Protected (Darker Steamy Shorts #5)

CHAPTER 1

BURKE

“Large coffee. Black, for…” she calls.

I step to the counter and take my cup from her.

As I clasp my cup, my finger touches hers.

Only the slightest graze, but I instantly feel something deep inside of me stir.

The sunlight slants in through the window, making her strawberry-blond hair glimmer.

Light glints off her silver-blue eyes. Eyes so pure, they nearly stop my heart.

Her full, heart-shaped lips curl upward in a smile that would melt a lesser man. Not me.

“You know, I can tell a lot about a person by their coffee order,” she says.

“Is that so?” I ask.

“She nods. “I can.”

“So, what does my coffee order tell you about me?”

“It tells me you’re steady. Reliable. That you value consistency.”

I grin. “You make me sound predictable.”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. There’s a lot to be said for consistency.”

Chuckling, I raise the cup to her. “Thanks, darlin’.”

“You betcha.”

I walk back to my table in the far corner of the coffee shop and sit down.

From here, I have a view of the entire place as well as one of Brynn.

I was struck by the cute, pixie-like girl from the moment I set foot in here.

And it’s because of her that I’ve been coming back for the last couple of months.

I tell myself it’s to do some paperwork for my job, but I could do it at home. In truth, I keep coming back for her.

Brynn is gorgeous. And the moment I laid eyes on her, I had a reaction unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.

It was visceral. A foot shorter than me and literally half my age, this girl has fueled more than a few of my fantasies.

For the last couple of months, she’s been the star of every filthy thought I’ve had while I jerk off in the shower.

Just looking at the girl is fucking intoxicating.

I settle down at my table and open my laptop, keeping one eye on the screen, the other eye on Brynn.

I have fantasies rolling through my head like a non-stop porn channel.

They make it difficult for me to fill out these reports I need to turn in to my client.

But the work needs to get done, so I do my best to muddle through.

Mrs. Pringle needs to know her husband is nailing his secretary.

It’s what she’s paying me for, after all.

“You look like you could use a fresh cup.”

Raising my head, I find myself staring into Brynn’s silver-blue eyes.

My heart lurches, and my jeans start getting tighter as I take in the full, round breasts on her small, delicate frame.

I glance at my watch, surprised to find that an hour’s gone by.

And when I look at the report on my laptop, I’m appalled to see my report is only half-done.

I sigh. “Yeah, looks like I need one.”

“Working, huh?” she asks as she sets down a fresh cup. “On the house.”

“Thank you,” I respond. “And yeah. Just doing some paperwork.”

She glances at my screen and frowns at the incident report I’m working on. “What do you do? Are you a cop?”

“PI,” I say.

She laughs. “You’re a PI?”

“I am.”

“No offense, but aren’t PIs supposed to like, blend in? Like, be invisible?”

“I blend in.”

She laughs again. “You’re way too big to blend in.”

A smirk tugs the corner of my mouth. “How big somebody is matters less than you think. Most people are so self-absorbed that they don’t notice the people around them. It’s just a matter of taking advantage of their blind spots.”

“Blind spots, huh?”

“That’s right.”

A group of twenty-somethings comes through the door and Brynn offers me a smile. She hesitates, almost as if there’s something more she wants to say, but…

“Well, I should get back to work.”

“Thanks for the coffee.”

“Anytime.”

I sit back in my chair and watch Brynn as she handles her customers.

She’s personable. Sweet. And she has this bright, magnetic personality that draws me to her like a fucking moth to a porch light.

I won’t act on these impulses—she’s far too young for me.

She’s twenty years old—literally half my age.

But Jesus Christ, do I want to. I really do.

Young or not, there is just something about this girl that re-lights a fire inside of me. A fire that burned out a long time ago.

The twenty-somethings get their coffee and depart, leaving me sitting at my table with about half a dozen other people scattered around the coffee shop.

I watch Brynn wiping down the counter and laughing with her co-workers.

Her voice is high and light. It’s musical.

Not to be too poetic or anything, but her voice, and especially her laughter, reminds me of the crystal wind-chimes hanging outside my bedroom window.

As if she feels me watching her, she glances over.

Her eyes sparkle, and a small smile turns the corners of her mouth up.

Yeah, I would really love nothing more than to sit her on that counter and rail her right now.

But I can’t. I won’t let myself fall into that rabbit hole of lust and desire. It wouldn’t be good for either of us.

I turn away from her and focus on my report.

As I do, a man in a dark suit walks into the coffee shop.

I’ve always had this innate ability to read people.

To get a sense of them. It’s not perfect, of course, but my gut feeling about a person is usually right more often than it’s wrong.

And something about the guy who just walked in immediately sets my teeth on edge, so I sit back, quietly observing him as he approaches the counter.

He smiles widely at Brynn, and I frown, liking the guy even less.

A few inches shorter than me, with a lean build and professionally styled hair, about the only thing the guy has going for him, in my view, is that he dresses well.

His suit is designer and well-tailored. But he’s got an air about him I find completely off-putting.

He chats Brynn up, making her laugh, and it’s all I can do to keep myself from jumping up, dragging him out of the coffeehouse by the lapels of his designer fucking suit, and throwing him into the street.

Although my face is buried in my computer, I’m listening to their conversation.

He’s flirting hard with her. Brynn is giggling a lot and sounds nervous.

For being as beautiful as she is, she doesn’t seem like a girl with a lot of experience with men.

And this guy is laying it on thick. I want to stand up and tell her this guy is feeding her a line.

That he’s full of shit and is just playing her to get into her pants. But it’s not my place.

It’s harder than hell to remain silent, though, when he invites her to dinner.

Brynn is reluctant but agrees, and I have to force myself to stay calm and not put a hole in the wall.

Letting out a long, deep breath, I calm myself down.

I have no claim to this girl. I can’t dictate who she does and doesn’t go out with.

But… I can make sure she has all the information she needs to make a good decision.

On a scrap of paper, I jot down the fucker’s name. I may not have a claim on Brynn, but there’s something I don’t like about this guy, something that starts red flags waving in my mind, so I want to make certain she knows what she’s getting herself into.