I don’t sleep. I lay there holding Sierra for more than an hour, and I don’t think about anything but her. Her smell: floral with a hint of vanilla. Her hair: soft on my cheek, light brown with streaks of red. Her fear: right fucking everywhere. I shut her down about the bar for her protection. I shut her down about my past for her protection. I’m going to have to open the fuck up if I want her to do the same and that’s new territory for me. Everything with this woman is new territory for me. I’m just diving into about my fiftieth analysis of why that might be when she shifts next to me. I think she might roll away, but instead, she snuggles closer, and I smile. Oh yeah, I smile. This woman, up close to me, makes me one happy motherfucker.
She inhales deeply and flexes her fingers on my chest before her head lifts and she looks at me.
“Oh God. Did we—were we—?”
I laugh. “No, sweetheart. When we fuck, and we will, you’ll know. I make you that promise.”
She sits up and runs her hands through her hair. “That can’t happen.”
“And yet it will. You know it. I know it.”
“No, it won’t. How did we end up here? I was so knocked out I don’t even remember.”
“You laid down and were out in about thirty seconds,” I say lifting up on my elbows. “I decided to lay down with you and you curled up next to me.”
“Oh. Sorry. I—”
“Why would you be sorry? I’m not.” I sit up and face her, brushing my knuckles down her cheek. “I’m not sorry at all.”
She catches my hand and holds onto it, but I’m pretty sure she meant to set it aside. “My life is a mess, Asher. I can’t pull you into it.”
“I’m really good at cleaning up messes.”
“You barely know me. I barely know you.”
“I get it. You don’t trust me yet.”
“And you trust me?” she challenges.
“Actually, I do. I have a knack for reading people.”
“Be careful,” she warns. “Sometimes you think you have a knack and then you’re proven wrong.”
“Are you saying you’ll prove me wrong?”
“I’m saying there are things about me you might not like.”
“Try me.”
“No. I’m not going to do that.”
“Not yet,” I say. “But you’re right. You did just meet me. For now, I’ll take a leap of faith and take my chances on you. Maybe then you’ll take your chances on me.” I lift our hands and kiss hers. “I have a few more of those practical gifts for you.”
I stand up and walk across the room to grab the bags I left there and set them on the bed. “The locks are really fancy,” she says, noticing my work.
“They’re top of the line for a reason,” I say. “But a bad guy good at being bad can get past them, which is why we have back-up. Before we get to those things, though, I put the keys to the locks on the kitchen counter, and no, I did not keep one for myself. Because I installed the lock does not give me a right to a key. Only you can do that.”
She studies me for several beats. “I appreciate that.”
“Whoever the asshole is that made you think you had to thank me for that needs an ass whooping. I’ll be happy to deliver it. Just say the word.”
“I wish it were that easy.”
“It’s easier than you think. You’ll find that out when you decide to trust me.” I move on before she withdraws and pull out a new canister of mace. “This is real pepper spray.”
“And it’s better than the tear gas?”
“Yes. People like me who’ve been exposed to tear gas can become immune. Some people simply have a natural partial immunity. And if the person is drunk or high, it might not affect them at all.”
“I had no idea. So, it’s basically worthless.”
“Not worthless, but not your best option. With a pepper spray, immunity is not going to happen. I’ve known a few guys who can survive it better than others, but they still feel it. But—”
“There’s always a ‘but,’ isn’t there?”
“Most of the time. The problem with all these sprays is that you can spray yourself instead of the enemy or with the enemy.”
She laughs. “You’re such a soldier with the enemy talk.”
“That I am,” I say, motioning her to her feet and to the small open area near the front door. “You need to know how to handle any weapon you choose or it can be turned around and used on you.”
“The mace is pretty simple. Just aim and spray.”
I grab an empty canister and hand it to her, sticking the good one on the kitchen counter. “That’s a fake you can practice with now and later. Let’s see how easy it really is because I wasn’t trying to attack you when you sprayed me.” I charge her and press her against the wall, her soft body against every really fucking hard part of mine. “You didn’t spray me, sweetheart.”
“You surprised me.”
“That’s the point.”
“Right. Of course.”
“Spray me now,” I say. “Before I kiss you.”
She holds up the bottle and sprays the empty canister. Air puffs in her face. “You would have just sprayed yourself.”
“That was unfair.”
“Criminals aren’t fair.”
“Right,” she looks down. “You’re right. They absolutely are not.”
Her reaction tells a story. She’s not just running from a man. She’s running from a dangerous man. I release her. “Let’s cover some basics.”
“Make sure I point it at them, not me.”
“Let’s talk about how to do that.” I grab the filled canister. “I put a raised arrow sticker on the button.” I show it to her and let her run her finger over it. “Can you tell which way to shoot from that?”
“Yes. Yes, that’s perfect.”
“Good.” I set it back down. “If you’re really being attacked, your adrenaline will be high, and mistakes happen. If you fire wrong, you’re the one on the ground and incapable of stopping an attack. Where do you keep it?”
“In my purse.”
