Kate
We arrive at the house Reece’s friend has rented for us and it’s gorgeous. Truly my kind of place. I stop to admire it as I walk up the path from the gate. It’s modern, a Huf Haus design, glass fronted and environmentally friendly.
Lots of glass, which would make me shudder, but Reece’s friend checked it has fitted blinds on all the windows that can be closed whenever we want.
“Nice,” Reece says. “Modern and sleek, just how I like it.”
“Me too,” I say. “It’s a Huf Haus from the looks of it, which means it will be environmentally friendly, too. This is the type of place I want to live in when this is all behind me.”
“Really?” He gives me a considered look, before turning to punch in the code Liam gave him for the key safe. “When I saw the little cottage you’d rented, I thought that was your thing.”
I shrug. “I didn’t mind it, but I rented it in a hurry when I realized my stalker friend had found me.”
He nods and opens the box, taking out two sets of keys. Passing one to me, he uses the other to open the door.
We step inside, and despite the owners saying they hadn’t had chance to get the cleaner in yet, the place is spotless.
An open plan kitchen and massive diner lead to sliding doors that head into a lounge area, beyond which there are more sliding patio doors and a large deck. From the deck there are wooden steps down to a cottage style garden, which seems to go back a fair way, but it hasn’t got any trees, and neither have the similar gardens on either side. The houses to each side of us are modern in design, too. At the end of the gardens is a track, and beyond that a field full of cows. No bushes or trees or anywhere for someone to hide. Reece’s friend did a good job.
Out the front door is a small lawn, then the road we came down, which is private, and the beach and the sea. It’s a long beach, and only a small part of it is by the private road, and I don’t think the beach itself is, but that’s okay. It would be hard for my stalker to linger around here and come to put things on the car, unless he’s mingling with the crowds, and this beach seems quiet. It is probably one of the many like it you find in North Wales, quiet and off the beaten track. With its mix of sand, shingle, and further on, stones, I doubt it ever gets the crowds some of the glorious golden sand beaches do. Again, that’s a good thing for us. It means anyone hanging around we can get a good look at.
“Your friend chose well,” I tell Reece with a smile.
He grins at me. “That’s Liam for you. He’s got a great strategic mind. When we were on missions he was always one move ahead of the enemy. He used to sometimes have a battle on his hands keeping me and Luka, another one of the guys, locked down, but Liam would always turn out to be right when he told us to wait things out.”
We head upstairs and look around. There’s four bedrooms, and one of them leads off from the main bedroom. It’s got a double bed in it, and a single. It seems like a room you’d put your kids in so you can keep an eye on them.
Reece turns to me. “I know it limits our privacy, but this set-up is perfect if you want to take this room. It means he can’t get to you unless he comes through me first.”
“Or the window,” I say.
Reece laughs. “They’re locked, double glazed, and the locks are good. He’d have to smash the thing in, which would make enough noise to wake an army of the dead.”
I consider what he’s saying. On the one hand, I don’t like the idea. It makes me feel trapped, but it would be safe. “I’ll have to walk through your room to go to the loo, and I can go a lot some nights, I’d feel stressed about waking you up all the time.”
“Don’t. I sleep well. I’ll wake, see it’s you, and then go straight back to sleep. Once I get used to your footfall, I doubt I’ll wake at all.”
“What?” His words make me focus on him for a moment, forgetting my stress at the situation. This is interesting. Anything like this people tell me, I always end up digging deeper into as it is great stuff for my novels. “How does that work?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know, but years spent on missions where we had to sleep in the weirdest of places, including up a tree. I’ve become adept at falling asleep while bombs are falling around me, but being able to wake if someone crept into our tent. My mind seems able to sort out familiar from unfamiliar. Threat from no threat.”
“Wow.”
“I won’t sleep naked, and I promise you, toilet trips won’t disturb me.”
“Okay. I’ll try it, but if it feels too weird, I’m going to take the bedroom across the way.”
“Fair enough.” He smiles at me.
He’s so not what I was expecting. When Gina told me some ex-SBS tough guy was coming to protect me, I’d imagined a man of few words, short hair, stern features, and no give or take.
