Chapter 8
Stella stayed in the hospital for another twenty-four hours before they released her. If the nurses and doctors had been shocked at her quick recovery, they didn’t show it. Devon had said he would “take care of everything,” and she wondered if he also managed to get them to stay quiet about her Lycan healing abilities.
She was still shocked herself at how fast her body knit itself back together. Aside from a few lingering bruises, she felt fit as a fiddle by the time she signed the discharge papers. She called her parents and told them she was okay and not to worry. They knew nothing about the kidnapping attempt—as far as they were concerned, Stella had been in an accident. While she hated lying to her parents, it was the story she, Devon and Charley had concocted in order to keep the authorities from asking too many questions. And if it stopped her parents from worrying too much, she was sure one little white lie was okay.
Now, she could go back home and get back to her normal life.
Well, almost.
There was the question of the tall, dark, and handsome broody man who was now her bodyguard.
Of all the people Charley and Devon could have sent to watch over her, why Cliff?
Surprise was too mild a word to describe how she’d felt when he barreled into her hospital room. She was shocked from the top of her head to the tips of her toes—and maybe, a small part of her was giddy too. He blustered in like an enraged avenging angel, wanting to know who hurt her and going berserk when he saw her bruises.
It was his job.
Disappointment surged through her—which was a good thing. It was obvious she was nothing more than a job to Cliff. She had to stop fantasizing about him and those sexy forearm muscles and his delicious coffee scent. Besides, how could someone like him even be attracted to her?
Mousy, timid Stella.
Goody-two-shoes, shy preacher’s daughter.
No one ever noticed her.
“Ready?” Cliff’s tall, hulking form practically filled the entire doorway of the hospital.
“Oh, hey. Um, yeah, I’m ready.”
“Car’s right outside.”
Cliff had stayed outside her room for the rest of her stay, though he did check in on her a couple of times when he thought she was sleeping. When the nurses informed her she was going to be discharged, he mumbled something about getting his car and waiting for her outside. She would have protested except she remembered her own car was totaled. A deputy had stopped by this morning to let her know they had found it and they were able retrieve her purse, but the car itself would have to be towed. Hopefully her insurance would pay for it, along with a rental.
She followed him outside toward the pickup truck waiting in the driveway. He opened the door for her, though she brushed away his offer of a hand and got in by herself.
Stella was thankful the radio was already in the middle of a podcast, so there was no need to talk. She didn’t even need to ask him if he wanted her address as he drove in the correct direction when they pulled out into the highway. But then again, he probably already knew everything about her since he was a professional bodyguard.
“Thanks,” she said when they stopped outside her house. “Good night.” She slipped out of the car before he could say anything. She had hoped he would drive away, but to her surprise, she heard the engine switch off, the door open, and footsteps following behind her.
She whirled around to face him. “Can I help you?”
He nodded at her door. “I’m gonna secure your home and the perimeter. Make sure everything’s safe.”
“Safe? This is my house, of course it’s safe.”
“Those guys found you pretty quick,” he pointed out. “You said you went home and were on your way to your parents’ home when they ran you off the road. They probably followed you from here.”
She opened her mouth to protest, then clamped it shut. “Fine.”
“Now, open your door and let me go inside first. I’ll let you know when it’s secure.”
Retrieving her keys from her pocket, she unlocked the door and did as he ordered. She stayed outside, and he emerged fifteen minutes later.
“Everything looks good. You can go in, and I’ll check the perimeter.”
She brushed past him without a word, though she did glare at his retreating back.
Pushy, bossy bully.
As soon as she entered her house, the familiar smell comforted her, though now there were traces of Cliff’s scent in the air. Apparently he’d checked everywhere because the scent lingered even in her bedroom. An ache formed low in her belly and between her thighs, imagining that same scent covering her bedsheets—and her.
Oh Lord.
Maybe God was punishing her—or testing her. Because the things she wanted Cliff to do to her—and her to him—would certainly earn her a place in hell.
Why did she have to want a man who didn’t want her back?
Sighing, she went to her bathroom and took a nice, hot, long shower and got into her pajamas. She’d been dreaming of this since she woke up in the hospital yesterday. Thankfully, Momma had brought her some clothes when she and Papa visited yesterday, but the sponge bath she got last night didn’t compare to the luxurious spray of her rainfall shower. She padded out so she could grab a snack in the kitchen when, to her surprise, she found Cliff sitting on her couch.
“What are you doing here?”
He leaned back. “What does it look like? I’m watching over you.”
“From in here?” The thought of having him inside her house was disconcerting.
“Yeah. Did you want me to stay outside?”
That didn’t quite sit well with her either. “Er, where do you usually stay when you’re working?”
“Depends on the client. Usually, I’d stay outside your door, but with your neighbors so close by?—”
“They’d see you,” she concluded. “So, you have to stay in here.”
“That’s the general idea.” He stood up. “Is there a problem?”
“Well … um …” She swallowed hard. She’d never had a man stay over in this house before. She wasn’t a prude or a virgin, but having him in here with only her bedroom door separating them didn’t seem appropriate.
