Bran could have killed James for hurting Ireland, and that wasn’t like him. He didn’t get involved. He didn’t let a woman go to his head. But clearly all that had changed.

“I’ll drive you to Jaeg’s,” he said to Ireland after the police had escorted James off the premises. “If you’d rather stay with your cousin, I’ll understand, but I’d really like to hold you tonight.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “I want to be with you.”

Bran’s chest warmed at her words. He’d forgotten what it was like to have a woman need him. Actually, had he ever been a woman’s source of solace? No, never. He’d been young and self-involved, or older and not interested in anything permanent. Being able to provide what Ireland needed made him feel strong, happy.

Bran drove Ireland’s car to Jaeg’s and waited outside while she packed a few things.

She closed the front door quietly and walked to the car. “They’re watching TV. Cali flipped out when I told her what happened. The only reason she let me leave is because I said I was staying with you.”

Bran should feel uneasy about holding her safety in his hands. He might have with anyone else. But not with Ireland. He wanted to protect her—to be the man she came to for help. He opened the passenger door of her car to let her in, and put her overnight pack in the back seat before making his way to the driver’s side.

Ireland watched as he pulled on his seatbelt. “I’m so ashamed of everything that occurred tonight.”

He twisted toward her. “What happened wasn’t your fault. James was a jerk before you ever came on board. He’s a bully.”

“I seem to attract bullies.”

He pulled her close and held her, kissing her forehead. “It’s not about you. Some guys are just dicks. But I want you to be safe.” Bran had this sudden fear of something happening to her. He couldn’t stand the thought of anyone hurting Ireland. “Will you consider taking a self-defense class?”

She touched his hand near a fresh, raw scratch. “So I can fight like you?”

He pulled back. “So you can injure any piece of shit who tries to hurt you, and run. I don’t want you fighting, but I don’t want you vulnerable, either. This town is beautiful, but it has its share of deadbeats. You have to be careful.”

Thinking about what could have happened to Ireland if he hadn’t gotten there in time made him edgy. “Let’s get out of here.”

Ireland shook as Bran drove down the long drive to his house, latent adrenaline coursing through her body.

He glanced over, a frown on his face. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, the touch grounding her somehow. Weeks ago, she couldn’t have imagined the sense of peace he gave her. It was as though she’d never known him at all. As though he’d been hiding his true self.

A small part of her worried the old Bran would come back, and the last few weeks would all be a dream.

They pulled up to his house, and Bran grabbed her bag from the back seat. He led her to the front door, and they walked inside. Bran flipped on the lights.

For some reason, Ireland hadn’t noticed how bare his house was the first time she’d visited. Possibly because they’d been on a mission to find condoms. And then too busy putting them to use. Her face heated.

Bran scratched the side of his head. “It’s not much, is it?”

“No, it’s nice. The walls and flooring look brand new.”

“That’s because they are. But I never got around to furnishing the place.”

“Your bed is pretty,” she said, smiling.

The corner of his mouth kicked up. “Priorities.”

Ireland wrapped her arms around his waist. “You prioritize well.”

He pulled her in front of him so that their thighs and bellies pressed together. “I do, don’t I?” He grinned lewdly, and she laughed.

She’d felt like crap when they first arrived, and now she was laughing. Bran was a big old softy deep down. And she loved being the one to see that side of him. He was sweet and caring, and she didn’t know how she got so lucky to have him in her life.

Bran glanced around. “Seriously, though, it’s time to furnish this place. We couldn’t even watch a movie if we wanted.”

Ireland looked at the old recliner in front of a massive TV—the only two items in the living room. “A couch might help. But is watching a movie what you want to do right now?”

He ran his hands down her arms. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“After the high of fixing the software, and the low of James…I’m drained. I’d like to take you up on that offer to hold me.”

“Done.”

They made their way upstairs to the second floor that must also be new, because the bathroom had shiny finishes and the bedroom walls and flooring appeared new as well. There also weren’t any window coverings or furniture aside from Bran’s bed, which she was acquainted with.

He grabbed clothes lying on the end of the bed and tossed them in a walk-in closet, then he set her bag near the bed. “I’ll grab something to drink. Are you hungry?”

She’d bought food hours ago and never eaten it. Her stomach was tense. A large meal didn’t sound good, but she needed to eat something. “Maybe a snack.”

Ireland changed into shorts and a T-shirt while Bran ran downstairs. She was sitting on the bed thinking about tonight when he got back.

She must have had a sour look on her face, because Bran said, “How do you feel?”

“Upset.”

He walked over with a tray of crackers and cheese. “That’s understandable.” He shook his head. “I should have walked you to your car. I won’t make that mistake again.”

She reached for his hand. “You can’t protect me all the time. And until recently, you wouldn’t have protected me at all.”

“Of course, I would have.”

“You didn’t like me in the beginning.”

A rueful smile played on his lips. “We’ve already discussed how much I liked you. That was the problem.”

She harrumphed. “Well, you did a good job hiding your feelings.”

“I’ll prove how much I like and want you, but not tonight. You need rest.”

“Okay, boss,” she said. And ruined it with a yawn, because, dammit, he was right.

They ate the entire plate of cheese and crackers, and then Ireland found herself slowly slumping into a horizontal position on the bed. Her body felt weighed down by sandbags, and she was having a hard time keeping her eyes open.

Bran wrapped his arm around her, tucking her close, which only induced more drowsiness. His chest was warm and cozy, and he smelled like Bran and laundry detergent. She couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to.

One thing was for sure—aside from family members, Ireland had never had a man be there for her the way Bran had tonight. She wasn’t sure where things were going, but he was the only person who’d stood by her and made her feel safe. And that meant everything.