Page 11 of Guardian

“Oh God! Jackson did you get cut?” I asked, suddenly remembering how he’d cuddled with me in the shards.

“No, I just got some glass stuck in my pajamas,” he replied.

“Go change right now. Be careful not to let the glass scratch you. Throw those pajamas in the trash.”

“Okay, Mom,” he answered, looking at Sweet for confirmation that it was the right thing to do.

“We’ll be fine, Jackson. I’m going to clean your mother’s cuts and make sure no glass is stuck in them,” Sweet declared.

Without another word, my son obeyed.

The way he’d turned to Sweet broke my heart. I was his mother, the one who’d done everything she could to care for him since birth, and yet it was obvious he wanted a man in his life. He seemed to need the machismo that was coming from Sweet in outrageous amounts.

“My son acts like this is your house.”

“That’s not it at all. He’s worried about you and in need of an authority figure to help him take care of you. In his eyes, I fit the description. Let me do what I can to ease his fear.” His voice was so gentle despite his size. Maybe that was why he was called Sweet.

I nodded, because damn it he was right. He offered the stability and calmness I wasn’t able to give at the moment. And if I was being honest, I was angry with myself for that. For choosing the wrong man to have a child with, for not being able to get far enough away, for not being protective and strong enough.

So many things.

“The bathroom is the first door down the hallway. I keep peroxide, cotton balls, and bandages under the sink. The tweezers are in the drawer,” I said as a peace offering.

He grinned, and my double-crossing heart did a little dance in my chest. This wasn’t good at all.

I swept the glass up while he retrieved the first aid things. By the time he returned I was back to my old self and not enthusiastic about him touching me.

He frowned at the stubborn glare on my face and ordered, “Sit wherever you’re most comfortable, preferably where the light is good so I can find all the splinters of glass.”

I chose a bar stool at the counter. It made me high enough that he wouldn’t have to bend too far from his superior height and made me feel less intimidated.

“This is gonna burn,” he warned before he began cleaning the wounds.

It did. So did the tugging he had to do with the tweezers a few times. He was careful and attentive, I had to admit. Worse, having him so close got my heart going again. His smell, so musky and delicious, caused a warmth between my legs that was most unwelcome under the circumstances.

In self-defense, I said, “This rescue doesn’t mean I’ll sleep with you. I’m not a princess who pays with her body.”

His deep chuckle made me wet, which was infuriating, especially when he replied, “I need a better challenge than a defenseless woman who’s been attacked in the last hour.”

I rolled my eyes and said, “I’m not defenseless. Don’t try anything, or you’ll find out I’m more like a cornered tiger.”

“I swear I don’t have those kinds of motives tonight. But I do insist on staying here. I can’t leave the two of you here without even a door between you and danger. He might come back and even lead his enemies to you. I’ll find a way to board up the door and stand guard in the living room so you can sleep without fear.”

Jackson returned to the room, looking between us. “Mom, will you let him do that? I was going to try, but I’m so tired and scared.”

For his sake, I couldn’t say no. “It’ll make me feel better too. Go to bed, mijo. We’re safe with Sweet.”

Jackson hugged me goodnight and then headed for Sweet too. The large man hugged him back, ruffled his hair, and gave him a fist pump before he stated, “I’ve got this. You’re off duty for the night.”

Once Jackson was gone, I felt the need to say, “I’m sorry I judged you on first sight. I can admit most of my opinions about you were wrong. You’ve done more for him in a few weeks than his father has done in twelve years, especially tonight. However, I’m not a pushover. I know there’s more to you. What’s your deal?”

Sweet looked me over more a moment as if sizing me up. “Are you sure you want to know this tonight? You’ve been through a lot.”

I pursed my lips and stood up, meaning to walk over to the couch. The stool wasn’t a comfortable place to be for the night whether I slept or not. And I doubted I would. But my body hurt, and I needed something soft.

Sweet came to me in an instant, taking my elbow and guiding me to the sofa. I gave him a side eye, wondering why he was so protective over me. He was a good-looking man but covered in tats and rippling muscles. He was a mentor for kids but supposedly not because he was mandated in court to do so.

There had to be a story there, and if he was going to be around my son, I had to at least know.

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