Probably because she’d never be able to keep her own thoughts appropriate, knowing he was nearby.
Oh Lord, Jesus, Mary, whoever was listening—I think I need you now.
“I could sleep in the truck if you prefer.”
“No!” That protest came out way too fast, but she wasn’t going to let him be uncomfortable, not when she had the space. “There’s a spare room, right across from the master. You can stay there.”
“Thank you. Though I don’t sleep much anyway.”
“All right. Whatever you want. Good night.” Turning on her heel, she backtracked to her room, closed the door, and leaned back onto it with a sigh.
Lord help her, she needed to get her head on straight. Or maybe she needed to stop obsessing over a man who clearly had no interest in her. Shrugging, she marched to her bed and got under the covers.
The next day, Stella headed to the kitchen after she showered and dressed for work. To her surprise, Cliff was already up and he had two steaming cups of coffee on the counter. The sight of him looking so at home in her kitchen—barefoot and dressed only in a white Henley shirt and jeans—had her heart skipping a beat.
“I hope you don’t mind.” He nodded at the coffee machine.
“Not at all.” Trying to act nonchalant, she picked up one of the mugs. “Thanks.”
“Do you eat breakfast?”
“I’ll usually just have some toast, but”—she glanced up at the clock—“I’m running a bit late. And—oh, I forgot about my car.” She gave herself a mental note to call her insurance company today.
“I’ll take you to work,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”
Her insides melted at those words—don’t worry about it.
Because how many times had she wished she had someone who would take care of her? Someone who would have her back and come to her aid when she needed it?
Don’t be silly, she told herself as she took a sip of the rich, black coffee. This was his job. She was just a job to him. At worst—a favor he was doing for his sister.
“Thanks,” she murmured. “I’ll sort things out with my insurance and then maybe I can get a rental.”
He didn’t say anything, though he grabbed a to-go cup from the cupboard—how he even knew where they were, she didn’t know—took the mug from her hand and poured it in. “Here. Since you’re running late.”
She followed him out the door and to the truck. Again, he opened the door for her before he got into the driver’s side. Traffic was light, and they arrived at Crestholm with just enough time for Stella to make it to her class.
However, as she breezed into the main building, as bad luck would have it, Tyler was right on the other side of the door. “Stella! How was your weekend? And—who’re you?”
“Huh?”
Oh Lord.
She’d been in such a hurry that she jumped out of the truck and forgot about Cliff, who apparently had followed her all the way inside. “He’s my uh …”
“Bodyguard,” he supplied.
“Bodyguard?” Tyler let out a nervous laugh. “Really? Stella, if you’re trying to sneak in one of your boyfriends?—”
“He’s not a boyfriend,” she said flatly. Though she wished she had thought of a better excuse.
“Hmm, you look familiar,” Tyler said, eyes narrowing at Cliff. “Have we met before?”
“What’s going on here, Ms. Lennon? Mr. Keller?” came an authoritative voice from behind.
Stella cringed. Lord, could my day get any worse?
“Well?”
“Headmaster Osmond.” Stella pasted the fakest smile she could put on her face as she turned to her boss. “Good morning, how are you today?”
The stodgy old man’s white eyebrows waggled as he peered up at Cliff. “Who is this man?”
“Ms. Lennon’s bodyguard,” Tyler guffawed. “Apparently.”
“Well, I don’t care if he’s Secret Service, he can’t be in here.”
“What?” Cliff protested. “I need to do my job?—”
“And I must do mine,” Osmond interrupted.
Cliff crossed his arms over his chest. “Someone’s trying to harm Stella. I’m here to keep her safe.”
“Harm you?” Tyler asked. “What does he mean?”
“Nothing.” She glared meaningfully at Cliff. “I mean, it’s just some silly misunderstanding.”
“Someone tried to kidnap her,” Cliff continued. “And her brother hired?—”
“Parents!” Stella quickly interjected. “My, er, parents hired him to watch over me.”
“It was that video, wasn’t it?” Tyler snapped his fingers. “You have a stalker now or something?”
“Er, yeah. Something like that.”
The headmaster harrumphed. “That video … I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that, Ms. Lennon.”
She groaned inwardly. “Yes, I suppose you do.”
“Come to my office after dismissal.” He glanced up furiously at Cliff. “Ms. Lennon, may I remind you, it is our duty to keep the students here at Crestholm safe and secure.”
“What do you mean, safe?” Cliff’s voice boomed down the hallway.
“I’m sorry, headmaster, I’ll take care of this. Cliff,” she pleaded. “You should wait outside.”
“But—”
“Please, this is my job. I’ll be fine in here.”
Cliff’s jaw hardened. “I’ll see you at three.”
“She’s safe in here,” Tyler said. “We take care of our own.”
If looks could kill, Tyler would have dropped dead at the intense death stare Cliff had sent him.
“Um, I’m going to be late for class. I should go.” With that, she scampered away from the two men.
Dread filled Stella the whole day as she watched the clock, waiting for the dismissal bell. When she made that video, she had no idea that it would turn her world upside-down. She only wanted to find her sister, not have deranged stalkers trying to kidnap her. Or put her career at risk.
