Page 23 of Protector

“Sounds like him.” She frowns. “How far back?”

“Last year.”

Shaking her head, she says, “So this guy has been trying to get my attention for a while. Maybe that’s why he’s pissed.”

I run a hand over my jaw, my beard thicker than normal. “Looks like.”

With a loud sigh, she looks thoughtful as she bites at her nail. “With so much activity on my accounts, I can’t read everything. Now, I have Erika, who does some of that for me. Plus, I sort of forgot about that account, which is why I ended up archiving it.”

“Does Erika know what’s going on?”

She nods and then immediately shakes her head. “Can we…wait to talk about this after I’ve had coffee and my workout? I always feel a little more centered when I get my heart racing.” She grins. “Know what I mean?”

That can mean lots of things, but I simply say, “Yep.” I glance behind me. “Let me get my shirt and some keys.”

“Nope… Just the shirt.” She points to my pants. “And change out of those jeans. We’re running.”

“I thought we were going to the gym.”

“Yeah.” She lifts her brows with a half-grin. “I like to run to the gym, then workout when I get there.”

Well, shit. “Okay. Meet you at the house in ten.”

When I close the door behind her, I grab my phone and check the time. “Fucking seven AM. This girl’s serious.” I once again skip shaving, change into sweats, throw on a T-shirt and am out the door.

“There are some awesome trails behind the property,” she says when we meet up. “Then it will be streets but not for too long.”

“How many miles we talking?”

She shrugs. “The way I go? Like four, maybe. Think you can handle it, old man?” Without looking back at me, she takes off at a speed walk to exit the property.

I catch up to her and walk right beside her. “For the record, I’d rather be Uncle Todd than ‘old man.’”

“As long as I’m not ‘young lady,’ you got a deal.”

“First of all, I apologized and haven’t said it since. Second, I hate to break this to you, but everything I’ve seen from you so far indicates you are, in fact, a young lady.”

Once we hit a dirt trail, Shay starts at a slow jog. “I disagree. Or at least I didn’t use to be one. I was kind of a little bitch when my dad and Dylan first left.”

“Maybe you’ve matured.”

Shay picks up her pace, probably too soon for this length run, but I catch up with her no problem. She doesn’t respond to my comment, and we run side by side for about twenty minutes without talking.

It’s already warm on this August morning, but she hasn’t broken a sweat yet. I do, however, find her extremely beautiful without a lick of makeup on her face. I glance at her a few times, wondering why I didn’t notice sooner that she wasn’t wearing any.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring.” She sounds a bit breathless at this point.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I don’t mind. I mean, Iamused to it.” She laughs.

“Then why did you point it out?”

We come to a fairly steep hill, and Shay slows down as we climb. “Because…something about the look on your face. You were thinking something, and I want to know what it was.”

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