Chapter Nine #2
“Excuse me for forgetting,” she snapped. “In case you don’t remember, we were almost human roadkill last night. My brain had other things to think about.”
Kayne’s jaw flexed. “Name?”
“I didn’t catch it. Tallish, dark hair, late twenties maybe. No name tag. And he kept smiling like he knew me and was amused. At me.”
Kayne muttered something in Cajun under his breath. “What else?” he pressed.
Chloe twisted her fingers, nerves prickling. “He said he’d been watching the progress and it was nice how hands-on I was.” Her stomach knotted at the memory. “But the way he said it didn’t sound complimentary.”
Kayne went still. Absolutely, terrifyingly still.
“Did he touch you?” he asked, too calm.
“No! Just stood too close. And then,” she bit her lip, “he said I shouldn’t be the last one here. Ever.”
Kayne rose to his full height, blocking out half the hallway lights. The shift was instinctive and physical, positioning himself between her and a threat that wasn’t even present. That warm tendril of safety unfurled in her belly before she could stop it.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“Because nothing happened. And I didn’t want to overreact. Maybe he was just socially awkward.”
“Or he was testing boundaries,” Kayne said, voice sharp. “Seeing how close he can get, or if you scare easily.”
Her breath hitched. “Do you really think that?”
“I think men don’t accidentally act predatory, Chloe. And you already have a stalker. Any strange man who decides to get familiar with you at work jumps straight to the top of my problems list.”
Despite the worry twisting her insides, she smiled, though it was a small, shaky thing. “You have a problems list?”
“Yeah.” He stepped closer, entering her space in the opposite way from the man yesterday. He was being protective. “And you’re the whole damn thing.”
Heat flared through her body at the way he said it, stripped of the teasing he usually wielded like armor.
Kayne touched her arm lightly. “Next time somebody makes you uncomfortable, you call me. Understand? I don’t care if it’s something or nothing. You call.”
“Okay,” she murmured.
“I mean it.”
She looked up at the rigid line of his jaw, worry tucked behind those mossy eyes. “I didn’t want to bother you.”
His laugh was incredulous, as if she’d told him water wasn’t wet. “Cher, protecting you is not a bother. It’s the job.”
But the way he said job made it sound like something else entirely. Something bigger and riskier for both of them.
Chloe swallowed, suddenly too aware of how close they were. “He just made me uncomfortable. That’s all.”
“That’s enough.” Kayne’s fingers brushed her elbow gently. “I’ll talk to the foreman. Get a roster. We’ll ID him.”
“We?”
Kayne’s smile turned dangerous. “Did you think I was letting you handle this alone?”
“No,” she admitted softly. “I guess I didn’t.”
Kayne studied her for another beat, making sure she felt his promise, not just heard it. Then he stepped back, the tension easing but not disappearing.
“All right, let’s go find this jackass.”
Chloe realized, not for the first time, that Kayne in protector mode made the whole world feel a hell of a lot less terrifying.
And maybe just a little too tempting.
#
Kayne spotted the foreman near the stacks of lumber, barking orders at two guys unloading a pallet. The man had barely set his clipboard down before Kayne stepped into his path.
“I need a word,” Kayne said.
Foreman Hal blinked up at him, probably wondering what Chloe’s boyfriend wanted. “Uh, sure. Something wrong, Mr. Serruto?”
Kayne tipped his head toward the back corridor. “Let’s take a walk.”
Hal obeyed instantly, because what sane person wouldn’t when a six-foot-five Cajun with homicidal energy told them to?
They moved into a quiet stretch of framing and dust. Kayne stopped, folded his arms, and stared him down with an expression that had prompted more than one grown man to reevaluate their entire life trajectory.
“I want a full list of every crew member,” Kayne told him. “Temps, subs, day labor, everyone.”
Hal frowned. “Okay.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled. “We’ve got nine on site today. Who am I looking for?”
“Tall, dark hair, late twenties,” Kayne said. “Possibly new.”
Recognition dawned on Hal’s face, followed by a long sigh. “Ah. That sounds like Joel Erickson.”
Kayne’s jaw flexed. “What do you know about him?”
Hal looked sheepish. “Not much. He is new, only been here about a week, but he’s a hard worker.”
Kayne almost applauded the diplomacy. Almost. “His background?”
Hal grimaced. “He said he was starting fresh. He has construction experience, and we’re short-handed, so I gave him a chance.”
Kayne did not appreciate “fresh starts,” “second chances,” or any phrase that typically appeared on mugshots. “Do you have his contact information?”
Hal tapped the screen and handed his phone over.
Kayne skimmed the file, snapped a picture, and returned it.
“Did he mention speaking with Ms. Giordano yesterday?”
Hal’s head jerked up. “He did what?”
“Stepped into her space,” Kayne said evenly. “Suggested she not wander around alone.”
Hal cursed loudly enough that two workers nearby paused mid-hammer. “I’ll pull him off-site.”
“No.” Kayne lifted one hand, his voice dropping dangerously. “I’ll handle him. You manage the rest of your crew.”
Hal seemed to understand that arguing would be hazardous to his health. He nodded rapidly, possibly reconsidering every hiring decision he had ever made. “Erickson should be in the back supply room past the locker rooms. He’s supposed to be sorting conduit.”
Kayne started to walk off, then turned. “One more thing. What vehicle does he drive?”
“Beat-up red Chevy truck.”
Not a black sedan. It was one problem sorted, but another was incoming. “Thanks.”
Kayne fired off a text to Tyler Redmond, CObrA Securities’ tech genius, caffeine addict, and unofficial hacker lord, with Erickson’s information, asking for a background check. Not two minutes later, his phone chimed. Kayne shook his head. Tyler was ridiculous in the best way.
