Chapter 15
Taking Shelter
Thanks, Zach. The words pulsed through David’s mind with a weight that twisted in his gut. A simple acknowledgment—silent, shared telepathically between them, thanks to Nick always keeping the line open—but he meant every syllable. Down to his soul.
He hadn’t known genuine fear in a long time, not the kind that paralyzes muscles and stiffens the spine. But when Zach ‘pathed him earlier—Lena’s got a stalker—he’d gone ice cold. Terror wasn’t supposed to be part of this place. Not for someone like Lena. Not with everything she’d already endured.
She should’ve been safe here.
David’s hands gripped the steering wheel of the cart harder. He forced his jaw to unclench.
Their island resort was tranquil, controlled, and private. Luxury wrapped in security, woven with discretion. So how the hell did a stalker slip through without tripping alarm sensors?
Worse—how had he gotten in to leave gifts, invade her porch, sneak into her space?
We need to upgrade our security. David ground his teeth together. No one should have been able to track her to the cottage. Getting there undetected? That was a whole other issue. He’d even gotten inside. The vase… That vase chilled him to the bone.
Zach’s silent response came immediately. Agreed. Lena is safe for now, so let’s table that until the morning. We’ll go over the plans, find the breach.
Tonight, she needs calm. Help her find it. Nick’s level intonation re-centered David.
Right. He could do that for her.
He pulled into the driveway in front of the guest suite, the usual crunch of gravel under the tires grounding him. The cart stilled, and he grabbed the bin with the kitten’s litter-box and food, absurdly out of his element. Of all things, Lena had acquired a cat? Then again, of course she had.
Lena wouldn’t turn away anything vulnerable. Wasn’t in her nature.
The cat probably imprinted on her the moment she arrived, and she’d simply made room for it in her life—just like that. No questions, no reservations. It’s so her.
He swiped his card and pulled open the door, chilly air rushing to meet him, a hint of lavender pervading the room. The foyer lay quiet. Still. He set Minx’s supplies down inside the door and turned to fetch Lena’s suitcase from her cart.
The sound of dragging wheels made him look up to see Lena struggling to tug the rolling case up the stairs with one hand while juggling the tiny puff of gray fur in the other. He sighed. Independence was stitched into her bones.
He jumped forward, meeting her on the stoop and taking the suitcase from her. “Here, I got it. You handle the fur ball.”
Her eyes met his for a beat—tired but touched with gratitude. Maybe a flicker. Maybe more. Either way, it eased something taut in his chest.
David, Marguerite says dinner will be ready in five minutes. Zach 'pathed.
Thanks. We’ll be over in a minute.
He hauled the suitcase upstairs and left it on the bedroom bench before jogging back down, catching her smile as Minx explored the room on soundless paws, whiskers twitching.
The kitten stalked over the rug like a lioness on the prowl, checking every inch of her new domain. David followed the kitten’s path with vague disbelief. Minx might fill his palm on a good day: a tremble of gray fluff and tail. A dandelion come to life.
“Minx, huh?” he asked, hands in his pockets. “Does the name reflect her personality?”
Lena tilted her head, mouth quirked in a grin. “She gets into everything. Took her a full three days to accept the cottage. She sniffed every corner, poked all the pillows. Now? She owns the place. Looks like she’s doing the same invasion-tactic here—only faster.”
“Confidence looks good on her.”
“So does chaos.” Minx stalked into the kitchen, tail flicking like a tiny banner. Lena turned back to him with a sparkle of amusement in her eyes.
“I dropped your case upstairs. You can unpack after we eat. Dinner’s ready.” He clocked the time out of habit even though he’d already heard from Zach via ‘path. “What do you need to do for the fuzz ball before we go?”
“Just set up the litter box,” she held it in her hands as she scanned for possibilities. Her gaze swept toward the half-bath door.
He opened it before she could ask. “In here? There’s a little corner.”
“Perfect.” She slid the box into the nook like it belonged there and washed her hands.
“Okay. I can do everything else after dinner. It would be rude to keep the others waiting.” God, she still thought of other people first—even after that damn present, that doll.
Even after the phone calls and the seashells and the chilling vase. Resilient didn’t even cover it.
He nodded and crossed to the interior doors which led into the Residence proper. “Zach unlocked our side for you and updated your keycard for access. You’ve got free use of this entrance now. On your end, you can still engage your own locks if you want privacy.”
He opened one and stepped aside, arm sweeping low to let her pass first. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing the fluffy little invader on the other side.
David placed a guiding hand on Lena’s lower back as they moved through the empty meeting room. “You’ve been here before for staff briefings. Our home conference room.”
She nodded, gaze flicking over familiar elements now shifted by context.
They passed into the private wing of the Residence, the hush of plush carpets and muted lighting surrounding them like a cocoon. “On the left here is Marguerite’s suite,” David pointed to the entry doors as they walked. “This is the main Residence.”
The living room opened ahead like a refuge, wide and inviting, with comfortable furniture and recessed lighting gleaming along wooden beams. Firelight flickered from the hearth across the floor.
“My suite’s over there,” he waved a hand toward the opposite hallway as he moved to the right. “Kitchen and dining are down this way.”
Lena followed, her footsteps muffled and hesitant.
The aroma hit him first. Fragrant spices, just a touch of lime, slow-braised beef, and corn tortillas toasted on a skillet. Marguerite’s comfort food masterpiece.
Marguerite bustled around the kitchen island, laying out colorful dishes—shredded lettuce, diced tomatoes, crema, guacamole, peppers, cheese. The works. Zach and Nick each held beers, stances relaxed but alert.
“There you are!” Marguerite’s voice lit the room like sunshine. “Perfect timing, Davie. It is ready.” She swept around the island like a storm of warmth and pulled Lena into a hug.
Lena blinked, surprised, and cast a silent plea over Marguerite’s shoulder at David. He smirked. Good. Let the affection knock some of the anxiety off her bones.
“Bébé ,” Marguerite patted Lena’s back once more, “the boys told me about your stalker. Do not worry. You are safe here. Zach and David will take care of everything. You eat, rest, and heal, yes?”
She coaxed Lena toward the taco bar. “Go on, make yourself a plate. When the boys are in residence, dinner is at 7 unless one of them changes it. I always make too much—join us anytime.”
Before Lena could even thank her, Kate barreled into the kitchen like a cannonball. “Sorry I’m late!” she cried, tripping over herself to get to Lena and wrap her in another hug. “Nick told me—holy crap, I can’t believe this. Are you okay?”
Lena blinked at the sudden influx of affection, but she didn’t pull away.
Kate leaned back, eyes snapping in fury. “I swear, they’ll catch the asshole. Sorry, Marguerite,” she added with a grimace.
Marguerite waved her apology off. “He is an asshole.”
David burst out laughing, the tension bleeding off him in stages. “Kate, you’re a wordsmith. If you think ‘asshole’ fits, I’m inclined to agree.”
Marguerite laid out a last platter and clapped her hands. “Let us eat!”
As everyone moved toward the island, David kept an eye on Lena as she laughed with Kate. Actually laughed.
Kate handed Lena a glass of red wine, and the light played off her face as she leaned into whatever joke Nick made. Her shoulders, taut with anxiety before, eased down enough to suggest safety—space to breathe again.
David’s gut unknotted one twist at a time. Mission accomplished for now, at least.
They’d get the stalker. They’d secure the resort. But tonight? Tonight, Lena was surrounded by laughter and warmth.
And tacos.
That was a damn good start.