Wearing an oversized flannel button-down shirt and some too large sweatpants Lasette stood at the oven range watching the fish fillets cook. Once she heard the water start for Dorian’s shower, Lasette took the opportunity to investigate the fridge. Now that she was warm her body was starting to aggressively remind her that she hadn't eaten since she found that protein bar in her gym bag.

 

Wrinkling her nose with a smile, she mentally corrected herself—not a protein bar.

 

What a particular man she thought, silent, gruff, and all around brusque. He certainly wasn't the type of man that she ever dated. Flipping the fillets over in the sizzling butter she added a pinch more of seasoning. Though despite his rough persona, Lasette couldn't help but react to the man. Underneath his tough as nails exterior, there was a good man who used his strength and expertise to save the life of a stranger in a time of need. Through those eyes that reminded her of rolling thunder clouds was a good man and she suspected a lonely man.

 

"Christ that smells good."

 

Turning to look over her shoulder Lasette could feel her pulse react to the sight of him. His close cut dark hair was wet from his shower revealing cute wavy curls while his T-shirt clung to his abs as if he didn't finish drying before pulling it on. In a pair of pants similar to the ones he loaned her, Dorian stood barefoot behind her casting a hungry gaze over her shoulder.

 

Refocusing her line of sight, she turned off the gas burner. "I was hoping you wouldn't mind if I made myself at home in your kitchen. I figured you had to be hungry as well."

 

"Mmm," he made a noise of agreement as he grabbed two plates from a cabinet. "I do not mind at all, I want you to make yourself at home." His eyes met hers with the same steadiness his hands did as he held out the plates for her to serve.

 

Willing herself not to assume he meant anything more by his statement she carefully served the fish and sautéed asparagus onto the plates. Bringing the plates and glasses to the living room, they arranged their food onto the coffee table. The fire in front of them blazed brightly in the dark room casting everything in a soft amber glow.

 

Sitting on the large sofa Lasette smiled at the thick blankets that were already laid out.

 

"Here, lift your feet," Dorian said, walking around the sofa behind her.

 

Easily he pushed the heavy sofa with her on it, closer to the fire. Coming back around he sat on the other end of the sofa and grabbed his plate.

 

"Thank you for cooking," he said between bites. "It's amazing, I never make tilapia taste this good."

 

Settling deeper into the blanket wrapped around her she smiled at his compliment. Lasette wasn't going to tell him how much butter she used, she was too busy enjoying the rare compliment.

 

"You're welcome, it's the least I can do." Seeing the matte black gun on the coffee table, she dared to ask. "Do you always carry a gun with you?"

 

Finished with his plate, he set it on the coffee table before giving her a penetrating look. "Yes, does that make you uncomfortable?"

 

For the life of her, she couldn't figure out if it was just his voice or was he always so serious.

 

"No I don't mind them, I grew up with three brothers and my dad who loves to hunt," she smiled just remembering how happy all the "boys" were to go on their manly hunting trips while her and her mom got the whole house of themselves. Setting her plate down she pulled her legs underneath her under the blanket. "No, I guess what makes me uncomfortable is that there was actually a real-life need for one."

 

Just thinking of those two men chasing her down the street made her shiver.

 

"I wouldn't have let anything happen to you Lasette." The sheer strength and authority dripping off his words told her he meant every one of them. "The moment you walked away from me at the station I began to follow. I had no intentions of letting you go."

 

She wasn't sure if it was the crackling fire a few feet away or his words, but her body was beginning to heat up.

 

With one arm casually over the back of the couch, Dorian leaned comfortably back into the corner of the sofa. Lasette had to pull her eyes from the slight flexing of his abs. Now that she thought about it this was the first time they were seeing each other without layers of winter clothing. Lord, he looked good. Just as she suspected, he was all hard lean muscle underneath those clothes.

 

Desperate to lighten the mood she smiled. "Well it's lucky for me you decided to work late too, right?" she laughed at her own rhetorical question, all of a sudden feeling extremely nervous under this man's gaze. "So what do you do for fun?"

 

"Wait let me guess!" She rushed before he could answer.

 

A small smile spread across his usually stern lips as he allowed her to guess.

 

"I bet you're the outdoorsy type like hiking and camping." She had to be right, everything about Dorian screamed rugged man's, man.