Two incident reports popped up: Domestic disturbance with an ex-girlfriend and
harassment complaint from the same woman. Both were closed, and the victim refused to press charges.
A cold knot formed low in Kayne’s gut. It was a pattern. If he’d harassed a woman before, there was a good chance he would do so again.
He found Joel exactly where Hal said he would be, sitting on a bucket and scrolling on his phone as if work was a theoretical concept.
Joel looked up. His expression shifted instantly to wariness, guilt, then the dawning realization that he’d poked the wrong animal.
Kayne shut the door behind him.
Joel cleared his throat. “Uh, can I help you?”
“Joel Erickson?”
“Who wants to know?”
Kayne stepped closer. “You had a conversation with Ms. Giordano yesterday.”
Joel’s Adam’s apple bobbed as if he were trying to swallow fear. “Just being friendly.”
Kayne smiled. He was sure it wasn’t a pretty sight. “That what you call friendly? Invading her space? Asking if she works alone at night?”
Joel’s face flushed. “Look, man, I wasn’t stirring up trouble. I was making small talk with a beautiful woman. It’s been a rough couple of years. I’m just trying to get my life back on track.”
“Yeah?” Kayne tilted his head. “That what you told the police about your domestic disturbance and harassment complaint?”
Joel froze. “How do you know about that? Are you a cop?”
“No.”
When he didn’t say anything else, Joel sighed. “They were misunderstandings and charges were never filed. My ex was—”
Kayne stepped closer. “Choose your next words carefully. They decide whether we talk or I drag you outta here by the balls.”
Joel shut his mouth with an audible click.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Kayne told him. “You do not talk to Ms. Giordano. You do not look at Ms. Giordano. If she walks into a room, you walk out.”
Joel swallowed. “I wasn’t—”
“You were,” Kayne cut in. “And you’re done. One more misstep, one more comment, one more inch into her space, and I will personally escort your ass off this site so fast the windburn will teach you manners.”
Joel’s eyes darted away. “I get it. I get it, okay?”
Kayne stared at him a second longer, letting the seriousness sink deep. Then he stepped back, opened the door, and said, “Get to work. And stay away from her.”
Joel nodded, knowing better than to test fate twice.
Kayne walked away, muscles clenched, pulse steady, heart doing something it had absolutely no business doing. If anyone with bad intentions thought they were getting close to Chloe, they were about to learn a very important lesson.
Kayne did not tolerate danger circling his girl. Not for a second. Not from anyone. Not ever.
#
Chloe balanced her tablet against her hip as she walked the length of the unfinished space, mentally ticking off equipment placements and power outlet needs. The construction noise should’ve made it easy to focus. It usually did.
But today something prickled along her skin, the faintest electric buzz under her ribs.
A quiet, persistent awareness that she couldn’t shake.
That tiny, instinctive alarm bell inside her head wouldn’t stop humming.
She told herself she was imagining it, just leftover unease from her conversation with Kayne. Certainly nothing worth worrying over.
She glanced over her shoulder anyway.
Everything looked normal. Just workers hauling plywood, someone using a nail gun, Hal arguing with an electrician who looked seconds from throwing him out a window.
She exhaled, turned toward the corner where she wanted the kettlebell rack installed, and froze.
Across the room, half-hidden behind a stack of insulation rolls, the construction worker from yesterday’s confrontation stood watching her.
He wasn’t working or moving. He was just watching.
His posture looked casual at first glance, but the tilt of his head, the way his eyes tracked her every shift, turned her stomach into a tight, sick knot.
There was no wave or nod. He didn’t pretend to be doing anything else but stare at her.
Something icy whispered down her spine. Kayne’s voice echoed in her mind: If he makes you uncomfortable again, you call me.
Chloe swallowed. She didn’t want to overreact, or seem dramatic, or get a man fired. She wanted to be a reasonable, rational adult. Except her pulse was thudding in her throat, loud enough to drown out the buzzsaw two feet away.
She pretended to check her tablet, angling her body subtly so she could watch him in her peripheral vision. He still didn’t move. Simply stood there as if she owed him something.
A chill skated through her.
He knew she’d seen him. She felt it in her bones.
She turned toward the opposite wall, trying to appear uninterested and professional, but every nerve ending screamed to look again.
She didn’t get the chance.
Strong, confident footsteps approached, and then Kayne was suddenly beside her, one hand resting lightly on the small of her back. The touch wasn’t possessive, but it was wildly, unfairly effective.
“What’s wrong?”
She tried for casual. “Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me, Chloe. Your back is as stiff as steel.” A pause. “The angry kind, not the sexy gym-equipment kind.”
Despite everything, her mouth twitched. “I thought I saw the construction worker from yesterday,” she admitted.
“Which direction?”
“Behind the insulation rolls. Far wall.”
Kayne didn’t turn. Didn’t even shift. To anyone else, he looked like a guy casually surveying the room. But Chloe felt the tension hum through him, coiled and ready.
“His name is Joel Erickson. He’s not there now,” Kayne said. “He’s been warned, and he knows better, but I will keep a closer eye on him.”
The knot in her stomach loosened a fraction, but it was enough to matter.
Chloe didn’t know what warned meant exactly, but the way Kayne said it painted a very specific mental image. One involving Joel regretting his decision to take this job.
Relief washed over her because Kayne was here, with his hand warm and steady on her back, solid as a promise he had no intention of breaking.
Joel might have been watching her, but Kayne? Kayne was watching everything.
And Joel was done scaring her.