His Christmas Angel (Motorcycles and Mistletoe #3)

Chapter 1

Chapter one

Riley

I blew out a shaky breath in an attempt to calm my nerves.

The Cup of Heaven coffee shop bustled with activity for the holiday season.

Every inch of the place was swathed in delightfully colorful, kitschy Christmas decorations.

The scent of coffee permeated the air, with a hint of sharp peppermint and sweet sugar cookies.

Under normal circumstances, this was my favorite time of the year and I soaked up every moment, indulging myself as much as possible.

I volunteered around town at various places—serving at the soup kitchen, running adoption events at the humane society, and setting up the gingerbread house display in the town hall.

I loved making the season magical for everyone.

But this year, I felt removed from it all. Like I was on the outside looking in.

Three months ago, I had an ugly break-up with my ex-boyfriend, Chett. Our relationship had been rocky for a while—his volatile temper, his cutting remarks about my weight, guilting me that I wasn’t a good enough girlfriend and I should try harder.

My stupid, hopeless romantic heart thought it was just a rough patch. I was convinced we could work through it.

Then I caught him cheating on me. At first, it was a smudge of lipstick on his cheek. A dark, wine red color that I never wore because it would make me too pale and sickly looking.

I reasoned it away. I made excuses for him. But to be honest, I turned a blind eye because it hurt too much to look directly at the truth.

When I found the string of sexting messages with a busty blonde, I knew I couldn’t deny any of it anymore.

My relationship was over.

Chett didn’t love me, which he openly admitted when I confronted him.

But he wasn’t willing to let me go either.

I sighed, chewing on my thumbnail as I scanned the sidewalk. Watching people hurry by in the wind and snow. Ever since the break-up, I kept replaying all of it in my mind. How did it go wrong so fast? How could I have been so naive?

Chett hounded me with texts and calls all day and all night.

Sometimes, his tone could be sweet, reminding me of the good times we had together.

But his mood could turn on a dime, spewing hateful vitriol that I was a useless waste of space and no one would ever tolerate me the way he did.

I should be grateful, he said. I should come crawling back to him and beg his forgiveness…

I swallowed around the lump in my throat and took a scalding sip of my coffee. Last week, Chett escalated his efforts to get me back. He tried to break my door down.

I called the cops, but he bolted before they showed up. And since he didn’t actually succeed in any breaking and entering…the cops had their hands tied. They offered to give him a warning, but I knew that was nothing more than a slap on the wrist and he would easily ignore it.

Desperate for a solution, I went in search of protection on my own.

Which led me here, waiting for Gil “Nitro” Mullins to show up. According to the website I found, he owned the Iron Forge Security Agency, offering protection and security services for the state of Colorado.

As soon as I saw his picture, I knew he would be the man for the job.

With intimidating dark eyes, the firm set to his mouth, and a body thick with muscle, he looked like the human equivalent of a military tank.

Chett liked to think he was a tough guy after a short-lived career in high school football as a defensive lineman. Until an injury messed up his shoulder and took him out of the game. His pride never recovered, and he turned to taking out his anger on the world.

I doubted his toughness could hold a candle to Mullins.

After mustering up the courage to call the security agency, I agreed to meet Mullins publicly to go over paperwork and discuss further details. Since he didn’t have an office, and he didn’t encourage potential clients to visit his private home, we settled on the coffee shop.

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I didn’t notice when the door opened and Mullins entered, scanning the room until his gaze settled on me. Movement finally caught my attention and I glanced up.

Holy shit. His picture online didn’t do justice to the sheer size of him.

“Are you Riley Butler?” he asked, extending his hand.

I scrambled out of my chair, expecting his handshake to crush my fingers. Instead, his grip was firm and brief, but careful, too. This man knew what he was capable of and he kept diligent control over it.

That was a refreshing change from my ex.

“Thank you for meeting me on such short notice, Mr. Mullins,” I replied. “Especially so close to Christmas.”

Placing a file folder on the table, he removed his coat and draped it over the back of his chair. I tried—and failed miserably—to stop myself from staring at his tight black T-shirt, practically vacuum-sealed to his muscles. Or the tattoo ink that covered every inch of his arm down to the wrist.

He gestured for me to sit first.

“Mr. Mullins has always been too formal for my taste. We’ll be spending a lot of time together during the holiday season. Call me Nitro, like everyone else.”

“Nitro,” I echoed. “How did you come by a name like that?”

“Let’s just say, my chemistry phase as a kid had a tendency to be explosive. Once you get a reputation for blowing shit up—pardon my French—it follows you for the rest of your life.”

I laughed softly at his dry wit, and my anxiety began to ease. I guess I had been bracing myself to meet him, expecting a mean bully of a man like my ex. Someone who used his size and his forcefulness to intimidate me into submission.