“What? You’re smirking at something.” He quirks one brow at me.
I tell him what I was thinking.
He laughs. “You’ve described all the rest of us. You won the lottery when you got me.” He throws that cheeky wink my way again, and then saunters out of the room, returning a few moments later with our bags.
He passes me mine, and I take it into the smaller room beyond his. I don’t unpack much. My favorite jeans, two tops, and a pair of sandals, along with my shorts, and a swimming costume. My bikini days are over. I decided that when I hit forty. My figure isn’t bad. I haven’t had kids, and I haven’t ever gained or lost a lot of weight, so my figure stayed pretty much as it was when I was in my twenties, but time has softened things. My belly is rounded, my upper arms have a wobble, and my thighs, ugh. I don’t even like to think about the soft bits of flesh dimpling my inner thighs. I’m not bad for my age, but my sexy, sylph-like days are long gone.
So is my sex life. I sigh as I stare at my boring, utilitarian underwear. I have one set of fancy silk stuff, and for some reason I packed it. I always do when I go anywhere, as if maybe I’ll meet someone worth wearing it for. But for that to happen, I’d have to find my sex drive again, and ever since that bastard locked onto me, I’ve not had one. His timing was impeccable. I’d already been through a way too long dry spell. I’d decided that weekend to try dating again, to get back out there, and I’d come home from a walk to the shops on Monday to find the first bunch of flowers on my car.
I shake off the thoughts and take my underwear out of my bag shoving it in the top drawer. Then I put my jeans, tops, and shoes in the wardrobe, and fasten the rest of my stuff back in my bag. If I can’t deal with sleeping in here. I don’t want to have to move it all again.
Poking my head around the door, I ask, “Can I come through?”
Reece turns to me, one of those small hangers used for underwear or ties or such in his hand. “You don’t have to ask.”
His wardrobe door is open, and I see a few pairs of jeans hanging, as well as cargo pants, and one rather smart suit. I look at the suit and then to the hanger in his hand, from which are trailing four or five ties in various bright colors.
“I didn’t know if you’d maybe have any important events to go, what with being a famous author and all.” He grins. “So, I brought along my only suit, and my ties.”
“You’ve got one suit but like five or so ties?”
“Yeah. I hardly ever wear a suit, and you change your shirt and tie and it looks like a different suit. I did have another one, but it got ruined.”
“What, in some dangerous situation?” There goes my imagination again.
“You could say that. A girl knocked red wine all over me at a wedding. Full glass, and I mean all over me. It was a mid-grey suit, stuff never came out of it.”
“Ah, okay.”
“I’ve never gotten around to replacing it.”
I give a yawn and look outside to see the sun is starting to lower in the sky.
“Listen. I’m going to go around and draw all the blinds, okay? I want to check all the window locks, too. Then maybe we can unpack the food you brought from the cottage and scrounge up some supper. Sound good?” Reece looks at me.
“You draw the blinds and check downstairs first, and I’ll make supper while you’re doing the upstairs,” I offer.
“Deal.”
He only takes five minutes doing his thing downstairs, and then I head down, while he does the upstairs, to make us some food. I don’t have a lot of stuff available but we bought some basics, and I manage to rustle up a pasta dish with some shop-bought sauce and some garlic bread that I put in the oven. I pour myself a glass of white wine, and when Reece wanders back into the room, I offer him a glass, but he shakes his head.
“Makes me sleepy. I’m working so I need to stay alert.”
“Okay.” I’m glad he’s taking this seriously. Taking protecting me seriously.
We eat, and I marvel as he wolfs his food down, and then goes to top up his plate with more pasta and sauce. Mind you, his size, I suppose he puts a lot of calories away.
“This is great,” he says between mouthfuls. “I don’t normally eat so many carbs but I do love a good old binge now and again.”
“You don’t eat carbs? What do you eat then?”
“I do eat carbs, but not this much. I eat a lot of protein, some good fats, fruit, vegetables, and some carbs like sweet potatoes, but not pasta and stuff. Only now and again.”
