Zeke is a different story. The nurses all clearly want to jump his bones. I shouldn’t care—it’s not like he’s my boyfriend—but every time he ignores their advances in favor of watching me like a hawk, I get a secret thrill. Younger than Nick by a good fifteen years, he’s got an unruliness in his golden-brown eyes. Energy ripples in his tattooed muscles every time he moves.
My father asked these men to protect me, but I never expected them to take it this far. With the dark laughter replaying on a loop in my head and memories becoming clearer and clearer from before the fire, though, I’m grateful for their presence. They don’t leave me alone for a second, only turning their backs when I’m bathed by the nurses. I’ve started to notice a slight tension building between Nick and Zeke, too. Dark looks being exchanged when they trade shifts at my bedside. As if one is warning the other. About what?
When it comes time to leave the hospital, I panic. That panic only gets worse when I move in across town with my aunt. Sleep is impossible. I need my protectors. I need Nick and Zeke or the nightmares and hazy memories will suck me down. Fear keeps me awake, along with the sound of crackling flames and my father’s last words. I’m a zombie during the day, because I can’t sleep at night. Forming sentences is impossible, let alone returning to my courses at the fashion institute.
Where did they go? Maybe I should have spoken to them more.
I need them.
Five days after leaving the hospital, I’m tossing and turning in the middle of the night. The walls are closing in on me, the scent of smoke filling my nose. Need to get outside. Need to breathe clean air.
I throw off my covers, open the window and climb out into the night.
* * *
Nick
My fist pounds the steering wheel at the sight of Penny climbing out the window, oxygen seeming to fill my lungs for the first time since she left the hospital. She’s beautiful beyond words, with her white-blonde hair and big, green eyes, moving with grace and innocence, especially in the simple nightshirt she wears. I didn’t want the aunt to take her—she belongs with me—but I had no choice. People tend to frown on a forty-year-old confirmed bachelor moving an eighteen-year-old girl into his house.
Hell, they should frown on it. I shouldn’t be dreaming of my hands slowly parting her knees and kissing her pretty pink underwear top to bottom while she squirms. She’s been through a trauma, for the love of God. Lost her father. I have no right wanting to take a dead man’s place as Penny’s provider…and more.
A lot more.
I married young and divorced just as fast. My ex-wife didn’t want to be dominated…and hell, I was only half interested in dominating her. Since then, my only relationship has been with my job. Why bother dating when no woman has ever roused me enough to set my blood on fire? No female has managed it until Penny. She’s stirred this almost…paternal instinct. It’s consuming me now. Making me realize why I’ve remained unmoved by other women. I was waiting for her.
My whole life has been about fighting fires, but the one inside me for Penny spreads out of control. And it rages hotter knowing another man is dreaming of taking the same privileges as me.
It’s not easy to tear my eyes off Penny where she sits on the lawn in her white nightshirt, legs drawn up to her chest. But I do—and I lock eyes with the man sitting in the truck in front of mine. Zeke. Every night since she left the hospital, we find ourselves in this position. Our trucks damn near bumper to bumper, our attention zeroed in on the guest bedroom on the east side of the house.
Christ, we’re fucking vultures. There’s no help for it, though. Penny’s father was protective for a reason. She’s a little slip of a thing with a body ripe for cock. But her looks aren’t the only reason Zeke and I spend every waking moment between shifts stationed outside her house. No, it’s a hell of a lot more than that. There’s something about Penny that makes me want to lie down in front of a train to protect her. Take a bullet. Run straight into a fire.
I still remember her whimpering in the darkness, reaching out for help. Just thinking about it scares me. Makes me want to rage at fate for trying to hurt someone so sweet and beautiful. For trying to take something that’s mine.
I’m distracted from my thoughts when Zeke climbs out of his truck, slamming the door closed behind him. He tilts his head at me, that crazy cowboy look in his eye. As if to say, you can’t stop me, motherfucker. I’m taking her.