I accepted their thanks while their daughter just stood there looking at me like I was a science project. What the fuck! I made my escape and got the hell out of dodge. For some reason unbeknownst to me, I had to take one last look back at her. That fucking feeling again.

She was staring at me through the damn glass door with that stupefied look on her face. I booked it to my truck and climbed in. I raced back to my place in twenty minutes and only breathed easy again when I walked into the cabin.

I gave Harley’s horny ass a glare. “You were after that bitch down the street again weren’t you?” He gave me his guilty face with his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth and that puppy dog look in his eyes.

“Horny sod. Her owner’s gonna shoot your ass the next time he catches you over there.” Little fucker had bred the people’s prize winning dog a year ago. No matter what we do we can’t keep those two apart.

He whined in his throat and walked over to his bowl. I fed him and cussed his ass out. If he’d been home he would’ve eaten those two assholes, saved the girl and left my ass out of it.

Harley loves that shit. Damsels in distress, is his favorite daydream. He kept giving me looks like I’d done some shit wrong by handling that shit alone.

I grabbed a beer and headed out to my porch to enjoy the early morning air and get the stench of the city off me and settle my brain down.

The late night-early morning was cool and calm. The breeze was a welcomed change after the heat of the day before as I sipped my beer and tried to forget the last couple of hours.

I saw her eyes, the way they’d looked at the station, in my mind’s eye. They were a pure bottle green color with dark pupils that stood out in her tanned face with the pouty blush pink lips.

Her blonde hair had been pulled up in a ponytail so I couldn’t catch the actual shade. As I brought her face back to memory something strange started happening to me.

Something I wouldn’t have expected in a million years. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I rubbed my hand over my chest to settle down the wild beating of my heart as I looked into the night for answers.

I slammed the front legs of my chair back to the floor from where I’d been balancing them in the air and looking down at my lap, and faced what I’d been avoiding since I got that feeling earlier.

My dick was hard and long beneath my zipper. Fucking pervert! Why the fuck is this happening to me? Why her, why now? I felt almost sick at my body’s reaction.

I had no plans on going anywhere near her jailbait ass so I wasn’t worried. That didn’t stop my mind from wandering to her every once in a while until the guilt made me go inside and call my brother. “How old is that girl?”

“What girl?”

“The one I saved tonight you ass.”

“Oh Cassie? She’s twenty three why?” Fuck this shit.

“No she isn’t. That girl is sixteen years old if she’s a day.”

“She looks young but she’s not, and she’s smart too. Why? You interested?” That perked his nosy ass right the fuck up.

“In what? I was just asking. So what’s going to happen now? Or is she not going to press charges?” She looks like the type. Probably afraid of her own damn shadow. Princess!

“Are you serious, do you not know who she is?”

“Am I supposed to?”

“Yes, her family owns the town.” How the fuck do you own a town?

“I see, thanks for telling me.”

I started to hang up but I should’ve known he wasn’t done. Little shit takes every opportunity to annoy my ass.

“You can always call her and see how she’s doing if you’re so interested. They left their number for you to call.”

“Piss off.” I hung up on his laughing ass and went back out on the porch, rubbing at that strange feeling in my gut. Harley picked up his head from his trough and gave me a look.

“I don’t need to take shit from you.” He went back to his food after giving me a very humanlike look.

Twenty-three huh. Fuck!

I sipped my morning coffee contemplating once again if I should drive out there or not. The thought of returning to the scene of my almost demise broke me out in a cold sweat, but I really felt the urge to go see my knight in shining armor.

His eyes were like a beacon in my mind. So clear, so bright, even in the dark. And with his dusty reddish blonde hair they just popped in that unbelievably handsome face of his.

I don’t think I’d ever seen a more well put together man before. His body was a work of art, under the fitted tee and jeans and I bemoaned the fact that I’d been too scared to enjoy his naked chest when he came to my rescue. Darn!

While my first impression of him had been that of a mountain man, the way he came out of the dark and his gruff manner, the man who came down to the station was a total dreamboat.

After the shock had worn off, after I’d gotten over the fear of just how much danger I’d been in, I was able to clear my mind and focus more on the man who’d come to my rescue.

And wouldn’t you know, the more I thought about him, the less afraid I became. Just the memory of his eyes was enough to ease the raw nerves that threatened to have me hiding in my room in a closet curled up in the fetal position.

I replayed everything in my head. From the moment he came to my rescue to my first real look at him down at the station. But the thing that stuck with me most, was that last look that he’d thrown over his shoulder as he walked away.