 

The smile spread to a mischievous smirk. "Wrong." He didn't hide his amusement at her shocked expression. "I have done enough camping for a lifetime in the Army I'm not really interested in doing it just for fun."

 

Tilting your head, she smiled even larger. "I can certainly understand that," turning on the sofa until her back was pressed against the armrest like his, she tucked everything but her head in the blanket she draped around herself. "So what do you like to do?"

 

Looking to the fire, Dorian studied the dancing flames. Amber light and shadows played delicately against the hard planes of his face.

 

"I don't know actually," he finally answered, turning his gaze back to hers. "Since I got out I've been focused on finding a career and a place to live. And now that I have all that established…" His words trailed off pointedly.

 

"Well, I can understand that I'm pretty much the queen of hobbies." She laughed watching him stoke the fire while adding another piece of wood. "My family jokes that the only hobby left out there for me is doomsday prepping. I told them all I need is a good end of the world conspiracy theory and I'm all set to go."

 

Dorian smiled largely with a small laugh, which made her heart race, to get a smile out of the man felt like winning the lotto. Walking to the kitchen, he pulled something out of the cabinet and sat back on the sofa. Setting a bottle of what looked like whiskey on the table he grabbed her empty glass.

 

"Preppers’ just remind me of organized hoarders," splashing the dark gold liquid into her glass he pushed it in front of her on the coffee table.

 

Lasette didn't really like the taste of whiskey, so she ignored it.

 

Taking a sip from his own glass, he turned on the couch facing her hanging his arm off the edge. He held the glass tumbler with an air of casualness stretching out his long muscular arm.

 

"Tell me Lasette," the sound of her name on his deep velvety voice snapped her focus back to his face. "Is there someone out there waiting for you tonight?"

 

The question felt like a white-hot spotlight placed above her all of a sudden. From the moment they meet there has been an unspoken attraction building between them that both overlooked—or at least she did. Getting involved with a total stranger was out of the question. Not only did she barely know the man, she could hardly trust her judgment tonight. Right now the man not only looked like a well-built athlete he looked like a hero in her eyes. A lonely hero she desperately wanted to pull into her arms. No tonight her brain was all muddled and impulsive she couldn't trust it.

 

Although…how well did she know anyone from match.com, the rogue thought slipped effortlessly through her mind.

 

"Umm kind of...I mean, yes," she decided to give him a firm answer rather than the truth, that she just had two dates with the guy.

 

Dorian’s stormy gaze narrowed for a second before he gave her a slow smile. Did he see right through her lie?

 

"I don't go on very many dates," Tipping the tumbler in is large grip he watched the gold liquid swirl in his glass as he held it up to the firelight, lost in thought for a moment. "I'm not very good at it since I normally don't have a lot to say."

 

Without thinking her heart reached out to the quiet, austere man and she found herself desperately wanting to comfort him. "Well, it's pretty tough for me too because as you have noticed," thinking of his "chatterbox" remark earlier that night. "I talk a lot, a little too much for some."

 

"Not for me,” his voice was only a hair’s breadth above a growl.

 

"I… I…" She wasn't sure what to say, his words surged through her body leaving her riding the edge of desire and fear.

 

This man's intense gaze had the ability to make her feel extremely aware of her femininity and its potential vulnerability. His quiet, watchful presence reminded her that she was only wearing a pair of underwear under his borrowed clothes. When she got out of the warm shower earlier, she couldn't bear the thought of putting on her cold soaked bra. She regretted that decision, maybe if she were wearing the cold, damp bra, it would stave off the hungry feeling that was coursing through her.

 

Seeing her falter under his predatory gaze he gave her a knowing smirk before letting her off the hook. "Earlier this evening you were in the middle of telling me about your third brother, finish telling me that."

 

Exhaling in relief, she happily accepted the lightened atmosphere and jumped back into her detailed rambling about her third and oldest brother Carson.

 

It was nice talking to him she realized at one point, though he was quiet, he seemed to listen to her intently. Every so often he would ask a question or comment making her feel like he was actually interested in what she was saying. There have been too many times throughout her life that she recognized the obvious signs of people no longer caring to listen. Relaxing fully into the soft sofa the same thought passed her mind again from earlier—Dorian was a good man, a lonely man but a man she could trust.