Page 18 of His to Protect

Why? Who the fuck knew? I sure didn’t.

She turned and looked at me, and her wistful expression and soft eyes tightened my chest into knots. I knew exactly what she saw, because my home was like most of the homes in Latham Hills, especially those closest to the downtown area.

It was a small, three-bedroom two-story. It was also old, with curved and arched doorways and cramped, small rooms. Open-concept wasn’t a thing back in the late forties when the house was built, so all the rooms were walled off.

“Backyard is this way.” I pointed past the living room and all the decorations that Mara had bought, thinking that if I sold everything, I could probably pay the lease on Fireside for at least two months. The woman had expensive tastes and had never adjusted to a tight budget. I allowed it because it made her happy.

At least I’d thought it did.

When I reached the sliding-glass door, I pulled open the vertical blinds, the clatter of plastic on plastic the only sound in the room until Boomer began to whine and press his nose against the glass. I flipped on the outdoor lights and slid the door open.

“It’s fenced in,” I said, watching Trina try to maintain control of her excited dog. “And the gates are padlocked. It’s safe for him.”

“It’s beautiful.” She bent down and unclasped Boomer’s leash from his collar. He sat at the door, whining for his freedom, but waited for Trina’s command before he took off.

Her soft laugh filled the air. “Thank you for this.” She turned to me with an appreciative smile. “It’s been a long time since he’s been able to run free.”

“Yard’s small.” I shrugged and slid my hands into my back pockets.

“It’s perfect.” She turned to look out back and I took a minute to figure out what she saw. The yard was small, but mostly private. In the back corner, I had a small triangular area of pines and other bushes that not only offered privacy, but a spot for the fire pit I built last summer when Mara wanted to roast marshmallows.

She refused to do it over our charcoal grill, so I spent the weekend building her her own private area in the backyard.

I’d feel like a pussy for it now, being so whipped, but my dad would still do the same crazy shit for my mom if she looked at him the right way, asked him in the right way.

The problem I had, that I’d learned since Mara walked away, was that she didn’t look or ask the right way—the right way being nicely. She just demanded and nagged until it got done, erasing the joy of providing something for her that would make her happy.

I shook my head and stepped back from the doorway as Trina slid the screen door shut.

Outside, Boomer barked.

“I’ll give you a quick tour if you want,” I told her, and headed toward the kitchen.

She gave another glance at the dog running in the backyard. I didn’t hide my smile as I watched Boomer jump into a small spread of dead leaves and roll all over them.

With a wave of my arm, I gestured toward our right. “The kitchen is that way. You saw the living room and we’re in the dining room. Follow me and I’ll show you your room.”

I heard her soft steps tapping on the tile floor behind me as I headed toward the staircase. It turned halfway up the stairway and when I reached the corner, I looked over my shoulder to ensure she was still following me.

“You okay?” I arched a brow. Her bottom lip was sucked between her teeth again and there was a rosy glow to her cheeks. When her eyes met mine she glanced at the floor and nodded.

I frowned at her sudden nervousness. She was probably second-guessing if this was the best decision.

Because of that, I stopped at the doorway closest to the stairs and waited for her.

“You can sleep here.” I reached forward and opened the door, but I stayed in the hallway. The room wasn’t much. A small double bed with a plain, white comforter. The walls were a pale yellow and the bed frame was some gray metal thing Mara bought. The room was totally girly, but this was where my parents usually stayed when they came up from their retirement home in Scottsdale, Arizona.

The roof slanted on the far end where the bedroom window overlooked the backyard. I rarely came in here because I had to duck almost as soon as I was fully inside. Since Mara moved out, the door to this room had stayed closed.

Her chest brushed against my shoulder as she leaned forward, and a small electric jolt buzzed along my skin when she stepped past me.

I took a step back into the hallway and gave her space to look around.

As she did, her eyes softened. That wistful look was back after she’d spun in a complete circle and stood in the middle of the room, looking directly at me.

“You have the best home ever.”

She couldn’t possibly mean it. She probably grew up in mansions with servants…probably a lot like my buddy Tyson’s girlfriend, Blue, whose dad was a legit mafia king, until Tyson put the asshole in jail. But I still found myself nodding my appreciation before I gestured down the hallway.

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