Morning sun poured through the small window in the loft, a bright spot of it seeming to zero in on his closed lids. Not that it mattered. He’d already been awake. In fact, Blayze hadn’t slept so much as a wink all night. Thoughts of making his way to Sophia’s bedside taunting him to no end. He’d tossed. Turned. Kicked off the covers and forced them back on, glancing over to see if Sophia was stirring too.

She hadn’t been. In fact, she hadn’t so much as made the slightest creak the whole nightlong.

With an irritated groan, Blayze shrugged from his back to his side, and gave his pillow a good, hard punch before resting into it once more.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Sophia crooned.

“His eyes shot open, revealing the subject of his endless thoughts. “Hi,” he grumbled.

“Are you awake now?” she asked.

Blayze took a better look at her, realizing she was already dressed for the day. Some workout clothes—spandex shorts, a tank top, and a pair of gym shoes. “I ran on the treadmill this morning, and I thought that this might be a good time for you to show me those self-defense moves you talked about, while I’m already warmed up.”

“What time is it?” he asked, letting his eyes close once more.

“Ten thirty.”

His eyes snapped back open. “Maybe I really did fall asleep,” he mumbled.

“Oh, you did,” she assured. “You were out like a light when I woke up.”

Blayze used that tidbit to convince himself he wasn’t as tired as he thought. “Okay,” he said through a yawn and stretch. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“All right. See you down stairs.” She made her way down the spiral staircase, and Blayze took a moment to find whatever it was he needed to keep his hands off her. An image of her father floated to mind, doing the job in a blink. He’d been hired to keep Sophia safe, not make out with her whenever they had a moment to themselves.

He hurried and got dressed, reminding himself of all the hours spent chopping the downed trees in the back yard in an effort to keep his distance and let Sophia have hers. All of it lost in one weak moment by the sink.

An amazing moment. But weak all the same. No worries. Blayze had rebuilt his resolve, and he was ready to go. Time to face the kryptonite once again.

* * *

Sophia eyed the tall forest of redwoods as she waited for Blayze. It was a beautiful day. Plenty of sun, hidden as it might be by the redwoods; it was there just the same. She could feel the warmth of it penetrating her very soul as she inhaled.

Last night Sophia had slept like a baby, the sensation of Blayze’s incredible kiss at her lips. The knowledge that he did, in fact, have feelings for her. Today she felt Capable. Ready to take on the world. Or at least, the self-defense training Blayze planned to give her.

She closed her eyes, lifted her chin to the sky, and pulled in another breath of the deep, woodsy scent, loving how much it smelled like Blayze. So masculine. If the word handsome could describe a smell, that’s what it was. Manly and appealing in every sense of the word.

The sound of the porch door opening said Blayze had made it downstairs. “Yeah,” she heard him holler to Roman. “I’ll take one. Thanks.”

“You want the works?” came Roman from the kitchen.

“Sure. Sounds great.”

“Fresh omelet?” Sophia asked, already knowing what Roman was offering.

“Yeah. Who knew the guy liked to cook?”

She laughed. “I knew.”

Blayze nodded. “Well, I’ll keep this short so we can get to those omelets.” He clapped his hands before rubbing them together.

Sophia sensed he wanted to rush through their time for a different reason, but she didn’t call him on it. “He’ll be a while,” she assured instead. “He’s dicing peppers, onions, mushrooms… things he plans to sauté before starting the eggs.”

“Oh.” Blayze wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. He looked good today. A pair of sport shorts and a sleeveless jersey, the dark blue color toying with the lighter blue of his eyes. “Let’s see… where do I usually start with this…?”

“You’ve done this before?” Sophia asked.

He nodded. “A few other clients and uh, all the ladies in my mom’s Bible study.”

Sophia grinned. “That sounds like you, Blayze Brockton. Such an honorable man.”

He gulped, went back to rubbing his hands for a second before perking up. “Okay, a few simple things to start. If you somehow get taken by someone against your will and put into handcuffs of some sort…” He stopped there. Shook his head. “This is dumb. We probably don’t need to even do it because I’m not going to let you out of my sight.”

“I know,” she assured. “But this is just in case. Okay? Besides, you did this for your mom’s church group; I’m sure none of them were under any certain threat. These are just good things for women to know, right?”

Blayze closed his eyes longer than a normal blink would warrant, shaking his head slightly. “You’re right. So, if someone straps your wrists together, in front or behind you, there might be a way to get out.”

“How?” she asked.

He reached out, took hold of her wrists, binding the two of them together by wrapping one hand solidly around them. They looked small compared to his large, muscular hands.

“Duct tape or zip ties—not the kind police officers use, but the hardware type—you can break through either of those things by simply lifting your hands up and away from your body, then slamming them back down against your hip.”

She nodded, lifted both of her arms up and brought them gently back down to bump her hip. Blayze released his grip. “That simple move will break either of those things.”

“How do I do that if they’re behind me?”

Blayze shuffled around to stand behind her. “Easy,” he said, his breath hot against the back of her neck. She hoped he didn’t notice the goosebumps that rose over her skin in response.

He took hold of her wrists once more, this time from behind. “Lift them away from you. It feels odd, but you just pull back as far as you can, then ram them against your back.”

She did as he said, slowly at first, and Blayze removed his hand once more. She practiced the action a few times without his help. “I guess I can see how that’d work.”

“Okay, now for a few more… physical ones,” he said.

