Page 17 of Sworn to Protect

Her mouth opens and then shuts. I ignore her friend’s smirk. But I must’ve been a fool if I thought Mackenzie would take anything I’m offering. It was like pulling teeth to get her to accept my plumbing help.

“I can’t have you do that.”

“Why not?”What am I doing?She’s giving me an out, and I’m not taking it.

“Because I don’t know you. My kids . . .”

As her words trail off, I tamp down the anger that flairs from her quick rejection and remind myself that she doesn’t know me. Not like I know her. I know particular things about her I shouldn’t. Like how she dislikes her food to touch. Or how she eats one food group first before moving to the next. And how Liam lovessuperheroes but insists DC Comics is far superior. Or how Nick will only drink chocolate milk if made from powdered chocolate, not liquid. These odd idiosyncrasies are things I shouldn’t know but do after listening to Ethan complain about them these past few years. My jaw ticks. Knowing all this doesn’t help calm the sudden rage bubbling inside. I want her to trust me, but that doesn’t look like it will happen.

“Well, then, good luck.” I grab the coffee from the counter and stalk to the door. Leaving this town is for the best. It’s what needs to happen. If I stay . . .shit, if I stay, she’ll get under my skin. Reaching my truck, I grunt in protest at what my mind has figured out—she’s already there.

I tug the truck door open, determined to drive anywhere but here. I’ll figure out the location as I go.

“Nate, wait,” Mackenzie yells as she flies out of the café.

I pause, contemplating my options. If I turn to face her, I won’t leave. I’ll be sucked back into the world of protecting her while knowing I want her. It isn’t fair of me to do that to her. Mackenzie isn’t the type of woman you have sex with and forget. And I’m not a long-term kind of guy. My best choice is to hop into the driver’s seat and ride off in the sunset. Except it’s nine in the morning, and I’m turning to face her.

“I’m sorry. That came out all wrong. I know you’re not here to cause harm.”

“There was truth in your statement. You know nothing about me. You have every right to protect your kids. It’s what any good mother should do.”

“I know, but I just . . .” She glances inside my cab, her eyebrows scrunching as she takes in my suitcases and boxes. “Are you leaving?”

Her confused expression morphs into concern and sparks a fire deep in the pit of my stomach. I swallow the yes on the tip of my tongue as the decision to leave does a complete one-eighty for the third time today. “No. I just haven’t unpacked everything yet.”

I don’t know why I felt compelled to lie. Maybe because deep down, I know I’m not going anywhere. I’m a soldier. I’m strong.But this girl brings me to my knees and gives me mental whiplash. The decision is made. From now on, I’ll be here to help for as long as needed. No more going back and forth and wondering when to cut ties. I’ll wait until her mom gets back from the trip. One month won’t kill me.

“I just wanted to let you know I’m sorry.” Her gaze locks and holds with mine. I step closer. Her breath hitches as confliction crosses her face. I’m pushing my limits, but I can’t seem to stop.

“Apology accepted.” My voice comes across gruffer than expected, but she doesn’t back away.

“Thank you.”

The softness of her voice causes a lump to form in my throat, making my voice garbled. “As I said, I’m here. If you need anything, call.”

“Okay. I better get back in there.” She says the words but doesn’t make an effort to move.

“I’ll keep the phone close by.” And before I do something stupid like pull her into a kiss, I turn and slip into my truck. I don’t look back as I head toward The Cabins. But I get the distinct feeling she’s still standing there watching.

CHAPTER EIGHT

MACKENZIE

Can’tanything in my life go right?

“That’s okay, Sandy. I’ll figure something out. Things happen.” I just wish it wasn’t happening to me. I plop onto my mattress. Glancing at the clock, I grind my teeth to keep from sighing. The last thing I want to do is make my friend feel bad, but I’m so screwed. Missing my first nursing clinical isn’t an option. Not only are we getting certified in cardiopulmonary resuscitation, but we’re only allowed one absence per semester. The school’s zero-tolerance policy won’t care about my situation.

But damn it, where am I going to find a replacement sitter in less than two hours?

I know where.

“You don’t know how awful I feel, though.” Sandy drops her voice and adds, “In more ways than one.”

My heart squeezes. I hope Sandy and the kids feel better. One would think a nursing student would have more empathy and not think about her own dire situation. But this isn’t about empathy; it’s survival.

“Please, don’t feel bad. Focus on getting your family healthy. I should start calling people. Get better, okay?”

We hang up, and I force myself to sit up. Feeling sorry for myselfwon’t fix anything. I wrack my brain, but since moving back to a town where I hardly know anyone, I’m out of options for people I can trust.

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