Teachers employed at Crestholm signed a morality clause in their contracts, not to mention that anything that disrupted academics was severely frowned upon. Last year, a teacher had posted pictures of herself in a bikini on her own private social media channel that a couple of students somehow got access to. The pictures were shared around the school, and a few of the parents found out and complained, which led to her being asked to resign.
What if some parents saw her video?
Or what if it came out she was a Lycan?
The bell at the end of last period portended Stella’s doom. She dragged her feet all the way to the headmaster’s office, though that didn’t help. As if it wasn’t bad enough, Osmond’s secretary told her to go inside the office as soon as she arrived, so it was obvious the headmaster was ready to give her a reprimand.
“Ms. Lennon,” Osmond began as she sat down and greeted him. “I’ll get straight to the point?—”
Stella braced herself.
“I want you to know I don’t want any legal trouble, so we will not speak of the video without any of our legal representatives present. However, may I remind you that if the video directly causes any disruptions that hinder your duties as a teacher, then we will have more formal talks.”
“I’m sorry—what?” She stared at him in disbelief. “What do you mean ‘legal trouble’?”
“No need to play coy, Ms. Lennon.” Osmond’s nostrils flared. “I spoke with your attorney, Harry Owens, who said that if I tried to dismiss you because you made that video asking for help, I would have a big messy lawsuit on my hands.”
Her jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Harry Owens called Osmond? But how?
“However, if things escalate, and if there are any major disruptions?—”
“I promise, I won’t make any more videos or cause trouble.”
He harrumphed. “You still can’t have your bodyguard in here.”
“I know. Can I go now?”
“You may.”
Relief sluiced through her. “Thank you, headmaster. Have a good evening.”
He waved her away and grumbled back a response, which Stella didn’t care to decipher—she was too happy that her job was safe. She was practically skipping as she made her way out to the parking lot.
“Things went well, I hope?” Cliff asked as she approached the truck.
“Yes, and—hey, how did you know?” A thought popped into her head. “Did you call Harry Owens?”
“No.” He snorted, then opened the door for her. “But I did tell Devon. He said he’d take care of it.”
Cliff told Devon about this morning? “But why?”
He shrugged. “Didn’t like the way he spoke to you.”
“Still, you didn’t have to do that.”
“You seem to like your job. I didn’t want to cause trouble.”
“Didn’t …” She sucked in a breath.
Cliff had done this for her.
Because he didn’t want her to lose the job she loved.
Oh Lord help her, her toes were practically curling inside her shoes.
“Do you mind?” He gestured inside the truck.
“Wha—oh yeah. Thanks.” This time, she took the hand he offered even though she was capable of getting herself into the cab. The little shock of electricity as their bare hands touched made her shiver.
“So, do you want to get dinner?” she asked out of the blue when he slipped into the driver’s seat.
“Excuse me?”
“Well, you have to eat, right? Unfortunately, I didn’t get to do any grocery shopping this weekend, so I don’t have ingredients to cook. What do you usually do for dinner?”
“I eat out. Or get takeout.”
“Oh, I see.”
He started the engine. “Any good Chinese around here?”
“Yeah, there’s one on the way home. We can stop there, I guess.”
He grunted a response, then put the truck into gear.
The silence between them was a little less awkward now, and later that evening, as they ate their takeout on her kitchen table, they even shared some small talk.
“So why did you stop playing the piano?” she asked.
“I wasn’t very good at it,” he said with a chuckle.
“You were seven. And your mom didn’t seem the type to expect you to be a prodigy.”
“I know, and I’m glad.” He scooped more rice from the box and onto his plate. “It just wasn’t my thing, you know? I supposed I liked it enough that my mom didn’t have to drag me to my piano teacher kicking and screaming. But then I went to my first judo lesson, and it all just clicked. That was what I wanted.”
“Judo?”
“Yeah. Then karate and jujitsu … all I wanted was to turn pro, and I did.”
“Pro? Like, being a professional fighter?”
“Yeah. Like an MMA fighter and—” His mouth clamped shut.
“I didn’t realize you fought in the ring. Were you any good?” She had meant that last sentence as a joke, but from the dark expression on his face, he obviously didn’t take it as such. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean?—”
“It’s fine.” He shoveled more food into his mouth, then chewed a few times before swallowing. “Thanks for the dinner. I can have the office reimburse you for my share.”
“That’s not?—”
The chair scraping across the tile floor cut her off as he got up. Trudging over to the sink, he dumped the rest of his food in the trash and began to wash his dishes.
“You don’t have to do that.”
He seemingly ignored her as he continued the task, and she could only stare at his back as he refused to speak. As her heart sank at his chilly demeanor, something inside her withered in disappointment.
Was that … my wolf?
A sad yowl rang in her ears.
That was definitely her wolf. She just knew it. It was sad, too, that Cliff was once again ignoring them.
Well, no more of this.
She was tired of this hot-and-cold demeanor from him. It only served to get her hopes up and take down her defenses before he would inevitably remind her that she was nothing more than a job to him.
And she was sick of it.
Now she just had to ignore him or find something—or someone else—to distract her.