Page 40 of Shield and Savior

God, what the hell is wrong with me…

Lance closes his eyes and scrubs his mouth with the hand not holding my face. Is he laughing? He puffs out his cheeks and blows out all the air. “Yes. I would protect Drew as fiercely.”

“So, nothing changes?” I scoot forward in the chair and lift myself to my feet, which are so much happier with the squishy slippers. I’m much shorter now without the torture heels, and I crane my head to watch my protector/date.

Lance puts both hands on my cheeks. “Izzy, everything changes.”

I swear to God, I’m glowing. My teeth drag against my lower lip. “I think we should find a place where my date can enjoy dessert, and I can enjoy watching him eat it.” Oh god. “Um, that sounded dirty,”

“Sounded accurate.” Lance picks up the plastic bag and hands it to me while holding the straps of my demon shoes by his finger. He leads me toward the elevator. “Are you upset you don’t get dessert?” His other arm wraps around my waist.

“A little,” I admit. It’s stupid, I know it’s stupid, but come on, it was a wedding, and I should’ve at least gotten a cookie or something.

“Do you know the benefit of having a date who’s also a bodyguard?” He motions to the bag. “I notice everything. Including things like the gift shop that sells slippers, and the café in the lobby has cake.”

I peek inside the bag I thought was empty, and there’s a slice of chocolate cake in a plastic container. I squeak, “Best wedding ever.”

He pushes the elevator button. “I’m sure there will be better ones.”

The groom sprints through the lobby and pauses when he sees us. He’s holding two long rectangular white boxes. In blue frosting, “Today You Are A Man” is piped in perfect cursive on the cake in the top box. He thrusts it into Lance’s hands, revealing the second cake, which reads, “Happy 95thbirthday, MeMa.”

I stare at the pink and yellow roses then back up at the panting groom. “You stole these cakes from a bar mitzvah and what’s probably MeMa’s last birthday. You see how this is worse, right?” I say.

He sighs in defeat. “Uh-huh.”

The elevator door opens, and Lance hands back the box. “You should’ve checked the café.” Lance points to the other side of the lobby.

As the doors shut, the groom whines, “Son of a bitch.”

ChapterTwenty

Lance

I’ve walked the red carpet, I’ve seen stunning women, but none of them made me feel what Izzy does. I can’t fight it anymore. It’s too fucking much. I already thought she was sexy as hell in messy buns and leggings, but from the instant I saw her in that dress, I knew I wasn’t going to last the night.

I’ve done a pretty good job of ignoring my attraction to her. Trying to forget the nights when she’s gone to bed, turning on music for exactly ten minutes to cover up the sound of her vibrator. I’ve pushed away the feral desire to throw open the door and take her myself. To test my skills against her battery-operated boyfriend. And up until now, I thought I could do it.

But no.

She broke me in the car when she started to sob.

I know what to do when a woman cries. Honey Badger is sort of a mess and will cry whenever she watches videos about a color-blind person seeing color for the first time. I’ve only seen Alana cry a few times, and it hasn’t been in years. But Izzy. Crying over plates. Fuck me. I was shattered.

I never intended to be someone who hurt her. I wanted to make her smile. But when she did the math about the meals, how many plates we would use for dinner and how many leftover plates there would be when I left—double fuck me. The idea of leaving her, and Drew, ended me.

Part of me wanted to run away. Call Alana and demand she put me back on Honey Badger’s tour.

But the thought died almost as quickly as it was born.

I don’t want to leave.

When that fuckbag Facci hung over Izzy, I saw blood. I don’t go all growly and alpha mode often. I mean I know it’s a thing some of the other guys do, but it was never my thing. I didn’t get it. Until that moment.

But holy shit, when she snapped at the bride and demanded the debts be paid because of cake, I died.

A billion feelings welled up at once. I like her. I like her a lot. She’s funny and smart, but she’s been hurt. And now she’s scared. And all I want to do is protect her from pain.

I want her to feel good. Loved. Safe.