Chapter 4 #2
“Knowing a few self-defense moves and how to shoot a gun doesn’t mean—”
“I’m fine,” Rory cut off her brother and rose. She’d tied her hair back in a ponytail after her shower. Her skin was clean of makeup, only anger adding a natural blush to her cheeks. “And I’m sorry, Chris, but I can’t train your dog.”
Chris had filled Jesse in about Bear and his request for Rory to move to Virginia for a few weeks, preferably longer, while she’d still been asleep after they’d returned from their little chat with her idiot neighbor.
Jesse wasn’t a fan of Rory living alone in this house, he’d been against the idea from day one, but he didn’t seem too keen on the idea of her temporarily bunking with Chris and his dog, either.
Chris wondered how much of their earlier conversation Rory remembered. Did she recall admitting she was potentially in danger just before growing sick?
Rory folded her arms across her chest. She’d changed into a white, long-sleeved shirt and black leggings that went to her calves.
He hadn’t focused on the shape of her long legs because he’d been too worried about her, plus her brother was in the room, but he couldn’t seem to not notice the curve of her ass in those stretchy black things.
But when he swung his gaze toward Jesse, Jesse was glowering at him as if he noticed Chris checking her out, and shit, he needed her brother on his side.
“Aren’t you supposed to be having dinner with your service buddy?” Rory’s gaze volleyed back and forth between the two of them. “And Ella mentioned the other night y’all are throwing a post-wedding party for A.J. and Ana, so maybe you ought to head back, so you don’t miss it.”
“There’s time.” Chris wasn’t ready to leave. Not without her. Not with her safety on the line. It wasn’t in his DNA to turn his back on a woman in need, even if the woman was strong and stubborn.
“And if I leave, who’s going to keep you from taking candy from a stranger next?” Jesse prompted. Chris bit his lip and tried not to laugh. Jesse was exercising his right as a protective big brother to act like a jerk, which would probably earn anyone else a slap on the face.
“Real funny.” She uncrossed her arms and waved him away. “Go. If you’re really here to visit with your friend and not because you ran away from Ella, then I don’t want you to be late.”
Jesse’s mouth opened before he clamped his jaw tight.
Ah, the guy still hadn’t made a move on A.J.’s sister, had he?
“Go,” Rory said again. “I’ll take care of him next.”
Jesse faced Chris, brows pulled together. A warning in his eyes to keep Rory safe, as well as not to hurt her. Message received.
“I won’t be late.” Jesse grabbed his truck keys and left.
Silence filled the room, so Chris tucked his hands into his back pockets and waited for Rory to make the next move, to see exactly how she planned to “take care of him.”
“What do you like to eat? Got anything frozen I can whip up?” he asked when her mouth remained stubbornly closed, her eyes on the wood floors beneath her bright red toenails.
“I doubt I can eat anything right now.”
He walked past her and headed for the large kitchen, which was similar in style to the living room.
Bright white cabinets and backsplash. The décor was made up of soft blues and hints of yellow and orange, livening up the place.
His mom would have loved a place like this.
Maybe she would have stayed with his dad if he’d been able to give her everything she’d wanted.
He grimaced at the thought and shook it free from his mind.
“I fixed your sink while you were sleeping.”
“Thank you, but I’m horribly embarrassed about what happened earlier.” She entered the kitchen and set a palm onto the granite kitchen island at the center of the space. “Also, I’m sticking to my answer of no about the job.”
He opened the freezer and searched for something to make. He sorely lacked culinary skills. “Ravioli?” he asked when retrieving a bag. “And your first answer was no,” he added casually, “but your second was yes.”
“I didn’t say yes.” Her lovely eyes pinned to his when he faced her. But her walls were back up, the ones the brownies had inadvertently lowered when he’d first arrived.
“Did you forget what you told me just before you got sick?”
“I must have.” She looked away.
“Sure,” he said with a smile, and his words had her hazel eyes landing back on him.
“Did you tell Jesse?” She lifted her hand from the island and took a step his way.
He set the bag of goat cheese ravioli on the counter and maneuvered around the island to stand in front of her.
“A.J.?” she asked, nerves or fear probably the cause of that line between her brow.
So, her brother and A.J. didn’t know. He figured as much.
“No, I didn’t tell them.” Just Harper.
Her shoulders relaxed. “Whatever I said to you, can you forget it?”
“And what was it that you said to me?” His hand splayed atop the island, and he leaned in closer to her.
His eyes dropped to her mouth, and he had no control over the dirty thoughts that zipped through his mind as he studied her lips, rounded and poised to speak, the words hanging there.
But she didn’t seem in the mood to share.
“You’re going to be a problem, aren’t you?” she whispered as his attention moved back to her eyes, the pupils now back to normal. He hadn’t spent much time around people on drugs, but he probably should have noticed her pupils had nearly eclipsed the hazel color earlier.
