whether you believe me or not won’t alter the facts.”

“You’re really going to stand there and feed me all of this horse shit and expect me to just eat it up?”

“I should go. You need rest.” He had to get out of there before he upset her even further. She glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest, clearly angry about the blatant lies he’d just fed her.

“Get some sleep, okay?” Ty muttered, hating how much of a dick he was being right now. “We can talk again tomorrow.”

Only not about that kiss. Ever again.

The following morning, Hugh came into Vicki’s room and handed his phone to her with a sympathetic grimace. He mouthed good luck, before hastily retreating from the room.

Vicki stared at her oldest brother’s grim face on the screen and offered him a tentative smile.

“Hi, Miles.”

“Hey, Swish. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been run over by a truck.”

He winced, his eyes moving as he took stock of her appearance.

“You do look like shit.”

“Thaaanks, I can always count on you to make me feel better. You didn’t tell Mum about this, did you?”

“No. She’s got a lot going on with the wedding and everything. If I told her, she’d probably want to fly back immediately.” He sighed, before admitting, “Honestly, I nearly flew back myself. But Hugh convinced me not to. What the fuck, Vicki? Are you trying to give me a heart attack before I even turn thirty-five?”

“I’m sorry, Miles. I want you to know, this was entirely my fault.”

“Of that, I have little doubt,” he said with a dry laugh. She glared at him, and his expression sobered. Vicki quickly explained the circumstances surrounding the incident.

“It was careless…and not something I’m ever likely to do again. And it would have been so much worse if not for Ty. And for that, I thank you.”

“Are you trying to flatter me into forgiving you for terrifying me, Swish?”

“Is it working?” she asked hopefully, and he chuckled.

“Vicki, the only one at fault here, is the bastard who hurt you. I would have preferred it if maybe you hadn’t made it as easy for him to do so, but it’s not your fault. Got it?”

She gave him a misty smile, gratified by that response.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Vicki. I swear, I aged about ten years yesterday.”

“I’m so sorry.” She paused before asking. “Does this mean I can kiss that lighter security detail goodbye?”

He shook his head. “No. Last year, when I asked Brand to beef up your security, I was in a bad place. I was worried about my own health, worried about what would happen to you if I wasn’t around. And I admit, I overreacted. I know I should have cancelled the extra security months ago, but I figured—with the wedding coming up and you having to travel—it would be good to keep Chambers on a while longer.”

Vicki smiled. Her brother could be an overprotective autocrat at times, but she understood that his bossiness came from a place of love and concern.

“I would like to improve security at your store though,” he stated, and then had the grace to look shamefaced when she gave him a flinty stare. He coughed and added, “If you’d allow it. For your staff and your own safekeeping.”

She recalled his words a few weeks ago, about how he’d wanted to give her the world when she was a kid. And understood how frustrating it must be for him not to be allowed to share the wealth he had accumulated the way he would like to.

It was a generous proposition, and it would be petty and impractical of her not to accept it. Especially when it was offered with so much love.

“I’d like that. Thank you.”

The huge relieved smile he gave her told her exactly how much her acceptance meant to him.

Charity wanted to speak with her after that. The woman had Stormy tucked up under her arm. Comically, the homely little dog was dressed in a frothy pink dress, and Miles was less than pleased about it.

While Charity and Vicki squealed about how adorable Stormy looked, Miles grumbled about her being an active, sporty dog, who didn’t need to be dressed up like a doll.

In the end, he unceremoniously took Stormy from Charity. “My dog and I are going for a run. I swear to God, I’m getting you a chihuahua or a yorkie, sweetheart. Then you can play dress-up all you like. Take care, Vicki.”

With that, he slammed out of the kitchen, leaving Charity and Vicki in stitches.

The two women talked a while longer. Vicki was struck by the thought that it was the first time she was truly having a conversation with the woman without Miles or her mother around. Charity was surprisingly easy to talk to. Warm, funny, entertaining, and clearly head over heels in love with Miles—evidenced by the number of times she found reason to bring his name into the conversation.