Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
MALIK
T he moment I saw her standing next to Sage in Bean & Bloom, something shifted in my chest. A recognition. A warning. A fucking problem.
Melody Washington is exactly the kind of woman I avoid. Young. Beautiful. Vulnerable. And my daughter's best friend, which makes her completely off-limits.
I drive toward Club Crimson with my hands gripping the steering wheel too tight, trying to shake the image of those wide brown eyes and soft curves hidden beneath that oversized sweater.
The mountain roads demand my attention, winding through thick forests that shield Crimson Hollow from the outside world.
Just like I need to shield myself from thoughts of Melody.
"Focus, Harris," I mutter, downshifting as I take a curve.
Club Crimson sits at the edge of the Kane brothers' property, an imposing structure of glass and timber that houses both the public wellness retreat and the private members-only BDSM club.
As part of the security team, I've helped make this place a sanctuary where people can safely explore their deepest desires.
Where consent and boundaries are sacred.
The irony isn't lost on me that I'm struggling with my own boundaries at the moment.
I park in my reserved space and head inside through the staff entrance. The morning crew is already prepping for the day's wellness retreat guests, the front that allows Club Crimson to exist in a small town like this.
"Morning, Malik," Noah Kane calls from behind the reception desk. At thirty-eight, he's one of the younger Kane brothers and co-owner of the club. "You're early."
"New security protocols to review with Jake," I say, swiping my badge at the door leading to the administrative offices. "And I need to update the guest cabin systems."
"For Sage's friend, right?" Noah follows me into the corridor. "Heard she's taking over at the high school."
Small towns. News travels faster than light.
"Yes," I respond, keeping my tone neutral. "She's staying until she finds her own place."
Noah leans against the wall, arms crossed. "Generous offer."
I turn to face him fully. "Something you want to say, Kane?"
He holds up his hands. "Just making conversation. Though I will say, if she's half as pretty as Sage described when they were setting up the job with Jordyn, you might want to reinforce your own defenses, not just the cabin's."
My jaw tightens. "She's my daughter's age."
"And?" Noah raises an eyebrow. "Age gaps happen, Harris. Especially in our lifestyle."
"She's not in our lifestyle," I say firmly. "She's a teacher starting a new job. And my daughter's best friend."
"Understood." Noah pushes off the wall. "Security meeting at three. Don't be late."
After he leaves, I find a quiet corner to collect myself.
Noah hit too close to home, which pisses me off.
I've spent twenty years building a life of control and discipline after Sage's mother left.
Raised my daughter alone, built my security career, earned my place in this community, and at Club Crimson. I don't lose control. Not for anyone.
Yet one look at Melody Washington had my dominant instincts roaring to life. The need to protect. To possess.
"Fuck," I mutter, rubbing a hand over my face.
My phone buzzes with a text from Sage:
Sage: Dad, added Melody to your emergency contacts list. Just in case. She's still jumpy after everything with Jason.
Jason. The name of the man who hurt her. I didn't get details from Sage, just enough to know Melody came to Crimson Hollow running from something. Someone.
I text back.
Me: Smart. Cabin will be ready tonight.
I spend the afternoon reviewing security protocols with Jake Winters, our head of security, both for the club and remotely for the guest cabin. By evening, we've installed new camera systems, reinforced locks, and set up alerts that will ping my phone if anyone approaches the property.
It's after nine when I finish the meeting with the night security team. I'm heading to my truck when my phone pings with a location alert from one of our staff.
Unknown vehicle circling parking lot. Driver asking about new teacher in town. Sending photo.
The image shows a black sedan with Ontario plates. I immediately dial Sage.
"Dad? What's up?"
"Where's Melody?"
Sage's voice sharpens. "She wanted to explore on her own for a bit. Said she was going to check out that new place that opened where the old ski lodge was. Forbidden Chains? Why?"
"Someone's asking about her. Ontario plates." I'm already changing direction, heading toward my Jeep. "Stay at your place, door locked. I'll find her."
"Dad, wait?—"
I hang up and peel out of the parking lot.
Forbidden Chains is the new upscale BDSM club that opened last month, catering to tourists and wannabes.
Not a real scene establishment like Club Crimson, but a place for people to dip their toes into the lifestyle.
The Kane brothers have been keeping an eye on it, making sure they're following proper safety protocols.
The fact that Melody went there on her own sets off every protective instinct I have.
I make the drive in record time, parking in the crowded lot and scanning for Ontario plates. No sign of the black sedan. I barge my way past the line, nodding to the bouncer who recognizes me from Club Crimson.
"Harris," he acknowledges. "Didn't expect to see you here."
"Looking for someone," I reply curtly, stepping into the dimly lit interior.
Forbidden Chains aims for the aesthetic of a kink club without the true ethos. Red velvet booths line the walls, while demonstration areas show carefully choreographed scenes for the gawking crowd. The bar serves overpriced cocktails with names like "Safe Word" and "Surrender."