“I take it you work out a lot.” I try not to ogle his massive arms in his tight t-shirt as I say this. It fits tight around his biceps, but looser around what I bet is a rock hard midriff.
“Yeah, I work out a lot. When I was younger, I got bullied at school. I went home one day crying to my dad, I was about ten or eleven, and he told me to learn to fight, learn to stand up for myself. He went to a local gym and he enrolled me in self-defense classes there. I started to get into working out when I was about fourteen, and I’ve never looked back. Mostly these days though, I do stuff I like. Swimming, hiking, running in the hills. I only go to the gym to do weights a couple times a week.”
“I should do more exercise. I walk, hike, and swim, and yeah, climb when I get the chance, but I don’t go to a gym or anything regularly. Don’t do weights.”
His eyes light up, and he smiles at me. “Weights are the best. Seriously, I’ll bore you to death talking about it, but resistance training is so much better than endless cardio. Yeah, it’s good that you walk and swim and stuff, but you want to protect your bones and joints into old age, then you should add some resistance work. Luka could do you a basic program. He used to be a personal trainer before he came into the business.”
He breaks off some garlic bread and uses it to wipe up the remaining sauce on his plate. “Gorgeous. Thanks.”
I laugh. “I literally boiled a pan of water, heated the sauce, and put the bread in the oven. We need to go to the shops tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
God, he’s so easy to get along with. Not what I imagined at all.
“Anything else you want to do? What time do you get up? I’m basically your shadow, so whatever you want, let me know.”
“That’s not fair. It should be a team thing. If you’re a late riser then I can lie in longer,” I offer.
“Nope. I’m normally up by seven.”
“Me too.”
I think about tomorrow and the gorgeous beach right outside our door. “There is one thing I’d like to do, if the weather holds. Go for a swim.”
“You’re on.” He grins at me. “This is going to be a sweet job. And to think, the guys are going to be stuck in London all week minding a party of EU bureaucrats.” He laughs.
“How come you drew the short straw and got this job?” I ask.
“All the other guys are attached.”
I must have shown something with my expression because he holds his hand up and carries on quickly. “Not that it’s a problem them minding a woman, it’s more the open-ended nature of this job. We don’t know how long it will be, so their women didn’t like the idea of them being gone for weeks or months on end.”
Just like that, my mellow is gone. I stare at my plate of food, no appetite left for the remaining, cooling pasta. Yeah, it could be months. It could be longer. What if this sick bastard is never caught?
“Did I say something wrong, Kate?” His voice is gentle.
I look at him, and shake my head. “No. It’s…this could go on for a long time, and the thought makes me sick.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. There may be a way to bring things to a head. Flush him out, but first we need to see what my contacts say with regards to all the evidence I am going to get to them. It won’t be the safest option, but there may be a way to move things along.”
“I like the idea of that.” I do. It’s scary to think about making something happen with the lunatic who is my stalker, but it’s taking back control. That’s the worst thing about being stalked like this, the total lack of any control over my life anymore. I’m basically nothing more than a reactive machine. I hide, and hope, and wait, he finds me, I react. Rinse and repeat. This way, I get to make the next move.
“I’m sick of letting him be in control. Even if it is more dangerous, I’d rather do something to provoke him into making a mistake and coming out of hiding, than wait for him to decide when he wants this to end.”
Reece is looking at me, and I swear there’s admiration shining in his green eyes. “My thoughts exactly. And yes, it won’t be as safe as sitting around, but I’ll make it as safe as I can, and the danger will be ameliorated. I won’t make a move in that direction without having a lot more information, and I’ll get the boys up here, too.”
“So, I’ll have a whole team of Special forces guys looking after me?”
“Yeah, it’s a possibility.” He laughs and his white teeth glint in the low light of the room.
Lord help me, if the rest of them are this hot, I’ll combust.
I head to bed a few hours later and say goodnight to Reece. As my head hits the pillow, my last thought is a prayer I don’t need the loo like twenty times in the night.