Nitro seemed to be fully aware of the effect he had on people, but he made an effort to mitigate that impact whenever he could.

Even though his voice was gruff, his tone was measured and quiet.

His presence matched the mountains outside the coffee shop’s window—steady, powerful, protective, with the potential to weather any storm that came his way.

Then again, I had been horrifically wrong about my ex, too. What if I was misjudging Nitro the same way I’d misjudged Chett for so many years? I didn’t really trust my judgment in men right now.

I cleared my throat and motioned to the file folder in front of Nitro.

“So, how does this work?” I asked.

He nodded, taking my cue to get down to business. He flipped open his file and slid a stack of papers over to me, placing a pen on top.

“We’ll go over payment plans and your contract. I don’t do that fine print shit. All terms are stated clearly, without the legal jargon headache. Bottom line: I’m your shadow. Where you go, I go.”

“Won’t it look strange?” I asked.

“Meaning…?” he prompted.

I gestured to…all of him.

“You’re not exactly the type to disappear in a crowd. Won’t it look strange to have a giant following me around town? I thought—I don’t know—I thought you’d have to be more subtle than that.”

Nitro leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.

“Did you have something in mind?”

I fumbled, suddenly feeling flustered. Nitro was the professional here. Not me. He knew what he was doing. But now that I’d opened my mouth, I had to follow through.

“Like fake dating. Or pretending we just got married. People might get concerned if they saw someone like you—no offense—essentially stalking me. But they won’t look twice if you’re acting like my boyfriend.”

Nitro arched an eyebrow. I could have sworn the corner of his mouth flickered with amusement.

“If that’s the way you want to play it, I’m flexible. But I don’t do subtle in that department. If I’m pretending to be your boyfriend, I will slip you tongue and grab your ass in public.”

I choked on my coffee, wheezing. Nitro was definitely amused now, watching me struggle. My cheeks flamed hot as I imagined the weight of his large hand on my ass, or plunging his tongue between my lips as he kissed me in full view of everyone in town, until I was breathless and weak in the knees.

What on earth was wrong with me? Why was I fantasizing about tongue-kissing a complete stranger? Sure, I could admit that Nitro was hot. And I was…lonely. Scared. Heart broken.

Chett and I had been together for five years. Next year, I’d be staring down the barrel of my thirtieth birthday. I’d fully expected to be married by then, or at least engaged. Not hiring a bodyguard to protect me from my cheating ex.

In my current vulnerable state, everything about Nitro was tempting. A protective gentleman. Polite. Considerate. With a secret filthy side to him that I would have loved to tease out.

“Maybe we should…um…skip that option for now,” I rasped.

“Let me know if you change your mind,” Nitro replied.

I couldn’t tell if he was joking or serious while he leafed through his file. But I didn’t have the guts to ask. Recovering from my previous blunder was bad enough. The last thing I needed was to stick my foot in my mouth for a second time.

Thankfully, Nitro changed the subject, directing us back to the business at hand.

“Why don’t you tell me more about this ex-boyfriend you mentioned on the phone? I need as many details as you’re willing to offer.”

I inhaled a steadying breath and released it. Then I started talking. I couldn’t help feeling a prickle of embarrassment as I spoke. When I laid it all out like this, it seemed painfully obvious that Chett was a total asshole. Why did I waste five whole years of my life on that prick?

And now, I felt…gross, tainted, burdened by the searing brand of his words on my brain.

You look like a beached whale in that dress. Change into something else. I don’t want to be seen with you in that thing at dinner.

You’re lucky that you landed a guy like me. No one else would put up with your crap the way I do.

Come on, you can’t blame me for cheating. A majority of women are prettier than you. It’s just part of a man’s nature to appreciate a beautiful woman.

My voice cracked at the flood of memories and I broke off mid-sentence. I clutched my coffee cup, biting my lower lip as I fought to compose myself again.

“I’ve heard enough,” Nitro said gently. “You don’t have to continue.”

I nodded, grateful for that. The tightness in my throat prevented a reply though.

I turned to the paperwork before me, but my vision was too blurry with tears to see anything more than a stream of fuzzy words.

Grabbing the pen, I signed my name on the dotted line and pushed the paperwork back to Nitro.

Whatever his terms were, I would agree to them as long as it meant getting this bastard ex out of my life so I could move on and put him behind me.

“I look forward to doing business with you, Ms. Butler,” Nitro said, tucking the paperwork into his file folder.

“That sounds very formal for a man who hates being formal,” I replied.

A faint smile touched his lips.

“Good point. Let me try again. Congratulations, Riley. You just earned yourself the meanest guard dog on the block.”

I managed to smile back.

“That’s exactly what I was hoping for.”