Page 30 of Her Remarkable Protector

The nurse halts mid-step and turns back.

“Could you ask my bodyguard to come in?” I request.

The nurse doesn’t even have to turn around. She gives Chase a small nod before slipping out, leaving the door ajar.

Chase steps into the room, looking out of place but endearing at the same time. A man his size, his presence, doesn’t belong in this world of pastel blankets and newborn cries, but there’s something about the way he carries himself—like he’d bulldoze through walls to keep this fragile bubble intact—that makes it work.

He hesitates at the door for a beat, his eyes scanning the room before landing on me. “You called?” he says.

The force he carries is potent—intensely male. It’s unfamiliar, even with a life surrounded by men like him. It feels dangerously electric, leaving my body utterly defenseless.

I pull myself together. “Yeah. Don’t just stand there like you’re guarding a vault.”

He chuckles, stepping closer, and I notice the awkward way he glances at Laramie, as if she’s the most intimidating thing he’s ever seen. For all his strength and skill, there’s a gentleness about him now, a kind of awe that feels disarming.

“Everything okay?” he asks, his voice low, careful, like he’s testing the waters.

“Yeah,” I reply, my gaze drifting to Laramie, then back to him. “Thanks for this.” I gesture vaguely toward the room, the flowers, all of it.

Chase shrugs, his posture casual but his eyes steady on mine. “The least I could do.” He hesitates for a beat before adding, “Congratulations.”

“Thanks, Mr. Samson,” I say, half-teasing, half-formal, because I’m not sure how else to respond.

“I’d prefer Chase,” he says with a faint smile. “Like the first time you called me that.”

“Did I?”

“You did.” The smile lingers, subtle but sincere.

When? Where?It doesn’t matter!

“Wow, what a view,” he says, staring out the window. “Not bad for a hospital.”

I haven’t looked myself, but I believe him. A snarky comment like ‘you paid for it’ hovers on the tip of my tongue, but I let it go.

Finally he glances toward the cot, the pink blanket draped over the edge catching his eye. “Lots of pink,” he comments, his tone somewhere between neutral observation and genuine curiosity.

“Yes,” I say, watching him carefully. “It’s a girl.”

He nods, and something shifts in his expression—warmth, pride even—but he stays rooted where he is, like he’s unsure if he’s allowed to be part of this moment. His stillness contrasts with the questions in his eyes, as if he wants to ask, to know more, but doesn’t know if he has the right.

“She’s beautiful,” he says, his voice almost reverent.

I take a breath, hesitating before asking about the boy I’ve sworn to protect. “Oakley. Is he safe?”

“He’s safe,” Chase replies, his voice reassuring. “He’s still with Ethan. Mira’s been trying to get to him, but Ethan is keeping him at arm’s length. And Mark Connor—Ethan’s dad and my boss—he doesn’t let anything slip past him.”

I nod, relief mingling with the unease I still feel. “And Mira? She hasn’t pulled any stunts?” I know that woman too well. She wouldn’t dare cross Damon, but to everyone else, she’d act like she was him.

Chase’s expression hardens. “She’s threatening to sue Red Mark.”

I stiffen at his words. “Sue? Can she even do that?”

“She can try,” he says with a wry smile. “But we’re more than ready to defend the case. We’ve got hospital records and other evidence that corroborate what she and Damon did to Oakley. If she wants a fight, she’s picked the wrong people.”

I exhale, the weight on my chest easing. “So Oakley will never go back to the Stones?”

“We intend to keep it that way,” he says firmly. “Oakley deserves better, and we’ll make sure he gets it.”

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