**
My head hurts, and I lift it from the pillow to look at my watch beside the bed. I can see light beyond the blinds, and I wonder what time it is. I’m shocked to hell to see it’s eight-thirty, and I have slept right through, no toilet trips or anything. I can’t remember the last time I slept so well.
After heading through Reece’s empty room, I take a detour to the bathroom for an urgent pee, my bladder so full it’s painful. Then I meander down the stairs, taking my time to look at some of the modern artwork and photographs lining the walls of the stairway.
The scent of bacon hits my nose, and I remember we had a few rashers left. I’d decided not to use it in the pasta so we had something in for breakfast. I reach the bottom stair and turn right to face Reece at the stove. He’s got thick slices of bread buttered, and he’s pulling bacon out of the grill.
He turns to me. “Morning sleepyhead.”
His hair is down, and he’s only wearing pajama bottoms, and I swear, I lose control of my legs. I stop and can only stare.
Oh, my word, he’s stunning. His body is a work of art. I’ve never seen anything like it. Hard and big, and his skin is all golden and yummy. He’s covered in gorgeous tattoos too, colorful and different.
I wish I’d bothered to brush my hair or put a slick of lip gloss on or something. I must look a fright. I think I’m boring at the best of times. This morning, in my knee length night dress and no make-up, I bet I’m downright unattractive.
Oh, who am I kidding. I’m well past my sexual prime, a woman in her forties isn’t going to be lighting the fires of anyone, least of all this mountain of a man in front of me. I snap out of my daze and plaster a smile on my face.
“You made breakfast. I’m pretty sure the job description doesn’t include cooking.”
“Well, you didn’t surface, and so I figured I’d make us some food and hope the smell tempted you out of your lair.” He’s teasing because his eyes are dancing with amusement. “I think someone lied when they said they were an early bird.”
“I normally am. To be honest, I normally don’t sleep, but last night I slept like a log. I think it was all the carbs and the wine. Knocked me out.”
We eat quickly and discuss our day. We both decide beach first, shop later is the better plan. It’s a glorious morning and you never know in Britain when the weather might change.
After me rinsing the pots and Reece sticking them in the dishwasher, we both go and get ourselves ready for a trip to the beach. I come down wearing my swimsuit with denim shorts and a t-shirt over the top. Birkenstocks are on my feet, a book in my bag, sunglasses perched on my head, and some sunscreen. Plus a bottle of water and a couple of high protein, low carb snack bars. I think Reece will appreciate one of those if he gets peckish.
I’m standing by the door when Reece slaps down the stairs in sandals, board shorts, and nothing else. I manage not to stare this time, after already seeing him in his shirtless glory this morning, but good God, the man is fine.
My muse is all fired up and ready to write those love scenes. Trouble is, she wants the dour, dark haired PI to suddenly morph into a bronzed, leonine god. Not going to happen.
We cross the road after Reece locks up, both our shoes schlepping together in time. He’s a lot taller than me. Most guys I’ve dated in the past have been a couple of inches taller or so, not Reece. He towers over me, and I like it. I can imagine him dominating me with his big body, and I suppress a shiver. I used to like being dominated somewhat, liked it a bit rough, too. Since the freak found me and started writing to me, it’s felt kind of wrong to have those desires, so I locked them away, along with my libido.
I snap out of my thoughts and look around me. There are no cars on the road, and only four people that I can see on the beach. A couple are walking their dog, a single man is also walking a dog, and a woman lies on the beach, on her front, a big floppy sun hat hiding her face.
Unless my stalker has a dog he takes with him for cover, I think we’re clear.
I glance at Reece to catch him giving the beach a calculating sweep, and he seems to be okay with what he sees as he gives a small, almost imperceptible nod to himself.
We head over some rocky shingles, to an area that is mostly sand, and I put down two large beach towels. Reece lies on the one on the right and I take the one on the left. For a moment, I’m a tad self-conscious, wondering if I ought to make conversation, but wanting to read my book and relax for a while. He reaches into the pocket of his shorts and takes out his phone, swipes the screen once, and then taps the Kindle symbol. I let out a breath, and take my book out of my bag, secure I can read without seeming rude.
