Page 18 of Savage Guardian

But what did that matter? He wasn’t hired to be her boyfriend; he was hired to be her bodyguard…no matter how desperately he’d yearned for something more.

Two days had passed since he met Carrie. Two days of seeing her, talking to her, protecting her…and getting more and more disillusioned by her.

It was frustrating as fuck. He’d been expecting one thing, and the universe had given him something else. Like begging daddy for a trip to Ibiza for Christmas, and him gifting you a framed print out of a picture of a painting of a state park beach instead.

He couldn’t deny the truth any longer, despite what his dick wanted and his hopes had begged. She was not who he thought she would be. And he couldn’t get the fuck over it.

Nearly two years listening to her music, memorizing the heart-wrenching or joyous words, feeling the heartbeat of the melodies perfectly pulsing with the sensual harmonies, and when he looked at Carrie, spoke with Carrie, listened to Carrie chattering inanely, he just felt discontent. Like he’d wasted all that time, energy, and emotion on someone who just wasn’t who they made themselves out to be.

Yes, Carrie was beautiful, but after only having been around her for two days, he knew she was about as deep as a teaspoon.

Pulling his ride up to Danny’s, he lifted his head and took a deep breath, inhaling the mouth-watering scent of freshly baked pie. Out of all the mom and pop eateries in Vegas, Danny’s was the only one the Raiders frequented. He and his brothers were loyal to Danny and Nan, the owners, who’d opened the small diner over twenty years ago. Once Odin had gotten a taste of Danny’s cherry pie, the man had basically moved in, visiting the diner at least three or four times a week—and his brothers were no different. Danny and Nan didn’t give a fuck if tattooed bikers came in and sat at their tables. They welcomed everyone.

Pulling the door open, Hawk smiled at the sound of the bell tinkling over the door. A familiar, comforting sound that never failed to warm his insides. Pinning his gaze to the pie display, he strode toward it, focused on getting what he was hungry for: the biggest slice of warm apple pie Nan could fit on a plate.

The scent of heather and vanilla wafting in on a draft of air stopped him in his tracks. He jerked his head up, spinning to look for the source of that delicious, seductive scent. A scent he’d only smelled on one person.

There, in the corner, sitting alone, with a plate of mostly eaten pie and a paperback book, was Fae.

In the last two days, he hadn’t seen a single sign of her. When he was with Carrie, Fae was off doing whatever she needed to do for Carrie. At least he assumed that’s what Fae was doing. Carrie nor Jimmy, Carrie’s manager, ever spoke about the other woman. Almost like they were trying to forget about her altogether.

Which was impossible. He’d already read through—cover to cover—the file AFK had compiled on the woman. And, surprisingly, it was compelling reading. Apparently, there was more to Fae McCabe than he first thought, much to his annoyance. He didn’t like being surprised, especially by people who should be easy to read. At first glance, Fae was simple, plain, shy, and easily overwhelmed. The stutter he’d first noticed was a condition that only emerged when she was anxious. He smirked when he remembered how she’d stuttered when she’d come face to face with him, making it obvious that his presence made her nervous.

Yeah, but was it because she was attracted to you or because you scared the shit out of her?

He’d shaken off that thought and kept reading. She’d graduated high school with average grades. Her highest grades were in band and choir, which wasn’t a surprise seeing who her parents and step-sister were. Her father was a music teacher at the local community college, and her mother, before she’d died, was a professional cellist. And everyone knew who the step-sister was. So, it wasn’t that far-fetched to assume that Fae had some musical talent as well.

On top of speaking flawless Gaelic.

Once he was done reading and digesting the information in her file, he’d discovered that it had only whetted his appetite. Much to his frustration, he wanted to know more about Fae McCabe, Carrie’s step-sister, even though Carrie was his client and the object of his nearly two-year long obsession.

Even though he’d also discovered that his obsession with Aoibheal was waning. Now that he’d met her, the intensity of the attraction that had first drawn him to her music was quickly diminishing.

What was that saying…never meet your heroes? Well, he was thinking he never should have met his obsession.

No. This is what you wanted. She is what you wanted. You can’t just drop it now.

Right. He was just feeling the pressure of keeping things professional, of keeping her safe. His usual playful, bad boy act had to take a back seat to the serious, bad ass protector. Meaning his libido and personal desires were taking a back seat.

Which was good, because Odin would kick his fucking ass if he fucked up this job.

He didn’t even stop to think before he made his way over to her, stopping at the end of the booth, his gaze pinned to her down-turned face. She hadn’t noticed him yet, as engrossed in her book as she was, but that gave him time to really look at her.

When he’d first met her in the hotel suite, his focus had been split between the apprehension of meeting Aoibheal, physical arousal, and the wariness and tension that came with being there in an official capacity. Once Fae had entered the mix, everything—his feelings, his thoughts, his cock—overwhelmed him. He hadn’t had the mental clarity nor desire to take the time and reallyseeFae.

Her skin was flawless and pale, with a healthy smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. Like porcelain kissed with fairy dust. Her strawberry blonde hair was a burnished red-gold, reflecting the last embers of fire from the setting sun through the diner window. As he watched, she reached up and hooked loose strands of it behind her ear, which made it all the easier for him to stare.

Her nose was straight and narrow, ending on a pixie bud. On most women, it would look child-like. On her, though, it only added to the image of a fabled forest creature, sent to entice, to lure in and get them completely lost. Her eyebrows and lashes were a darker red-gold than her hair, and her long, up-turned lashes wreathed eyes that reminded him of the finest Scottish whisky, burnished golds and browns. Warm and honeyed.

It was her lips that made him stare the hardest. The bottom lip larger than the top and both lips were drawn into a lush, pink bow…. He wanted to sample them, tasting their sweetness, biting their plumpness. Devouring her until she whimpered against his mouth, begging him to deepen their kiss until every breath in his body had been poured into hers.

Clearing the thickness in his throat, he slapped a smile on his face when her head jerked up, her eyes widening at the sight of him standing so close.

“Hawk?” she choked, clearly surprised to see him there. “W-what are y-you doing h-here?” Ah…therewas that nervous stutter.

He smirked, letting his eyes drop to the book in her hand.

“I came for a slice of pie, but I saw you over here reading, got curious about what was so interesting that you didn’t even finish your pie. Nan’s pies are to die for, so it has to be a pretty damn good book to forget you still have some on your plate.”

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