Guardian (Fearless Protectors #5)

Chapter One

Daphne

A cool breeze carries the scent of pine through the forest as I sit on a nearby rock to contemplate the entirety of my existence. It sounds dramatic, but lately, the turquoise river and the towering trees are where I feel safest. I suppose it’s the natural hug the forest offers, or maybe there’s something in the song of the birds that relaxes me. Either way, this is where I’ve sat every Saturday morning for six months. For the most part, this section of the woods is quiet. I think it’s due to the river crossing halfway up the trail. Most folks like the worn path that carries them up to the falls. The old me preferred that track as well. There’s a gorgeous waterfall with a forty-foot drop that spills into the rocky, blue river. It’s one of the best views in Rugged Mountain, and people come from all over the place to get pictures. That said, it’s crowded, and the new me likes life a little more isolated lately, which is why the sound of crunching leaves tightens my chest. I like solitude, and I don’t want to deal with the small talk that comes with running into someone on a trail.

I turn back quickly, ready to awkwardly stare down whoever’s decided to disturb my quiet little perch of perfection, but instead, I’m enamored, which is something that doesn’t usually happen.

“Morning.”

A giant man crunches through the woods toward me. He wears red flannel, a baseball cap, and his beard is nearly gray. I’d guess he’s in his early fifties, but the bulging biceps confuse me. I’m not sure I’ve seen a man his age look… so jacked.

“Morning,”

I say with a sigh as the newest member of my family begins barking uncontrollably. “Sorry. I just adopted him this weekend. We’re still working on our manners.”

The man smiles and bends down to pet the German Shepherd I thought I could handle. “What’s his name?”

“Rocky.”

I don’t add much because I’m not looking for conversation. But if I were talking, I’d tell him I didn’t choose his name. It was the name the shelter found on his tag.

“Rocky.”

The man bends forward and scratches the dog between the ears. “He’s sweet.”

“No, he’s not sweet. I’ve only had him for three days and he’s already torn up my garden, dug a hole under the fence, and scratched up the front door.”

The goliath straightens and crosses his arms, further showing off his bulging biceps. “A dog like this needs loads of exercise. You letting him off leash every day?”

I roll my eyes to the side and back again. I want to be very obvious about how displeasing I’m finding this conversation. “I exercise him plenty. Thanks.”

“Doesn’t sound like you do if he’s digging up your yard and destroyin’ property. Maybe you needed something smaller, like a lapdog.”

I laugh. “You’ve known me for thirty seconds and you’re telling me what I need?”

He cocks a half smile and brushes his square hand down over his face. “I trained dogs for the police. I retired from the force a year ago. It’s how I stay involved. This dog isn’t a house dog. He’s never going to sit on the couch and listen to you cry about your feelings.”

What the hell is up with this dude? “Well,”

I grin and roll my eyes, ignoring the way his broad shoulders widen when he talks, “I’ve never been good at choosing.”

He glances down at my hand. “Recent divorce?”

“That obvious?”

“You’ve got that white circle of wisdom still shinin’ on your hand. Mine faded years ago.”

“White circle of wisdom?”

I glance down at my hand and notice the pale white skin where my wedding ring once sat. It’s been six months. How is that still there, and why is this man still talking to me? I hop down off the rock and clutch Rocky’s leash tight against my leg. He hates walking on the leash, and I’m sure I’m going to get a lecture about how I’m walking him all wrong, but the sooner I get out of here, the better off my mental health will be.

“You know you should hold the leash closer to yo—”

“Look,”

I glance toward the man, ready to spew every frustration I’ve had with the last six months in his direction, “it’s my day to relax. It’s my day to come out into the woods and forget every trouble I have. I didn’t ask your opinion, and I don’t need your help.”

He holds up his hands as though I’m robbing him of his right to speak. “Okay… sorry. Just thought I’d help. Can I ask where he was living before you adopted him?”

Yes, because my previous statement definitely alluded to me being interested in more questions. “Why?”

“Just curious.”

The man brushes his big hand down over his beard and shrugs.

Why is he so attractive, why is he still talking to me, and why am I about to answer?

I let out a heavy breath and roll my eyes as though I’m annoyed by the conversation I’m willingly about to continue. Apparently, I’m more desperate for connection than I thought. “The shelter lady told me they found him wandering the highway outside the range. He was near starvation, covered in fleas, and severely dehydrated. They nursed him back to health, and clearly, he has a new lease on life now.”

Rocky tugs on the leash, trying to get closer to the man who smells like some kind of musk I can’t describe. Whatever it is, it’s rugged, masculine, and a little intoxicating.

“Anyway, we should go. I’ve got a—”

“Let me help you. Most of the dogs I train are German Shepherds. I can have this guy sittin’ on the couch next to you if that’s what you want, though he’s going to need a lot of exercise first.”

I glance away, then back again with a smile. This might be the first genuine smile I’ve had with a man in years. “Yeah, but the real question is… can you get him to listen to my feelings?”

