One to Protect (One to Hold 3)

Even though his voice is soothing, his entire body is on edge. His muscles seem larger, like he’s ready to fight. That’s when I find my strength. Shaking myself, I place my palms flat against my cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” Breathe, Melissa, breathe. “I… I had the most vivid dream. I thought someone was here… I-It scared me.”

My fingers curl, and he holds me close again. I bury my face in his chest, and the last of my terror slowly recedes.

Derek isn’t satisfied. He covers me with the blanket. “I’m going to look around, make sure you weren’t picking up on something in your sleep.”

He steps to the screen door and turns the little latch, locking it. My brow lines. “What do you mean? Did you see something?”

His face is stoic, but it softens with a smile when he glances down at me. “No, but I want to check the place out just in case,” touching my cheek lightly, “you’re very attuned to your surroundings.”

“For a while I had to be.”

He continues into the house, his mouth in a firm line. I stay on the couch, pulling the soft blanket tightly as I wait.

It’s later in the afternoon than I normally nap, but having Derek here causes my sleep patterns to shift. More specifically, I don’t sleep as much at night—even though he tries to let me. It’s hard to care about rest with him in my bed.

The sounds of him moving around inside drift to me on the sea breeze. He’s opening closet doors and looking for any signs of disturbance. It’s very comforting, even though I feel silly worrying him so much over a bad dream, which was probably induced by all the preoccupation with my ex.

Further down below us the waves crash against the shoreline. One of the things I love about my new home is how secluded

it is from the rest of civilization, but I confess, Derek’s current obsession with Sloan’s whereabouts has me spooked.

I can’t tell him what my nightmare was really about.

Joining me on the side porch, he pulls me close against his chest again. “Nothing seems out of place, but I don’t know what all you did while I was gone.”

“Just worked, came out here. Then I was tired and took a nap.”

I can see him thinking, and I almost jump out of my skin at the very loud and completely unexpected roar of a motorcycle engine. We’re both up, but I beat him to the door.

“Why is Patrick on a Harley?”

Derek’s lips tighten, and he catches me by the waist, pulling me back and flipping the lock on the door. “Stay here.”

Frowning, I watch as he stalks out to meet his partner.

Patrick’s royal blue Charger is in my driveway next to Derek’s black Audi, and I can only assume they got separated somehow. But how? I can’t hear what they’re saying. Patrick’s expression wavers back and forth between irritation and relief, and they talk for a few minutes longer. Then Patrick walks over and straddles the bike once more. He pulls the black helmet over his head and kicks the engine to life. Derek gives him a nod, and with a roar, his partner heads toward town.

Derek turns and heads back to the house. His brow is furrowed, and he studies the ground as he walks. One arm is crossed, and he’s holding his bicep, the other hand is a clenched fist.

Stepping back, I let him in the door, but he pauses to flip the metal lock again before taking my hand and leading me into the house.

“I feel like I’m the one out of the loop.” The blanket is still clutched over my shoulders as I follow him.

He doesn’t answer.

“How did you and Patrick get separated?”

We’re in the kitchen now, and I watch as he pulls down an unopened bottle of Scotch. “Patrick invited us over for dinner tonight.”

He cracks the seal and pours a small amount into a glass and shoots it back. A little wince creases his eyes, and he puts the glass in the sink.

“I’ve never seen you drink in the afternoon.”

I’m back in his arms, and his face is buried in my hair as he inhales deeply. A warm shiver travels up my arms despite my concern.

“I’ve never been so worried about you.” His voice is low against my neck. “But you’re okay now. And I’m here.”