“If someone grabs your purse, you’d never get to it. If it’s in your purse, the seconds it takes to find it could be one second too many.”
“I can’t just walk around with it in my hand.”
“In this neighborhood, you need it in your pocket,” I say, “with your hand on it.”
“It was the cheapest place I could find.”
“I’m not judging you, Sierra,” I say. “I’m just stating facts. Once you spray, run. That gets you out of the fumes and away from the enemy. Don’t stop and look at them like you did me. And one final thing and it’s important. If you spray into the wind, it could blow back at you, and never hit your attacker. That makes you the one on the ground and at the bad guy’s mercy.”
“That really happens?”
“Yes,” I say. “It does.”
“So I’m supposed to spray fast and run, but only if the wind is just right? That’s impossible.”
“Do you know how to shoot a gun?”
“No. I do not.”
“I’m going to teach you. I’ll take you to the shooting range tomorrow.”
“Isn’t that expensive?” she asks.
“I have Walker Security privileges.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do. I’m going to give you the tools to feel a little less fear. Practice with the mace.” I don’t warn her, I go at her again, and she puffs air in my face. “Good,” I say, “but you didn’t run.”
“I can’t in this place.”
“Get away from the spray.”
She nods. “Thank you. I really appreciate all of this.”
“We’re not done.” I grab the computer off the desk and motion her to the bed, where we sit side by side, the MacBook on my lap.
“See the camera icon?”
“Yes. I see it.”
“Click on it and you have two views. The exterior of the building and your front door.”
“Oh my God. That’s incredible. How did you do that?”
“I hacked a nearby camera for the front of the building and I installed a camera by your door and I put it in an obvious place. That way anyone who approaches knows they’re being monitored.”
“Thank you so much, but how do I see it? On my phone?”
“You keep the computer. And as a plus, it has Netflix. We’ll have something to watch when you invite me to hang out.”
“I can’t keep the computer, Asher. That’s not happening.”
“It’s my back-up. I never use it.”
“No, Asher, I—”
“Be smart. Take the resources I’ve given you.” I stand up and pull her to her feet. “Let me take you out to a nice dinner. I know a place where we can have a few drinks and then get a table.”
“I can’t do this.”
“Drink? Eat?”
“Whatever this is. Date you or—”
“You don’t want to date me?”
“It’s not about you. You know that. I just don’t date.”
“Why?”
“I can’t date.”
“Are you sick or something?” I ask.
“No. I’m not sick or something. Are you?”
“Aside from the fact I was poked and prodded in the Navy, and tested up and down, I’ll tell you what us SEALs say: If you love it and want to keep it, cover it up. I have a lot of love for the particular part of my body we’re discussing.”
She laughs. “The things you say.”
“I am who I am.”
“And who is that, Asher?”
“Find out. Go to dinner with me.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Then we won’t date. We’ll hang out as friends.”
“That kiss was…”
“Damn good.”
“You can’t kiss me again.”
“You sure as hell can kiss me anytime you want.”
“Friends don’t kiss,” she says.
“Friends with benefits do.”
“Friends. No benefits.”
“Okay. Just friends Nothing wrong with being friends first.”
“Not first,” she says. “Forever.”
Yeah, no, I think, but what I say is, “How about that dinner?”
“I can’t afford that dinner and you’ve spent too much money on me already.”
“All right. Let’s go find a decent pizza joint.”
“I’ve been living on two-dollar slices of pizza. I want a salad. One of those places in nicer neighborhoods where they have all kinds of add-ins and you can pick. Do you know a good place?”
“I know every place in this city. Grab your purse.”
“I don’t have my purse. Apparently, Luke took my clothes too, by the way. I really need to try to get my boots and purse cleaned. How can I get them back from him?”
“I’ll make sure you get them back and cleaned at a place that handles our toxic chemicals.”
“How many toxic chemicals do you deal with?”
“Walker is a national company. They handle about half the airport security across the country and private jobs all over the world.”
“And you’re bartending?”
“Didn’t we just have this conversation?”
“Yes.”
“Repeating it won’t change my answer,” I say, giving a spin to what she told me about her apartment.
She laughs. “I deserved that.”
“Yes, you did. We’ll find the things we can talk about and work up to the rest.” I step to her, cup her face and kiss her forehead before looking down at her. “I want to kiss you.”
“You just did.”
“That wasn’t a kiss.” I slide my hand under her hair, around her neck. “One more for the road.”
“No,” she whispers.
“But you taste like honey and sunshine. I really need to taste that again.”
“I taste like no.”
“You taste like yes. You just keep saying no.”
“Every man wants what they can’t have.”
“Now I know why you don’t date.”
“And why is that?” she asks.
I lower my mouth a breath from hers. “You picked the wrong men.” I release her and step back and her lashes lower, her neck bobbing with a deep swallow.
I’m right. There is another man. And I’d bet my left arm that he threatened her and anyone she cares about. Maybe anyone who helped her escape. I’m going to meet this man. I’m going to hurt this man. And then I’m going to celebrate by kissing Sierra all the fucking time. As often as she’ll let me.