The man laughs, tucks his hand into his pocket, and pulls out a business card, handing it toward me. “I’m Boone. You can call that number day or night. I don’t sleep much these days.”

I can’t tell if the comment is an invitation for a conversation on feelings or if he’s trying to sell me his dog training services. Either way, I might call him.

No, I won’t call him. Why would I call him? There’s no reason to call him. I can train my own dog, and I’m not so desperate for attention that I need to hang around some dude who’s pretending to be nice to sell me something.

“Thank you,”

I say, tucking the card back into my pocket. “If things get any worse, we’ll definitely give you a call.”

I guess I didn’t have to say definitely, but I did, and now this is over, so I can go on with my day. I purse my lips as I shuffle forward, thinking about the busy day of nothingness I have planned. Gary wasn’t good for me anymore, but life is a hell of a lot lonelier now.

I grip Rocky’s leash tighter and step around the giant, who looks bigger and bigger the closer I get.

I’ve barely passed him when his hand reaches my wrist and grips it tight. Oh… this is how my story is going to end. Murdered by a sexy devil, in the place I feel the safest, while the dog I got for protection licks him to death. Makes complete sense.

I should really run, kick, or scream. Anything but stand here as the gods controlling my life scream Yahtzee, but I can’t move. I’m stuck searching his steely gray eyes for a reason.

“There’s a man at the base of the trail looking for a woman that fits your description.”

He clears his throat. “I didn’t want to scare you, but I don’t think it’s safe if you leave alone.”

He loosens his grip on my wrist. “Shorter guy. Round, dark hair, beard, angry looking.”

My throat closes, and though I’m trying to speak, words aren’t coming out.

“Does that man sound familiar?”

I nod. “Sounds like my ex, but no one knows I come up here.”

“Is he violent?”

“What?”

I narrow my gaze and back away from the man slowly. “I don’t even know you. How do I know you’re not full of shit?”

“Come down the trail and find out.”

He steps forward out of the tree line, and though I don’t want to follow him, there’s only one way down. Besides, just past the footbridge, there’ll be plenty of people to keep him honest.

Trouble is, I’m barely past the footbridge when I see my ex wandering up the path. I swear the man has never set foot on a trail in his life. He’s wearing sneakers, a pair of gym shorts, and an oversized tee. Surprisingly, his twenty-two-year-old girlfriend isn’t with him. Must be my lucky day.

A heavy breeze blows the scent of pine straight up my nostrils. I swear it’s the universe’s way of centering me.

“Gary? What are you doing here?”

He glances up at the giant man to my left, then toward me. “Could we talk alone for a bit?”

“About what?”

Our divorce was finally settled three months ago. Before that, we spent another three more arguing. I can’t imagine what the hell we’d have to say to each other. We have no children, and our property disputes are settled.

He scratches the side of his face and leans into my ear, the scent of cheap beer on his breath as he says, “I want to talk about you and I, maybe… getting back together.”

I pull my head back and widen my gaze. “Not a chance.”

“Dee,”

he sighs, hand on my shoulder, “just hear me out. Let’s go get coffee or go for a walk.”

We were married for fifteen years. Fifteen years I tried explaining my thoughts and emotions to this man. Fifteen years, and today, after we’re divorced, he wants to talk about how to make this work?

“Leave me alone, Gary. I mean it.”

My tone is curt, and though the dog I adopted for protection is cozied up to Boone for more scratches, he does growl under his breath at Gary.

Okay, clearly we have the same taste in men. That’s a positive.

“Leave you alone?”

Gary snaps. “You’ve been alone for six months. We need to talk this out.”

I’m tempted to ask what happened to his girlfriend, but I don’t want to know.

“She asked you to leave,”

Boone says as he steps forward, his tone low and steady.

“Or what?”

Gary bites. He glances toward me. “Who the hell is this guy?”

“Doesn’t matter who I am.”

Boone steps between Gary and I, towering over us both. I see from this angle that he keeps a handgun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. I should probably be terrified. A big man in the woods with a loaded gun… that’s a little intimidating. At least it would be if I didn’t live up here where that describes most men. Honestly, armed is how I’d describe most women here, too. That said, the whole caveman thing has never really done anything for me before… until now. Now, there's something comforting about this archaic display of protection that’s soothing the wounded bird in me. Soothing might be the wrong word. He's arousing the wounded bird in me.

God, that sounds weird, but it’s true. I can’t remember the last time my clit had its own heartbeat.

Gary laughs under his breath and glances toward me. “This isn’t over, Dee. We’ll talk later.”

He doesn’t bother making eye contact with Boone again because he’s only tough when it comes to women. The man can’t stand up to another man, especially one the size of Boone. I always knew it in my head, but watching it play out in real life is much more validating.

Boone turns back toward me, his gaze searching mine for something I can’t figure out just yet. Finally, he says, “You’re shaken up. Let’s go get you some tea.”

I know I just met him, he’s much older than me, and I promised myself I wouldn’t start something new, but it’s only a drink. One single drink, and honestly, what else am I doing today?