After thirty minutes or so of reading, I’m starting to feel a bit hot. There’s a nice breeze and the weather rarely gets overly warm on the West coast, but I didn’t apply any sun lotion and I don’t want to burn. I decide to take a quick dip in the sea, and then I’ll slap some sunscreen on.
I stand, and Reece looks up at me, large hand shading his face. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I thought I’d go for a swim.”
“Okay.” He stands too, and I frown.
“You don’t have to join me. You can see me easily from here, and there’s hardly anyone on the beach.”
“No.” He laughs. “I wasn’t following you for that reason, I fancy a dip myself.”
“Ah. Right.” I feel a bit silly, but he nudges my side as we head down to the water and gives a low chuckle and just like that, my embarrassment flees.
The moment we reach the waters edge, I pause. I love this. The sea, being able to swim. Hell, I love even a paddle. The ocean simply makes me feel free in the way no other element of nature can. I breathe in the salty, tangy air, and smile as I turn my face up to the sun, letting the soft waves lap at my toes.
“Wow. It’s cold.”
He nods with a grin. “Yep. It’ll be freezing. Not had the full summer to warm up. Do you know, the waters off the coast of Wales are the hottest in October?”
“Bloody hell!” I turn to the sea and frown. “The water might be, but the air then will be frigid. No thanks.”
“Ah, you wuss.” He starts to wade in. “You okay if I have a bit of a swim? I’ll make sure to keep you in sight.”
“Of course. Do your thing.”
He takes a handful of large strides forward and then plunges into the waves. As he swims away from me, I admire his perfect form. The man is clearly fit. He powers through the water like an Olympic swimmer. For my part, I take it much more slowly. I wade out and by the time it gets to my waist, I can barely breathe, so decide the only thing for it is either to chicken out, or take the plunge. I decide on the latter and give a gasp as I lie down and start to swim.
Holy shit, it’s cold. Soon though, I grow used to the temperature and turn onto my back, floating lazily as I look up at the azure sky. It’s a stunner of a day, and I’m relaxed for the first time in ages. Usually, I hold so much tension in my body I suffer from it physically. Sore neck, migraines, and tension headaches, back ache. I even get this annoying twitch in my eye some days when I’ve had hardly any sleep, and the nightmares have plagued me.
Today though, I might be a different woman. A free woman without a care in the world. How I long for the good old days when I used to get stressed over a parking fine, or a bad substitution in my online shopping. How innocent and naïve I was in the truest sense.
I had no idea what kind of darkness this world held. Despite being a court reporter, and sometimes having to note truly awful crimes, I still saw the good in people. I still believed people made mistakes and did terrible things, but that true evil was a rarity. Of course, we had some awful cases, but the majority were small scale things. A fight. A minor assault due to too much drink. Yes, they were unpleasant events, but not to the level where I thought those involved were truly evil.
Then evil came calling, up close and personal. Once my stalker found me, and wrecked my life, I made a new one. I moved away from family and friends. Got a PO Box so they could write, and a Pay As You Go phone that I paid cash for and wasn’t registered to any address. I stayed in touch that way.
On rare occasions, I’d go back home for a visit, but always unannounced so that no one knew I was coming, and I’d only stay for a night, two tops. I didn’t go out. I’d see my parents, sometimes my sister, and my best friend. I didn’t dare contact anyone else. And I was always a paranoid wreck when I left to head back to my hidey hole in Scotland. Always aware I might be bringing someone else with me, something else. The dark presence that had blighted my life.
It never happened though. I began to relax, about the threat from my nemesis at least, but since he’d cost me my job when I moved away, I had to find a way to make ends meet. I began to write crime thrillers, putting my past work to good use. It wasn’t enough knowledge though as the series developed, and so I reached out to a few people who worked as lawyers, prosecutors mostly, and a few detectives. I used a male pen name, and went through my publishing company to make my enquiries more legit, and then I found out that real depravity was far more common than my work in a small, local court would lead one to believe. The cases I learned of made my stomach turn.