“If wanting to help you makes me a problem, then I guess so,” he answered as honestly as possible.
“I thought you came here because you needed my help.”
He lifted one shoulder. The smell of coconut soap struck him now that they were so close. “Looks like we both need each other,” he said, remembering Elaina’s words. Or were they a warning? He wasn’t so sure.
Her tongue skirted the line between her lips, a tantalizing sight to see. Maybe she’d be the one causing him trouble, not the other way around.
“Come to Virginia with me,” he said, his voice low and deep. A request that probably came across like a command to her. But it was fear for her safety, along with the desire to get to know her more, that had deepened his tone.
She started to turn away, but he circled a hand around her waist, and she halted. A twist of her head and lift of her chin brought her eyes back to his.
“Don’t answer me now. I don’t need to be back until tomorrow. That gives me tonight.”
“Tonight to change my mind?” she asked with amusement in her tone.
He angled his head, maintaining his light grip on her.
“And if I still say no by the end of the night, will you accept my answer and go back home? Never mention what I said to you earlier to anyone?”
“I get that you’re trying to protect your family and friends. And I believe that the threats to your life and theirs are real and not to be taken lightly,” he began, keeping his voice steady, “but why not let someone protect you?”
Indecision warred in the lines of her face. “And that person . . . you think it should be you?”
“It doesn’t have to be.” He wanted it to be, but if she’d open up to her brother, or A.J.
—well, as long as someone he trusted helped her, that was all that mattered.
He wouldn’t be selfish and insist on claiming that spot, considering he was practically a stranger.
“But I’d like to be that guy.” He brought the back of his free hand to her cheek, and she leaned into his touch.
“Because you need me, too,” Rory whispered, eyes dropping closed.
He swallowed and nodded, even though she couldn’t see his answer. But he realized he did need her, and Elaina was right for reasons he didn’t understand yet.
“For Bear, I mean,” she corrected and opened her lids.
“For Bear,” he answered, his voice hoarse with unexpected emotion. “I’ll totally screw up his training without you.”
“And if I tell you not to let him sleep in your bed, you’ll listen to me?”
Could he be a total ass and ask her to sleep in his bed instead? No, it was best not to let his dick do the talking. “I’ll do whatever you tell me,” he promised and released her.
Her lip pulled at the side, catching between her teeth. “I don’t know, but I’ll give you dinner to try and win me over.”
“Just dinner?” He smiled.
“You need more time than that?” she challenged.
God, he liked this woman. “No, ma’am.” He continued to grin like an idiot. “Dinner’s more than enough time.”
“What are you doing?” she asked when he placed the ravioli back in the freezer.
“Finding something that takes a lot longer to cook.”
The soft sound of her chuckle had him tossing a look back at her from over his shoulder.
She had both elbows on the island, her chin situated on one palm as she observed him. And oh, she was checking out his ass.
Her cheeks blossomed pink when she lifted her eyes to discover he’d caught her.
“McKenna was right.” She wet her lips.
“A.J.’s niece?” he asked for clarification, then released the door to the fridge and faced her, and she nodded. “About what?”
“Nothing.” A lazy smile met her lips as she stood upright, pulled her hair free from the ponytail, and shook her locks, allowing her wavy blonde hair to brush the tops of her breasts. Her hair color was two shades of blonde—a bit lighter on the bottom and more golden-hued on top.
Her nose was straight. Lips full. Her summer tan still clung to her skin.
She reminded him a little of that Australian actress, Teresa-something, that he liked in the movie Hacksaw Ridge.
That World War II film had been hard to watch, but Chris always pushed himself outside of his comfort zone.
That was who he was. The kind of man he tried to be.
But combat movies . . . watching those had him waking up in a cold sweat with his gun in hand, no idea when or how he grabbed hold of it from under the bed.
He was proud to be military, and he loved his life, but serving in the Iraq War was different than what he did now, and for some reason, movies had a weird way of triggering him.
Nobody on Bravo or Echo knew that about him. And they never would. He’d made a name for himself as being the carefree, fun guy. And he was that guy. Most of the time. He just did his best to hide the other side when necessary.
But he had to face his fears, like he was now, by seeking Rory out to see if the connection he thought he’d felt in Alabama, even though it scared him, was real.
“You okay?” Rory was standing before him, eyes narrowed. When did she get there?
And was he really just standing in front of the fridge with the door open? He didn’t remember opening it back up again. He’d been taking in her beauty and—
“Hey.” Her palm went to his cheek. Her touch was soft.
“Sorry, dazed out.”
“That happen often?”
“Only under stress.” Never during the stress of an op, which was ironic, but also fortunate.
Her mouth softened, the hard line loosening. “Do I stress you out?”
You being in danger does. “No, my thoughts got away from me.” He forced the knot down his throat as she stepped back, her hand leaving his face. “I’m solid.” He smiled. “So, dinner. Dinner. What can I make for dinner?”