Page 9 of Protected

Dot.Why is she calling me? It doesn’t sound like anything is wrong, but I can’t imagine why else she’d be reaching out.

“Hi. Everything okay?”

“Well, umm, it looks like maybe one of my cameras went out and I was wondering if you could come check it. When you get a chance, I mean. There’s no rush.”

I clear my throat, standing naked in the bathroom, wondering how quickly I should offer to go check on her. If I go right now, I look like I don’t have anything else going on. If I wait too long, she’ll think I don’t give a fuck.

“Well… I do have a pretty packed schedule.” It’s a fucking lie. I have nothing going on this afternoon. “The only time I have available is right now, since I’m just about done with another job and I’m in your area, anyway.” Another lie. I can’t help but wonder if this is making me sound as pathetic as I feel.

“Yeah, that works! I’ll be here.” Her tone is light and airy before the line disconnects.

I’m not sure what the fuck just happened, and I have no idea how the hell I’m going to look her in the eye.

Chapter Five

Dot

I’m not sure Sky’s advice is good advice, but since deciding to let my clit make all my decisions for me, that phone call to Hank just made sense. Sure, he’s out of my league, but what harm could a little flirting do?

He’s either going to reject me when he gets here or he’s not. I figure my ego can’t be bruised any worse than it already has been. Plus, there’s a slight chance he might actually be into me.

Slight… but there’s a chance.

Besides that, I should’ve stopped thinking about him by now. I don’t usually obsess about people. Maybe once he gets here, cooler heads will prevail, and I won’t feel the need to embarrass myself. This is the story I tell myself, though I already know it’s a lie. The reality is, I had a stressful day, I didn’t get the job at the diner, and the job at the reporter desk I was hoping for in Seattle was swiped up by the girl who worked beneath me.

I think I need a hot guy to bend me over and call me his good girl, and I’m pretty sure I couldn’t care less about being embarrassed.

What is it about a big, strong, inked up man that just gets me going like this?

The doorbell rings and the alarm alerts me that someone is at the front door. I disconnected a wire to the back room soit would look like a camera was off, but I’m going to have to play dumb as hell to pass that off as something I couldn’t have reconnected myself.

“Dot.” Hank’s tone is low, and he’s wearing half a smile with tight jeans and a black t-shirt. His eyes dart down to the ground and up again as though maybe he’s nervous, or he’s annoyed that he’s here.

God, it’s lunchtime. I bet he was just home with his feet up, getting a blowjob from the woman he’s living with and all he wants to do is get back home and be left the hell alone.

Why did I do this?

“Hi.” I open the door wider and invite him inside, despite the fact that I probably shouldn’t have invited him at all. “I’ve got a camera in the backroom that won’t work. Do you think you can take a look for me?”

He nods and stares at me a beat too long. “Yeah, I can take a look. You thinking the wire came loose or…”

“Oh,” I puff my cheeks and blow out the air, “maybe. I’m not sure. I haven’t even gone in the room.”

Wow!Thisis who I’ve become?

The giant studies me. Online, I read that he was in heavy combat. I can’t imagine what that’s like, or how strong you’d have to be mentally and physically to endure that kind of life.

I want to hold him, hug him, let him know he’s safe now. Then again, that makes no fucking sense. He most likely has loads of women tending to his every need already.

“Which room are we heading into?”

“Oh, sorry. The living room, right corner.”

He walks through the house with his big dirty boots, leaving marks in his wake. This should be the red flag I was looking for. Do I really want to be dusting up mud and dirt for the rest of my life?

The rest of my life.That escalated quickly. A second ago, I was hoping for a one-night stand. Now he’s my future husband.

I laugh under my breath and shake my head at the ridiculousness of myself. Maybe I should be committed. Is there some kind of rehab for people who want to solve all their problems with big, sexy men?

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