I began to see danger everywhere, and the more I wrote, the worse it got.
And then he found me again.
Not wanting to dwell on these thoughts anymore, I turn onto my front and swim toward shore. I’m suddenly desperate for the warmth again, for the sun on my skin, burning the fear away. As I reach the shallows, I put my legs down and scrabble for a moment as I try to find my footing, and then I’m on solid ground, wading through the water.
Nearing the edge of the ocean, I cry out as sharp pain pierces the soft fleshy sole of my foot. “Jesus!”
I stop and awkwardly balance on one foot as I try to see what has happened. I can’t though, and I risk falling over, so I try to put my foot down, but once again pain spears through me. I take two steps forward, balancing on my tippy-toes on the injured foot.
A warm weight grabs me around my middle, and I find myself leaning against something as solid as a tree. I look to my right, and Reece has his arm around me, tucking me in to his side.
“What happened?” he rumbles, his deep voice vibrating through me.
“I don’t know. I wonder if I stood on a sharp stone or a shell or something? Cut my foot.”
We get to where the tiny waves break on the shoreline and I hop up the sand, holding onto Reece for support. Once we reach the towels, I sit down with his help and turn my foot up to look.
“Oh, God.” The world tilts for a moment as I stare at my foot.
A huge shard of glass is stuck in my sole, blood streaming out of it.
“Shit.” Reece bends down and gently lifts my foot, taking a closer look. “Fuck, this looks bad.”
“How bad?”
“Hospital bad.”
“Oh, no. I’ll have to give my name.”
He knows exactly what that means. We’ve gotten ourselves some breathing space, and now I will have to go to a busy place, give my name, the place we are staying, it will be on their records.
“Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. I know some first aid, but Ethan and Luka both know a lot more than me. We’ll get you back home and Facetime them, see if we can get hold of either of them. If we can, then we can ask them if this is fixable at home. There’s a decent First Aid Kit in the house, I saw it last night when I was checking the place out. If they say you need a hospital though, we’ll have to risk it. Sound like a plan?”
I nod at him and am determined not to cry. It hurts, bad, but I’m a big girl, and I suck it up. Reece starts gathering everything up and putting it in the bags, including my sandals. Last, he pulls me to my feet, once more tucking me into his side as he rolls the towels up and shoves them into the bag I brought with me. He slings my hot pink, girly bag over his shoulder without a care in the world. I prepare myself to hop back to the house, leaning on him, when my feet leave the ground.
The world spins around me and I find myself hoisted in his arms. Instinctively, I wrap my hands around his neck, holding on. For a moment, time slows as I stare into his green eyes with their hint of something bluer and cooler. Then he’s all business, striding across the sand, heading for the road and our rental home beyond it.
He’s so strong. So strong, and despite my inner feminist raging against it, I love his physical prowess. Love giving in to someone else taking the lead. I’ve always been the one to have to get stuff done. Maybe it’s why I used to like being a bit dominated. Nothing full on, no BDSM clubs for me, but just a bit. It gave me a break from having to organize everyone.
Mum and Dad are lovely, gorgeous people, but they’re both utterly useless with money and anything practical. As a result, from being a teenager, I helped them muddle through, all too aware that we were always on the verge of losing the car, or having our utilities cut off. My sister, bless her, inherited their free-spirited ways, and she’s a bohemian beauty, but utterly incapable of surviving in the modern world. So, I helped them out regularly until I had to leave, and then I used my newfound wealth as soon as my books became a success to help them out some more.
Right now, my sister is doing a yoga retreat in India, and Mum and Dad are pony trekking in Mongolia. Yep, they are living their dream, and I’m hiding away, scared and alone. Not that I blame them for one second. They can’t do anything. My sis offered to come live with me when I left, but I didn’t want anyone else put in danger, and anyone familiar around me only made it more likely I’d be found. Although, of course, in the end, it was a fan who turned the screws on me and put me in mortal danger.
We reach the house, and Reece rummages around in the bag, pulling the keys out. He’d tossed them and his phone in there before heading into the sea.
