Page 12 of Sachie's Hero

But she didn’t move away. She let him hold her hand, trying not to like it so much. She had enough problems; she didn’t need to add hero worship to them.

So, he was easy on the eye. Really easy on the eye. Sachie had dated good-looking guys before. They tended to be more into themselves than the person seated across the table. Besides, she wasn’t looking to start anything with anyone, especially not with a man hired to protect her. And not while she was still suffering classic PTSD symptoms that, on many occasions, literally brought her to her knees.

As a counselor versed in all manners of trauma, she knew it took time to work through PTSD. Some didn’t ever get over it. They just learned how to live with it and got on with life as best they could.

With a stalker bent on making her life hell, she didn’t have time to seek the help of a therapist, so the trauma would continue. Her first goal needed to be to stop the stalker.

Teller turned off the water, grabbed the dishtoweldraped over the oven door handle and gently patted her skin dry. “Better?” he asked.

She nodded, unable to say anything coherent with him standing so close and her breathing once again erratic.

“You sit.” He released her hand and turned her toward the kitchen table. “I’ll bring the coffee.”

Sachie crossed the short distance to the table and sank onto one of the seats. “I’m not usually so clumsy,” she murmured.

“And I imagine you’re not used to having your home broken into.” He cast a smiling glance over his shoulder toward her.

“No, I’m not.” She propped her chin on her fist and watched as Teller, who stood half-turned to her, poured coffee into the two mugs. “You live here in Hilo?”

“I have an apartment in town.” Teller faced her with the two steaming mugs in his hands. He carried them to the table and set one in front of her and the other across the table from where she sat. As soon as he’d deposited the cups, he returned to the counter for the milk. “Sugar?”

“In the cabinet over the coffeemaker,” she said.

He found the sugar and brought it, the milk and a spoon to the table.

While Teller sipped his black coffee, Sachiedoctored hers with the milk and sugar, stirring longer than necessary as an awkward silence stretched between them.

“So, let me understand,” she said, needing to fill the vacuum, “Hawk sent you to protect me. How does that work?”

He set his mug on the table. “Where you go, I go until the stalker is caught.”

She frowned. “What if it takes weeks?”

Teller shrugged. “Then I’m with you for weeks.”

Her frown deepened. “‘With me,’ what does that mean?”

“I need to be where I can see you twenty-four-seven.”

Sachie raised her eyebrows. “You don’t intend to stay in my house, do you? Let’s be clear: I have no intention of sleeping with you or you sleeping in the same room with me. And there’s no way you’re going into the bathroom with me.”

“Sleeping with me is not part of my job description.” His lips quirked. “It’s completely optional. As for following you into the bathroom, as long as I clear it first, you’ll have your privacy.”

“And what about my work? I counsel minors. I can’t have you in the room while working with a patient. It violates client-patient confidentiality.”

“You can see your patients privately...after I’ve searched them for weapons.”

Sachie’s eyes widened. “You can’t treat them like criminals. They come to me for help, not to be harassed. And I’m not sure I want you to stay in my house. This is my space where I come for peace.”

Teller’s gaze went to the holes in the wall where the police officers had dug the bullets out of the sheetrock. “How’s that working for you?”

His words hit her in the chest and sank to the bottom of her belly.

“If I’m to protect you, I must be close enough to do my job effectively.” He leaned toward her. “Like I was in the backyard.”

“Oh my God. I completely forgot.” Sachie leaped to her feet. “You were shot. Shouldn’t we be taking you to the hospital or something?”

He shrugged. “I’d forgotten about it. It can’t be all that bad. It doesn’t hurt much, and I have a full range of motion.” He lifted his left arm over his head and winced. “It just stings a little.”

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