Page 31 of Mountain Protector

His arms wrap around my waist and pulls me between his legs. “I don’t like it, but I get it. You’re not the type to hide.”

“No, I’m not.” I run my fingers through his hair. “Now, I need a shower before we go.”

A slow smile spreads across his face. “Need company?”

“Absolutely not,” I laugh, stepping out of his embrace. “If you join me, we’ll never make it to the shop on time.”

His answering chuckle follows me to the bathroom, warm and rich, making my heart flutter in a way that should be alarming but somehow just feels right.

* * *

Two hours later,I’m setting up my station at Fit Mountain Ink, arranging inks and checking my equipment while Clay completes his third sweep of the premises. He’s been thorough—checking windows, doors, the back alley, even the ventilation system. Now dressed in jeans and a dark henley that does nothing to hide his muscular build, he looks every inch the professional security expert.

“All clear,” he announces, returning to the main area. “But I want you to stay away from the front windows as much as possible.”

“Most of my work happens in the private rooms anyway,” I assure him, calibrating my tattoo machine. “My first client should be here in about fifteen minutes.”

Clay positions himself where he can see both me and the front door, his posture relaxed but alert. I can tell he’s still not happy about this arrangement, but he’s respecting my decision, and I appreciate that more than I can say.

The afternoon continues this way—me working, Clay watching, the constant undercurrent of tension beneath normal interactions. My 3:00 appointment, Mia, is getting a delicate constellation of stars across her shoulder blade, a tribute to her grandmother. Clay maintains his position by the wall, occasionally checking his phone with a frown.

“All done,” I tell Mia, applying a clear bandage over her fresh tattoo. “Keep this on for at least twenty-four hours, then follow the aftercare instructions I emailed you.”

“It’s beautiful,” she says, admiring the work in a hand mirror. “Thank you so much.”

“My pleasure.” I smile, beginning to clean my station. “Clay will walk you to your car.”

Clay steps forward, all business. “Ready?”

Mia looks confused but doesn’t argue as Clay escorts her outside. Through the front windows, I watch him scan the parking lot before opening her car door, waiting until she’s safely inside before heading back.

When he returns, his expression has changed. There’s a new tension in his shoulders, a focus in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

“What’s wrong?” I ask immediately.

Clay checks his phone again. “Just got a text from the office. They’ve picked up some chatter about Holloway’s associates in this area.”

My stomach drops. “Here? Near the shop?”

“Nothing specific, but close enough that I want to do a perimeter check before your last appointment.” He checks his watch. “When are they due?”

“Four-thirty. About forty minutes.”

“I’m going to sweep the area, make sure everything’s clear. While I’m gone, I need you to follow some rules.”

“Okay.” My mouth goes dry.

“Stay away from the windows. Don’t open the door for anyone except me or your scheduled client—and verify it’s them before unlocking.” His voice is deadly serious. “If anything feels wrong text me immediately and lock yourself in the back office.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Fifteen minutes, max.”

I nod, trying to project confidence I don’t feel. “I’ll be fine.”

He studies my face, then presses a quick, hard kiss to my lips. “Fifteen minutes. Lock the door behind me.”

And then he’s gone, the bell chiming as the door closes.

---