With me still in his arms, he manages to open the door, and then carries me over the threshold. He still doesn’t put me down until we reach the huge leather sofa, then he gently deposits me on it.
“Stay,” he orders, as if I’m a dog. Then he’s gone.
A few minutes later, he returns with a glass of water for me, the First Aid Kit, which he places on the floor, and his iPad tucked under his arm.
“Right, let’s try Ethan first. It’s a better bet he’ll be in as I’m sure he wasn’t on the roster to work for the next two days.”
He opens the iPad, props it up in its case, and dials someone up on Facetime. After a long while of nothing but it ringing, he leans forward, finger extended, about to turn it off, when the screen pops up and a rugged male face appears.
The man frowns, and then grunts out a…”what?”
No, ‘hello’, or ‘how are you’. What a surly individual.
“Good day to you, too, sunshine,” Reece says. “I’ve been to the beach with Kate and she’s hurt herself. Stood on a big bit of glass in the ocean. Unfortunately, it hasn’t been worn down yet and it’s sharp…and in her foot. I’m not sure if we need the hospital or not, but I’d rather avoid it if we can.”
“Show me,” Mr. Sunshine demands.
Reece picks up my foot, as soft and gentle as if it were a new-born’s and holds it out to the camera on the tablet.
“Shit. Looks a bit gnarly to me. What have you got there, medical kit wise?”
Reece opens the first aid kit. “Lots of stuff. Painkillers. Gauze. Antiseptic cream, and antibiotic ointment. Antiseptic wash. Cotton pads. Plasters. Bandages.”
“Okay. Right, first things first, without touching the glass, irrigate the wound as best you can with the antiseptic wash. Is it a spray?”
Reece reads the bottle and nods. “Yep.”
He twists my foot and bends his head before spraying around the glass. I wince as the wash hits the wound, but it isn’t too painful.
“Okay,” Ethan says. “Now, you’re going to have to take the glass out. Good news is, it’s a big enough piece not to need messing around with tweezers. Bad news is, it’s a big piece. It may bleed a bit, or depending on the depth of the wound, need stitches. You’ll need to take it out and let me see.”
“Okay, baby, this will hurt.” Reece looks at me and gives me a smile, but all I can focus on is that he called me baby. And I liked it. A whole lot.
The way his deep, rich voice curled around the affectionate nickname. I tell myself it means nothing. He’s simply one of those guys who addresses women in such a way, but a part of me—small, lost, and so desperately in need of connection, wants it to be more.
The way he held me in his big arms as he carried me back from the beach had me melting. I’m a focused, organized, grown-up, forty-something professional. I don’t melt. Reece though, he’s got this vibe that’s too delicious for words. He’s all big, and hard, and yet he’s not like his friend here on the screen. He’s not hard in that way. His face is soft in repose, friendly. He’s seemingly laidback and easygoing. He reminds me of some big, happy dog everyone wants to be friends with, but who will rip your heart out if you threaten his owner.
I realize comparing him to a dog may not be the most flattering thing and smile to myself.
“I’m about to rip glass out of your foot, and you’re smiling.” Reece shakes his head, but his own mouth curls upwards.
For a moment, we simply smile at one another like two idiots. Maybe he’s feeling some attraction too?
“Come on, chop-chop. Time’s a wasting.” Ethan huffs from the screen, and I decide I officially don’t like him.
“What’s going on?” A soft female voice joins Ethan’s, and then a stunningly beautiful young woman pops up on the screen next to Ethan’s dark head.
Holy hell! Is she his wife? She’s gorgeous. And just like that all my silly, immature thoughts about anything happening with Reece pop and vanish. A burst balloon at a birthday party, they deflate until they look sad and dejected.
I’m such an idiot. As if a man like him would ever look the way of a woman like me. His friend is good looking, but not as astonishing looking as Reece and his wife is drop-dead gorgeous. And young! So young. I think there must be a big age difference between them. I tell myself I need to force down any stupid ideas of a connection with Reece and simply enjoy having his gorgeousness around for a while.
“Ooooh, ouch.” The beauty winces as Reece starts to gently pull the glass out of my foot, her blue eyes wide.
