Page 3 of Big Gruff Owner

“What do you want to be?”

“A pediatric nurse,” she replies automatically before she flushes and adds, “If I can make it through the classes. I was never very good in school.” I don’t like the way she undermines her own goals.

“You will be one if that’s what you want.” I scan my eyes over her. “Don’t doubt yourself. Doubt is the first step in failure.” They are words that my first sergeant told me and I’ve never forgotten, but I’ve never repeated them to anyone before her.

She glances away shyly. “Thank you and thank you for carrying in my stuff.”

“Got everything you need?” I ask, my voice gruff.

She nods, offering me another one of those small smiles. “Yeah, I think so.”

We stand there for a long moment, staring at each other, long enough that I start to feel a little out of place. I’ve never been one for small talk, and I’m sure that she’s ready for me to finally leave so she can get to the excitement of living on her own. I don’t want to hover, but something about leaving her here alone doesn’t sit right with me. She looks so damn young, so out of place herself. Something about her makes me feel…protective. No, that’s not quite right.Possessive. I don’t want to let her out of my sight. My brain and my body are conspiring against me and have staked some claim to this girl who is a complete stranger to me.

That won’t fucking do. Not at all.

“Well,” I say, shifting awkwardly, “if you need anything, just let me know. I’m right next door.”

She nods again. “I appreciate that.”

Her eyes have taken on a dark edge, something akin to panic. Or maybe I’m imagining that as an excuse to keep myself around her.She’s not my business.I keep reminding myself of that as I turn to leave. She’s just a tenant, and I’m just her landlord. That’s all this is.

That’s all it can be.

But even as I tell myself that, I know it’s a lie.

Chapter Two

Sadie

I flip over onto my side, trying to find a comfortable spot, but it’s no use. My mind is too busy running through every tiny sound the house makes. Every creak of the old duplex, every tremble of the pipes in the wall, every blow of wind against the glass pane makes me jump.

Is he here? Did he find me?

I’m being ridiculous and I know it. I’m a state away, hours from home and I’d been so careful. I’d gotten rid of every evidence of my move. I’d kept it all under wraps until the day finally came when I grabbed whatever I could carry in my arms and got the heck out of dodge.

Still, something about being in this place all alone makes me paranoid and suspicious. It hadn’t been that bad during the day. It never is. In the two days that I’ve lived here, I’ve never had a hard time dealing with being alone during the day. During the sunlight hours, I can keep busy. I work, I cook, and I sit on my porch pretending to read and trying to steal a glimpse of…someone. I pull my thoughts away from the no-no zone and back to the present quickly.

The problem is not the day. The problem is that the moment night falls, the fears creep in and that’s even though I sleep with several lights on to chase away the shadows.

It’s crazy how different things are here compared to home. Back in Gastonia, it was loud, chaotic, and not always in a good way. My father made sure of that. I never really felt safe there either, but at least I knew what to expect. Here, it’s just me and my thoughts, and honestly, they’re not all that comforting either. With my father or away from him, his shadow still crowds me.

So far, the most peace I’ve felt is withhim. That certain someone I try not to think about and always seem to fail to keep from my mind.

Nathan Matthews. My neighbor. My landlord. My hero.

If he hadn’t rented this place to me, I’d have still been scrambling trying to find a place to live, trying to find a way out of the hell that was my old life. I’d contacted nearly thirteen other places and I was running out of money to sink into application fees just to be denied due to a lack of credit and rental history. So yeah, Nathan Matthews was the white knight I didn’t know I needed.

With his short jet-black hair that must have been recently cut and his deep, chocolate-brown eyes, he never failed to steal my breath away. But, it wasn’t just the fact that the man was gorgeous beyond belief in that rugged, brooding sort of way. It was also the way he was a total gentleman, charming and attentive, helping me bring my meager sampling of possessions inside and offering to bring me more furniture when he found out I really didn’t have anything. Even in the brief times we’d see each other, he always stopped long enough to ask me if I needed anything. And something about the intensity with which he watched me answer always made me feel like he actuallymeantit. That if I asked him for something, he’d actually want to make it happen for me.

Of course, I never did ask him for anything. How do you ask someone to just sit with you? How do you ask someone to fill the silence crowding around you? At least, how do you ask that without being looked at as the most awkward weirdo on the planet?

Needless to say, I didn’t have the best experience with kind men and yet in Nathan’s presence, under his watchful gaze, I felt secure for the first time in my life. I roll onto my back and close my eyes, trying to push my thoughts back toward sleep, but all I can think about is Nathan.

I know he’s older, probably in his late thirties or early forties, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting him with a fierceness that surprises me. I’ve never really wanted anyone before. Sure I’d had meaningless crushes, but the desire I felt for Nathan tugged at my heart and set fire to the pit of my stomach.

Sighing, I tuck an arm under my head. I wonder if he thinks about me at all. Probably not. He’s got a whole life here, and I’m just some kid he rented a place to because I sounded desperate.

A loud pop makes me jump, successfully ripping me from my thoughts. Another pop and then suddenly, the room goes pitch black, the lights I left on flicking out of existence. I scream without thinking and bolt upright my heart hammering in my chest. My hands shoot out, fumbling for my phone and instead, my forearm slaps against the nightstand. I mumble an oath clutching my now throbbing arm to my chest.

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