Chapter Twenty-One
Lochlan
“ I don’t get it.”
“What do you mean?” She looks so genuinely concerned, I can’t help but give her a hard time.
“She hated him. She told him to fuck off. Then she loved him because…” I raise my hands in confusion.
“I don’t get it.”
“He was drawn to her from the very beginning. He looked at her in the ballroom. Did you see him look?”
“Then he called her ugly.”
“He’s a man, he was being dumb.” I don’t have time to be offended, or pretend to be, before she continues passionately.
“He was in love with her. He helped her into the carriage, so he had a reason to touch her. His hand, did you see his hand?” She rewinds the movie to show me.
“I don’t get it.”
“Ahhh!!” She launches herself back onto the couch in distress and fake cries.
“Did you enjoy it at all?”
I’ve never been someone who gets emotionally attached to fiction.
I didn’t watch much TV growing up, only read a few books, and didn’t ever see a movie more than once.
I could count on one hand the times I went to a movie theater .
“It was alright.” But if Jo asked me to watch a movie with her every single night.
My ass would be here, ready with the remote.
“I should probably go home now,” she sighs, but doesn’t move.
I should ask her to stay longer, but I won’t.
“I’ll walk you back.”
“It’s twenty feet away, I’ll be alright.” She laughs, climbing to her bare feet.
I’m not a feet guy; they’ve never been an exceptionally appealing part of a woman, but seeing her pad around without shoes on in my home touches something deep within me.
Don’t get me started on all the sexy shoes she wears, strutting recklessly around this place.
A sane man would have told her to stop wearing them because they aren’t functional…
But I’m not sane when it comes to her.
I follow her to the door because seeing her safe inside is not up for debate, and she spins suddenly, facing me in the doorway.
“Thank you for tonight, Lochlan. It really got me out of my funk.”
She’s looking up at me so sweetly, full of hope and wonder.
She’s looking at me like she wishes I were the prince charming she’s dreamed about.
I’m not.
“Jo, I-” I’m not sure what draws my attention away from her, a sound, a sixth sense, but my head jerks up, surveying our pitch black surroundings.
“Come back inside.”
“Why?”
“Someone is watching us.”
* * *
“Search the entire property and make sure there aren’t any signs of trespassers. Starting now, we’re taking shifts, and someone needs to be a lookout at all times.”
“Is she okay?” Hayes asks, peeking past me into the house.
“She’s fine.” I stare at the dripping red letters on the side of the guesthouse.
‘GET OUT’
I don’t know if it has anything to do with her or if it’s a bad coincidence, but the fact that someone was so close to us, to her, sets my skin on fire.
“Sheriff’s here.” Hayes lumbers away.
He has even more bad blood with the police than I do.
“Jackson’s here?” Jo asks from behind me.
I haven’t let her set foot outside my house since I suspected someone was on the property.
“Jackson? Are you that familiar with him?” I ask too defensively, making her step back.
I haven’t forgotten her hushed conversation with him after the barn fire.
“It’s definitely paint, not blood. Any sign of foul play anywhere else?” Sheriff Malec asks as he steps onto the porch, immediately pinging his gaze between us, sensing tension.
“They came in, sent a message, and got out,” I admit gruffly.
“And you’re sure it was meant for you?” He asks me, but glances at Jo.
“This shit started before she got here.”
“I need to cover all my bases.”
“I’m sure you do.” I don’t like the way he looks at her.
He can’t wait to protect her like the savior she needs .
“Lochlan, he’s just trying to help.” She steps forward like she might grab my elbow, but I back up before she can.
I don’t need pity.
I’ll never be the guy she needs.
“Maybe it’s time you stayed somewhere else, Jo,” Sheriff Malec suggests, ripping a knife through my gut.
“Yeah, maybe it is,” I agree, and she flinches at my clipped tone.
“I’m going to sweep the property one more time.”
“Lochlan!” She yells after me.
I stalk off without looking back.