It hurts, quite a bit, but not as much as I’d feared. Once it’s out, Reece bends his head to inspect it.
“It’s not that deep and it’s not too long or wide either. Looks fairly clean.”
“Okay, here’s what you’re going to do. Clean it some more with a lot of water, then irrigate it well with the antiseptic spray. Then you need to dry it, carefully, with some sterile gauze, and dress it with a bandage. You’ll have to check it for a day or two.” Ethan is straight to the point.
“There’s some antibiotic cream in here, should I use that?” Reece asks.
“Nope. Not yet. If in a day or so it looks nasty in any way, then you want to get some on and at that point I am afraid it is a trip to the doctor’s. But if it’s healing okay, you don’t need it.”
“I hope it gets better,” the gorgeous blonde girl says. She smiles at me and gives a little wave and a laugh. “I’m Isla by the way.”
“Hi Isla. I’m Kate.”
“I know who you are, and I…I erm love your books.” She blushes sweetly, and then glances at Reece. “Look after her, you big lunk.”
“Of course.” Reece rolls his eyes. “Now bugger off, the pair of you.”
He snaps the lid closed and laughs.
“How did such a miserable man end up with a gorgeous young woman like her?” I ask.
“He’s a good guy when it comes down to it.” Reece is busy tending to my foot, and the conversation is a good distraction from the pain.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude about your friend. He seems a bit…dour.”
Reece laughs. “God, wait until you meet Liam. He makes Ethan look like the life and soul of the party.”
“His partner, Ethan’s I mean, seems so much younger.”
Reece had mentioned his team, and their partners but I couldn’t remember it all.
“His wife. And yeah, she is. They’ve all ended up with women a lot younger than them. Isla is the youngest though.”
So, these battle-hardened men like their women soft, and young, and all big blue eyes? It makes sense in a way, but it depresses me because it shows me I don’t have a chance with Reece.
“What are the other girlfriends, or wives, like?”
He pauses for a moment, mid-wipe of my foot, with some gauze. He’s drying it now after cleaning and irrigating it.
“Well, Cara is a bit…opinionated. She’s nice enough, but she has all these views, and she’s not afraid to share them. She’s with Luka, and honestly, I don’t understand how they work, but they do. Liam’s Missus, Abi, is…damaged.” He looks up at me and shakes his head. “It sounds an awful thing to say, but she’s been so badly treated, and I don’t think anyone gets over such a thing easily or quickly, if ever. I think you can see it in her eyes. She looks terrified to me, not on the surface, but deep down, you know? But then, it might be me imagining it.”
“Are they all as pretty as Isla?” I don’t know why I’m asking this.
“They’re all pretty, yeah, in their own way. Not my types, but I can see why my friends fell for them.”
“What’s your type?” I ask.
He falters for a moment, looks at me, and sighs. “I suppose my friends would tell you it’s glamorous, busty blondes. Although, I like brunettes too, but I suppose I’ve always gone for overtly feminine, glamorous women. I don’t know these days though. I keep wondering if I ought to look for something different in a woman because it hasn’t worked out too well for me in the past. I think I’ve been shallow to a degree. I’ve dated a lot of models, air hostesses, promotions girls, dancers…” He trails off. “I’m not judging them or anything, but for the last few years, I’ve wanted to settle down, and I suppose the women I date aren’t there yet. They’re often in their early twenties, and they don’t want that. A lot of them were chasing fame and fortune, too, so didn’t want a life stuck in Yorkshire.”
His answer hurts my heart a little, my pride a lot more. I knew I wasn’t even in his league, to hear it so clearly stings.
I force a smile. “Well, your friend has found happiness with someone a lot younger than him, maybe if you change the type of woman you go for, then the same can happen for you, too.”
He’s wrapping a bandage around my foot and he finishes it by using some medical tape to fasten it down.
“There, done.” He smiles at me.
I’m feeling deflated and I want some time to myself, so I make an excuse and head to my room to do some reading, and maybe if the muse smiles on me, some writing. I need to get Reece out of my head.