Page 58 of Her Rugged Guardian

Granted, being a carpenter had to mean less pain and stress, unless he fell off a roof, but he certainly didn’t seem happy withthe decisions he’d made. Maybe nobody was, often forced into situations we hated.

As I nibbled on a fresh strawberry, I found it next to impossible not to steal a glance or five of his half-hardened cock. How could any man remain so enlarged for such a long period of time? He had his fingers wrapped around his glass, his arm hung low as he stared at the flames licking against the fake wood. He remained devoid of a stitch of clothing while I’d insisted on grabbing a robe. The fact there were only a few blinds on the downstairs windows was something I wanted to fix quickly.

The thought of being on display, especially after being certain someone had been watching the house kept me partially on edge. However, he seemed completely comfortable in his skin, ignoring the scars. They drew me in like a moth to a flame, the literal interpretation weighing on my mind.

I shifted so I could face him, trying to draw his attention. It appeared from where I was sitting his eyes were dilated, the man deep in thought. When I playfully teased him by sliding a strawberry across his lips, he didn’t move at all.

Until he growled, snapping his teeth down on the oversized berry, narrowly missing my fingers.

As I burst into laughter, he remained stoic, munching the fruit while finally shifting his eyes to mine. After swallowing, he tossed back half the liquid from his glass, still staring at me. The man was so intense in everything he did that this was unnerving, more so than I wanted to admit.

“Just ask, Cassandra,” he told me in a much quieter voice than normal.

“Ask what?”

“Whatever it is that you can barely contain. Just know that the answers might not be ones you want to hear.”

I pulled my knees up, resting my head on them, the angle allowing me to gaze into his eyes. What I’d realized was that there was nothing fake about the man. If he smiled, he meant it. Sadly, I sensed the many reasons he ached inside prevented him from enjoying the majority of most days. “You were lost a little in those woods. Weren’t you?”

Sighing, he took a few seconds before nodding. “Yeah, and I’m sorry about that. I’ve had nightmares for years based on the work I did with the local fire department. Lately, the visions have been crowding into the daylight hours.”

“Any reason why?”

“Lots of them. It’s just something I don’t talk about.”

“Talking can ease the pain.”

One side of his mouth curled and he flitted his eyes toward me. The firelight was making them shimmer, his pupils little more than dark pools. “Not for me. I was forced to try that mechanism, the psychiatrists giving up.”

“Oh, Jake. I wish I could help.”

“You know what? You have. You’ve allowed me to feel alive again. That’s amazing in itself.” He took a sip of his drink, returning to his reflecting mode, another full two minutes of quiet settling between us.

“Who was she?” I asked, breaking the silence once again.

“Who?”

“The girl who’s been on your mind.”

“You mean the girl who broke my heart?”

“The one Millie called a bitch.”

He snorted, swirling the liquor in his glass. “Millie always had a soft spot for me but keep in mind she can embellish the truth. Besides, it doesn’t really matter at this point.”

“Sure it does. Love, light, and loss shape everyone’s personality.”

“For me, you mean the loss jaded it.”

“I try to remain positive,” I told him. “I’m not always good at it, but I do try.” Why was the conversation so right yet so awkward? Maybe because I was tired of worrying, frustrated over what couldn’t be changed.

“Which is the real reason you moved here. To get away from your ex, right?”

Now I was the one glancing at the fire. “We all have our crosses to bear.”

“Uh-huh. Yet you want me to spill my guts while you can’t trust me.”

“Do you trust me?”

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