Sophia took a deep breath and smoothed a hand down the front of her tank top. “Okay then. But I warn you, I’m an overachiever, so don’t underestimate me.”

Blayze chuckled under his breath. “Underestimate you?” He shook his head, leveled a look at her. “Never.”

Her heart galloped like a horse in pursuit; another point in the Blayze-had-legitimate-feelings-for-her camp.

“In the case of an attack,” he continued, “the most important thing to remember is this: Even if someone is physically stronger than you are, you can immobilize them by targeting weak spots on the body. Do you know what they are?”

She shrugged. “Everybody knows, don’t they? You knee a guy in the crotch if you’re in trouble.”

He grinned. “That’s definitely a very effective area, yes. But depending on how the attacker comes at you, that might not be an option. The main target points are eyes, nose, neck, groin, knees, and shins. We’ll just go through some quick scenarios. Step back until you’re against the house.” He motioned to the side logs of the cabin wall.

Sophia traded places with Blayze, taking a few steps back until she was flush against it.

Blayze stepped toward her and rolled his shoulders back a few times, looking bothered suddenly. “Okay, let’s say an attacker comes at you straight-on and pins you against a wall like this…” He straightened his arms toward her, wrapped his hands around her neck, then froze.

She gulped. “Okay…”

But he didn’t continue, only shook his head. “If anyone hurts you, Sophia, I swear…” His hands went limp. The color drained from his face. “Maybe I should let Roman teach you this. I don’t think I can handle it.” His thumb traced the hollow of her neck. Sophia could already see the wheels in his head turning. If he didn’t feel confident about their position, he’d try preventing her from speaking at the final event. She couldn’t have that.

She took hold of his hands, lifted them from her throat and gave them a shake. “Sure, you can. Maybe this will help…” Sophia hoisted her knee up with a loud hi-yah, coming dangerously close to striking him in the groin.

“Whoa!” Blayze jerked back with a grunt. “Okay, okay, I’ll do it.”

“That’s the spirit,” she cheered, raising a fist. “Hooyah!”

He seemed to snap further from his brooding. Enough to go over a series of useful tips. Ways to dig her thumbs into an attacker’s eyes, hit the nose for maximum impact, and several other moves she could use to temporarily disable an attacker.

“One way to really get ‘em—if you’re face to face like this—is to dip your head down just enough to get under the attacker’s chin, then jump and ram it with your head. You’ll have the force of your weight behind it, and it should stun them enough for you to run away.”

Next, Blayze moved to a different scenario—dealing with an armed attacker. “If someone puts a gun at your head, you’re going to want to grab it from them. But just know that it will definitely go off the moment you touch it. It’s pretty much guaranteed. So, you have to duck out of the line of fire first, and fast.” He gave her a nod. “Pretend to put a gun to my forehead.”

Sophia clasped her hands together to make a gun shape and nudged the makeshift barrel between his eyes. She resisted the voice that told her how likely it was that Blayze had had guns aimed at him in such a manner.

“You’re going to duck, grab, and kick.” Blayze ducked his head, grabbed the gun, and extended a leg to feign kicking her. “The grab and kick can be simultaneous, but you have to get your head out of the line of fire first. Understand?”

“Yes,” Sophia said.

“One last thing,” Blayze said. “The grab is kind of a two-part move, because you need to point the gun up as you grab it. Let’s try it a few times.”

He made a gun shape with his hands and rested the makeshift pistol against her forehead.

Sophia grabbed it with both hands, moved to point it upward but was startled when Blayze hollered, “Bang!”

“Why did you do that?” she asked, irritated.

“Because you grabbed the gun before you got out of the way.” His face turned hard. “I’m not kidding when I say the gun will go off. It will. And if it’s still pointed at your head, it’s over.”

The severity of what he was saying started to sink in.

“Fine,” she said, working to shake the irritation cycling through her. He could’ve at least given her a few chances to go over it.

He moved into position again. “Tell me what you’re going to do before you do it. Talk it out. That should help you remember.”

“Duck.” She buckled her knees, dropping out of aim in a blink. “Grab and point up… kick!” She acted each out in turn before he assumed position once more.

“Again.”

She repeated the sequence a few more times before Roman hollered from the kitchen.

“Made to order omelets, ready to go.”

Blayze stepped back from Sophia and looked her up and down.

A trace of heat fluttered over her skin anew.

“Not bad,” he said. “Let’s go get some food.” He opened the door and motioned for her to go first. She went, nearly forgetting all about her objection to doing that very thing.

She considered that as Roman handed over a gorgeously loaded omelet, the aroma causing her mouth to water. It seemed that Blayze had somehow—like her father—worked his way into that sacred part of her heart. The part that fully trusted.

In one sense, Sophia liked knowing that; Blayze Brockton was an incredible man. The stuff true warriors were made from. And his acts of chivalry were decent and pure. But to know she’d let him into such a deep place… something about the idea scared her. Sure, he’d proven to be attracted to her, physically at least. But what if that’s all there was? What if she’d jumped headfirst into the deep end, while he’d somehow kept his feelings to the shallow side of the pool?

“Well, should we say grace?” Roman asked, breaking into her thoughts.

Sophia glanced up. Nodded. And watched Blayze cup his hands and bow his head. While Roman said grace, Sophia sent a thoughtful prayer of her own. God, don’t let me fall too deep. Though she feared it was a little late for that.