I scan the space, searching for Melody among the bodies packed onto the dance floor and around the demonstration platforms. The music thrums, bass vibrating through the floor as I push through the crowd.
Then I spot her at the bar, and my blood runs cold.
Melody sits perched on a barstool, wearing a simple black dress that hugs curves her oversized sweater had hidden. Her hair falls in loose waves around her shoulders. She looks beautiful. And uncomfortable.
A man stands too close, one hand braced on the bar behind her, effectively trapping her. Even from here, I can see the tension in her shoulders, the polite but strained smile as she leans away from him.
I move without thinking, cutting through the crowd with purpose. As I approach, I catch fragments of their conversation.
"—just one drink," the man insists. He's younger than me but older than Melody, dressed expensively with the confident entitlement of someone used to getting his way. "I know you're new in town. I could show you around."
"I appreciate the offer, but I'm actually waiting for someone," Melody replies, her voice firm but with an undercurrent of nervousness.
"I don't see anyone," he presses, leaning closer. "Come on, beautiful. Don't be like that."
I'm about to intervene when Melody's eyes find mine over the man's shoulder. Relief flashes across her face, followed by something else.
"There he is now," she says, voice suddenly stronger. She slips from the barstool and ducks under the man's arm, moving toward me with purpose. "My fiancé."
The word hits me like a physical blow, but I don't miss a beat. I wrap an arm around her waist as she reaches me, pulling her close to my side. Her body fits perfectly against mine, soft and warm.
"Everything okay here, sweetheart?" I ask, my eyes never leaving her face.
Melody presses closer, her hand coming to rest on my chest. "Everything's fine now that you're here, babe. This gentleman was just keeping me company."
I shift my gaze to the man, letting my expression harden. "Appreciate the thought, but I've got it from here."
The man looks between us, disbelief evident. "Fiancé? Seriously?"
"Is there a problem?" I ask, my tone dropping to a register I usually reserve for security threats.
He backs up a step, hands raising slightly. "No problem. Didn't realize she was taken."
"Well, now you do." I keep my arm firmly around Melody's waist, feeling the slight tremor running through her body.
The man mutters something under his breath and disappears into the crowd. Only then do I look down at Melody, whose eyes are wide with a mixture of relief and anxiety.
"I'm so sorry," she whispers, low enough that only I can hear. "I panicked. He wouldn't leave me alone, and then I saw you and just... I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize," I tell her, leading her toward a quieter corner. "Are you okay?"
She nods, but I can feel her still shaking. "I thought... I wanted to see what this place was about. Then that guy started... and he reminded me of..." She trails off, eyes darting toward the exit.
"Jason?" I ask quietly.
Surprise flashes across her face. "Sage told you?"
"Only that you needed a safe place." I keep my voice gentle despite the rage building inside me. "Let's get you out of here."
As we move toward the exit, I spot a man watching us from near the door. Black jacket, cap pulled low, but I catch the Ontario plates keychain hanging from his belt. My instincts flare.
"Change of plans," I murmur, changing our direction toward the VIP area. I nod to the security guard, who recognizes me and lets us through.
"What's wrong?" Melody asks, picking up on the tension in my body.
"Possibly nothing," I reply, guiding her to a private booth. "But I'd rather be safe. There's someone from Ontario who's been asking about the new teacher in town."
Her face drains of color. "Jason? Here? How would he know?—"
"We don't know it's him," I say firmly, though I'm already texting Jake to send additional security. "But we're not taking chances."
Melody's hands clench into fists on the table. "I can't believe this. I just wanted one night out. To feel normal."
"Look at me," I say, waiting until her eyes meet mine. "You're safe. I won't let anyone hurt you."
She holds my gaze, vulnerability and strength battling in her expression. "You barely know me."
"You're Sage's best friend," I respond simply. "That's all I need to know."
A server approaches our table. "What can I get for you and your fiancée, sir?"
Before I can correct him, Melody's hand covers mine on the table. "I'll have a gin and tonic," she says, her fingers intertwining with mine in a clear message to play along. "And my fiancé will have bourbon. Neat."
"Coming right up," the server says with a smile.
When he leaves, Melody doesn't release my hand. "Just until we're sure it's safe," she says quietly. "Please?"
Something protective and possessive uncurls in my chest. "Whatever you need."
Her answering smile makes my heart rate kick up. I'm in dangerous territory. But as Melody's thumb traces small circles on my palm, I can't bring myself to pull away.
"Thank you," she whispers. "For playing along. For finding me."
"Always," I reply before I can stop myself.
That’s a promise I have no business making but can't seem to take back as her eyes hold mine across the table.
My phone buzzes with a text from Jake.
Jake: Security in place. Safe to move her to the cabin whenever you're ready.
I text back one-handed, unwilling to break contact with Melody.
Me: En route in 15.
Tonight is about getting her safely to the cabin. Tomorrow I'll deal with the complication of being her fake fiancé. And the even bigger complication of wanting it to be real.