Page 2 of Protected By the Surly Carpenter

“Thanks.”

I start to walk toward the empty table while she hurries inside. Then I’m suddenly blocked by Lawney’s ferret-like face. “Don’t interfere, Clark. This is none of your goddamn business.”

My spine stretches until I’m at my full height, keenly aware that close to two dozen people are watching us. “How exactly is it your business?”

He smirks, leaning back casually. “Information about that little lady is worth quite a bit. I won’t be sharing it with the likes of you.”

Whatever the hell he’s talking about, it’s not good. Lawney is the type of guy to draw things out, make every conversation as long as possible. I think the more he talks, the more importanthe feels. Looking around, I realize I have the advantage here, since he’s trying to impress people and I genuinely don’t give a damn what anyone thinks of me beyond my professional reputation.

“So, you want to harass the server some more?” I ask loudly. Turning to the group of people to my left, they’re staring with wide eyes. “What do you think? Think Lawney should leave my girlfriend alone so she can do her job and serve you nice people?”

There’s a round of loud muttering, with “Yeah, leave her alone” and “We just want our beer, man” being tossed about.

Lawney looks around uncomfortably. “You don’t realize–”

“Realize what? That you’re harassing my girlfriend?” I turn to the people on the right and arrange my face into something approaching a casual smile. “Friends, I ask you. Do I look like the type of person who would put up with bullshit from this guy?”

They laugh loudly as they size up the two of us. I’m six foot four and come from a long line of woodsmen and carpenters built like tanks. Lawney is a head shorter than I am, and compared to me, he looks like a twig that might snap in a slight breeze.

He cringes, looking back toward his table for support. Two other guys equally as scrawny as him are shaking their heads, as if they’d rather not admit to knowing him right now. Reaching for his wallet, he drops a twenty on the table, then takes off through the restaurant.

I sit down, angling my chair so I can watch the swing door between the patio and the restaurant as well as the parking lot in front of the main door. When Elena returns a few minutes later with a huge serving tray, her eyes sparkle when she sees me.

Once she’s served pizza and breadsticks to a couple at a nearby table, she swings by mine. “I really appreciate whateveryou did to make him go away.” Her voice is soft and light, nearly lost in the chatter of everyone around, but her words are the only thing I can focus on. “He’s been by a few times, but that was the first time he’s ever tried to corner me.”

“When is your shift over?”

“Midnight.”

“I’ll drive you home, if you like.”

Her eyes glow. “Thanks, Clark. Your pizza should be up soon.”

I nod, admiring the incredible view as she walks away. Then my head snaps to the right to catch a few other men staring at her ass as well. Their heads drop guiltily as if to say they’ll never do that again.

No, they fuckingwon’t.

I’m not just playing the part of her boyfriend for a few hours to keep her safe.

Elena is already mine.

2

ELENA

The most attractive, burliest guy I’ve ever seen just jumps in to protect me? Wow, this town really is different. Looking around at the last of the Saturday night crowd as they file out, I can tell I’m definitely not in the city anymore.

The way Clark shielded me with his massive body so that I could close my eyes and take a breath… my stomach clenches at the memory of it. I’m safe with him. How do I know this? No idea. Yet I’m positive it’s the truth.

The second before he whispered in my ear, he gave me such a sweet, genuine smile. His eyes lit up, as if he was glad to see me. As if he was…I don’t know…over the moon to be so close to me. Many guys like to be near women because it gives them a dirty little thrill. Clark’s closeness felt as wholesome as this sweet, sleepy town.

…Even though there was a gleam in his gorgeous brown eyes telling me there might be a naughty spark buried deep within him.

I wipe down all the tables while Clark busies himself with his phone, pretending not to watch me. It’s okay, though. I like hiseyes on me. It’s as if there’s some sort of invisible connection between us already.

The mountain men out here are truly fascinating. They aren’t hyper energized like urban guys. They’re laid-back. Most of them are super friendly. But there are some who are…loners, I guess. Gruff and grumpy. Keep to themselves.

I’ve seen Clark a few times before, and each time I’ve been struck by his gorgeous face. Not to mention the way he fills out his snug t-shirts. He must be in his mid-thirties, I guess, and definitely the outdoorsy type. Yet it’s the faraway, almost lost look in his eyes that always makes me take notice. Is he a very deep thinker, or is it just that he zones out while he’s driving?

---