He seemed, damaged…no that’s not the right word. It was more like he was running away from something and the way he’d chafed at my parents’ thanks was also very telling. If I didn’t find it so sad it would’ve been laughable.

The discomfort that had been so obvious to me though it had gone completely over my parents’ heads, was a sure sign that there was something going on behind those eyes. Something that touched me deep inside.

As a psych major I tend to pick up on the emotions of others rather easily. I’ve never felt this vulnerable before though, never let myself be this bothered by another’s pain. If I did that then I wouldn’t be very good at my chosen profession.

But for some insane reason it bothers me that he seems so wounded. Not only that, but I have the inexplicable feeling that he needs me. That somehow I can make the sadness in his eyes go away.

It’s the strangest thing, because from what I recall the strong, take charge man who’d stood between me, and danger the night before didn’t quite come across as the needy type.

In fact the way he’d been so obviously uncomfortable with mine and my parents’ gratitude, the way he’d all but ran out the door, said that he would rather be left alone.

Still I couldn’t shake the feeling that last night was not the last time I’d see him. I feel almost compelled to search him out, to see where this feeling of knowing would go. It’s the first time I’ve felt anything this strong, or have something stay on my mind this long.

It’s not that I’m a callous person, or someone who doesn’t understand or care about the plight of others. But I’d been so sheltered all my life that this stuff was all new to me. And the events of the night before were definitely not part of my normal.

If I didn’t know better, I could almost believe that I was focusing on him as hard as I am to avoid thinking about the absolute horror of the situation I’d found myself in last night.

But in fact, I’d hardly spent any time thinking about the two men at all, and had been solely focused on the enigmatic man who’d come to my rescue. I’m not sure if that was a good thing or not.

Then again it’s not like I have much of a choice. My mind has chosen to go where it wants to and so far it’s chosen to completely blank out the whole sordid ordeal and stay stuck instead on the man who’d followed me into my dreams.

“Are you feeling okay dear?” Mom’s voice broke into my thoughts, reminding me that I was not alone. I’d been so lost in my head I’d forgotten that she was still here.

She put her hand on my forehead and declared me warm to the touch. I nibbled on the corner of a slice of toast and ignored her words since I had a pretty good idea why I was fever warm and it had nothing to do with me being sick.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I shook my head no, knowing that it was pointless, that she would push until she got what she wanted. Mom is a great advocate for communication.

She thinks that there’s nothing that can’t be fixed by getting it all out in the open. Usually I’d agree with her, but right now I didn’t want to waste time dwelling on what those boys had done, or were about to do to me.

I’d been afraid to close my eyes last night lest I relived the attack. But instead my night and dreams had been filled with him. His scent, his strength; his eyes. Always his eyes. And the look in them when he looked back at me. Will I ever get them out of my head?

I knew his name now, had been saying it to myself over and over again ever since waking up this morning. Braden Scott. Even his name sounded manly, strong. Braden and Cassie Scott. I’ve gone off the deep end, or reverted back to middle school.

That fluttery feeling was back again. It had appeared the first time I got a glimpse of him at the station the night before. With better lighting and no fear to cloud my judgment I was finally able to see the man beneath the brawn.

That instant feeling of knowing had hit me in the gut and hours later, after a night spent dreaming of being in his arms, the feeling was still there, maybe a little stronger even.

I’d spent a good part of the night before sleep finally took me, dissecting my feelings and trying to find the answers to what was going on with me. I knew it wasn’t good to dwell too deeply on anything following an experience like the one I had, but there was no getting away from my own thoughts.

I’m big on being blatantly honest with myself, if only in my head. But since I’d never experienced anything like what happened the night before, it was hard to get a real perspective. To know what was real and what was make believe. Like if maybe I’d built him up in my head.

So much had happened in the hour or so of our acquaintance. From me almost losing my life at the hands of those thugs, to finding myself entranced by Braden Scott in a way that I’ve never known before.

Of course I have to pick it all apart. I’m not one to just rush into things, especially when it comes to matters of the heart, or any situation where there’s a chance of me getting hurt.

So I questioned my feelings, taking them out one by one and looking at this thing from all angles. Were those feelings that I carried with me through the night real? Had I met the first man who’d made my heart beat faster?

Or could it simply be a case of hero worship for the man who’d saved me? Was I projecting? These were all the things I would ask a patient who came to me with the same symptoms.