Page 12 of The Engineer

He pointed to the bathroom door on the far side. “You can get cleaned up in there. Help yourself to anything you need.”

“Thanks.” Rosy spots glowed on her cheeks. The heat from the sun through the glass? He wasn’t so sure.

“Um.” She pulled at her collar with slender fingers.

The landing was spacious, just the two of them. It felt too small.

“Um, I’d like to apologize.” She adjusted her white-knuckled grip on her beaten backpack. “Earlier, when you tried to help me. It was the decent thing to do, and before all of this, I would have accepted your help.” She exhaled a ragged breath. “I haven’t felt safe since I started digging into what happened with my brother.” She chewed on her bottom lip, breaking eye contact with him, staring at her feet. When she looked back up, her eyes were bright.

Shit. Tears. Everything in him tensed. Flashes of his mother, her cheeks streaked with mascara, her lower lip split and bloody, the frustration of his inability to protect her burning through his childhood.

He blinked, pushing the memory back where it belonged, deep inside him where it could no longer fuck with his head. The here and now was so fucking different. Now he made it his business to protect anyone who needed it, and a woman like this was… his kryptonite.

Everything in him wanted to fix this, to make the men who pursued her pay.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets. He was a protector. Comfort wasn’t part of his job description or anything he was even good at.

She sniffed, collecting herself, alone, and shot him a watery smile. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long couple of weeks…”

A cloud passed over the sun, and the hall darkened, cocooning them in shadows. She shivered and wrapped her arms around her waist.

This time, he didn’t stop himself.

He stepped forward, his hands gentle on her upper arms. “It’s going to be okay. Raptor can only run for so long, and they’re running out of places to hide.”

The tension in her arms softened under his touch.

She lifted her head, and fresh steel glinted in her gaze.

Despite everything she’d been through, she was coming up fighting. There was so much more to this woman than met the eye, and the urge to know more was an intense punch to his gut.

“Right. I should get cleaned up. I look like a mechanic.” She showed him her oil-stained palms.

“Yes, of course—” He released her arms, the gesture leaving him unexpectedly bereft.

She stepped left to move past him, but he was already ducking left to move out of her way. She collided with his chest, palms flattening against him.

A gasp escaped her and her hastily zipped backpack slipped from her shoulder. Paper spilled to the ground in a rush. “Shit.” Jo dropped to her knees, pink flushing her cheeks.

Cheeks?

Since when had he started noticing the color of client’s cheeks? Because that’s what she was. A client.

He kneeled, close enough that her scent hit his nose. Cool water and mountain air. “Let me help.” He lifted several sheets.

“No. It’s fine. I can manage.” She scooped up the remainder and tucked them inside her backpack, held out her hand for the few he’d collected.

He handed her the paper, pushed back to standing. “You know you came here for our help.” His voice was inexplicably gruff. What was wrong with him? How did a woman he barely knew get under his skin with such ease? “So maybe you should let people help.”

She zipped her backpack closed with a harsh tug and the vulnerability he’d glimpsed earlier vanished. Clutching her bag, Jo stepped away from him quickly, as if to hide what he’d noticed. “Of course,” she said, her tone icy. “That’s what I’m paying for, after all.” She eased past him and the bathroom door closed with a soft click.

Griff stared at the door.

Paying for.

He blew out a breath, heart beating hard. There was no doubt in his mind. He knew his team would accept her as a client; Guardian Security didn’t turn people away. The rational part of his brain told him to steer clear, to ask Leo to assign Eli or Fox to her case even as an unexpected part of him wanted to throw her on a bed and see what it took to loosen that prissy expression from her face.

He headed down the stairs. He had enough going on with his fucked-up shoulder. The last thing he needed in his life was a woman like Jo Smith.

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