Rose rolled over in her bed, fretful. Shelby had called just an hour ago to tell her that Colt had been arrested for fighting. Shelby had some story about how the charges were trumped up, how the guys Colt chose to fight were agents of none other than Jared Chalke.

That part Rose totally believed. The part she was having trouble with was that Colt had such violent tendencies. It wasn’t like they had to pry the fight out of him.

Fighting was his choice.

And damn if she wasn’t mad at him for betraying her confidence like that.

That anger, mixed with worry over the sheriff’s treatment of Colt while he was in jail, made for a sleepless night. It made her own little bed seem awfully lonely, here in the dark.

She rolled over and threw back the covers. Padding to the kitchen, she decided on some tea. She went to the cupboard, rummaging around.

Elvira whined in her crate. Rose didn’t like leaving the dogs crated while she was up, but she was just having a cup of tea and then heading back to bed.

She heard a muffled sound. She turned and found the source: her cell phone was on the table, and it was lit up and vibrating.

Probably Colt, calling to say he was out of jail. She moved toward the phone, but it went dark before she reached it.

She hesitated, then left the phone where it was. If Colt wanted to apologize and explain himself, that could wait until the morning.

She made to turn back to the cupboard, but she heard a creak, high and out of place. She’d heard the house she rented make a lot of noises, creaking at night, but never this one.

She paused, listening. The noise didn’t come again though. She shook her head at her unwarranted paranoia and went to the cupboard.

She started about making her tea, filling the shiny silver kettle with water in the sink. She got goosebumps suddenly as she moved to the stove.

A glimpse of something dark moving behind her in the mirror-like surface of the kettle was all the warning Rose got. The dogs went nuts at the same time. She turned to scream, but an ice-cold hand clamped over her mouth.

“I said we’d see each other soon, didn’t I?” came Jared’s voice.

He held her arms with one hand, the other silencing her protests. He pressed his body against her back. She could feel his erection, which made her feel ill.

She screamed, which only made him more excited.

“I like it when you scream, Rosie,” he said. “You didn’t do enough of that last time.”

He sounded drunk. Drunk and angry.

She could hear the dogs scrabbling to get free. She had to fight like that now, like a dog struggling to be free.

She bit Jared’s hand, which made him drop his offensive hand from her mouth.

“What the fuck?” he hissed.

Before he could recover, she elbowed him in the ribs and stomped on his foot. He let go of her, and she ran to the front door.

“Rose—” he said in a warning tone, but she grabbed an umbrella and went after him.

She swung the umbrella with all her might, hitting him in the face, then on the arms that he brought up to defend himself.

There was a knock on the door.

“Rose?” came a muffled voice.

She paused for a second, recognizing Colt’s voice. Jared instantly fled to her bedroom as she flung open the front door.

“Rose, I— what’s wrong?” Colt asked as Rose threw herself into his arms, sobbing.

“Jared,” she said, trembling. “Jared’s in here!”

“What?” Colt said, stiffening in alarm. “Where?”

“I don’t know!” she said, then broke down into hysterical weeping.

“Okay. I want you to get in my truck, and lock the doors,” he said, pulling her back toward his vehicle. “I’ll check the house.”

She scrambled into the truck, and locked the doors. He gave her a last look, then headed inside.

Rose folded in on herself while she waited, holding her breath. Was Jared still inside? Worse, would he be waiting to hurt Colt?

She almost opened the door to warn him, then realized he was a freaking Navy SEAL. He was trained for hand to-hand-combat.

A minute later, he came out alone.

Her breath whooshed out of her lungs. She was relieved, but she didn’t want him to think she was crazy. She opened the door to the truck.

“I swear, he was in there—” she started, but his head shaking cut her off.

“There’s a window open, and signs that someone decided to leave that way in a hurry,” he said, reaching out for her.

Rose went into Colt’s arms, beyond glad that he believed her. Glad that he was in her life, actually. He was many things, but strong and protective were among the foremost.

She dried her tears as much as she could.

“What should I do?” she asked.

“If he was in your house, Rose, we have to call the police,” he said, grimacing. “I know that the sheriff isn’t on our side, but there has to be a legal record.”

She looked down at her sleep shirt. “Can you get me a pair of pajama pants?”

He smiled at her, though she’d seen more joyful expressions. “Okay. I’m going to go get your pants. My phone is in the truck, so would you mind summoning the police?”

She nodded, stepping back to the truck. She called 911, and was told that someone would be on the way. Colt came back out with pants for her, and she put them on in the truck.

“Is it okay if we let the dogs out?” he asked. “They’re really anxious to see you.”

She felt her heart give a squeeze. Somehow she’d ended up with a man that cared about her dogs as much as she did.

“Yeah, of course,” she said.

He went to let the dogs out, releasing them one by one. They all came to sit by the truck, and she jumped down to reassure them that she was fine. The wet tongues and wagging tails made her feel a little bit better in return.

She shivered. Not only was it getting close to Halloween, so the air was much colder, but the shivering was an aftereffect of her body releasing all that adrenaline.

Colt came back outside, leaving the front door open. He leaned against the truck while she petted the dogs. He looked around, vigilant; his gaze roving the yard.

She could tell that he wanted to search the backyard, but didn’t want to leave her. She didn’t want him to go either, so that was fine by her.

The patrol car pulled up, its headlights bright. Rose stood up, uncertain.

“Let me handle this, okay?” Colt said. He held out his hand to her, and she took it, grateful.

She swallowed and nodded. “Okay. Dogs, sit.”

Sheriff Thorn got out of his car, looking around. She’d forgot how much she loathed the sheriff, but she was reminded just now. It was the way he carried himself, that cocksure strut of his.

And the fact that he was Native American… somehow he turned that against her, despite the fact they had similar ancestry.

When they’d interacted before, he’d asked what her ancestry was, then insinuated that maybe she was racist against people who were pure white, as he’d called it.

Her jaw had dropped. The only thing she could say in defense was that she was half-white. It made her outraged that he’d insinuate that she would fabricate an assault as some sort of race retaliation, and that was before all the other horrible things he’d said.

Now he cocked his head, taking in the fact that she and Colt held hands. She saw the tiniest smirk on his face.

“What seems to be the problem here?” Sheriff Thorn drawled, adjusting his belt. He wasn’t a small man, so his belt had quite a bit of work to do.

“She was alone in the house. Jared Chalke broke in,” Colt said, keeping it simple. “I came over, and it scared him off. He climbed out the back window.”

The sheriff’s smirk turned into a grin.

“Jared Chalke, huh?” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t know why you’ve singled him out as a victim of your harassment, Ms. Elliott.”

“I—” she started, then Colt squeezed her hand again. She fell silent.

“We want to file a police report,” he said.

“I see. You want me to go look around inside, is that it?”

“Yes,” Colt said. She could feel the cords in his body growing tense. He was angry, but he didn’t let it show.

“Let me ask you something,” the sheriff said. “If I go look in your recycling bin, am I going to find liquor bottles?”

Rose wrinkled her nose, taken aback.

“From two weeks ago, yes,” she answered.

“Uh-huh. Look, I think this is pretty cut and dry. You were drinking. You imagined—”

“I didn’t imagine him!” she cried.

He continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted.

“You imagined Jared, you got scared. Told your boyfriend here that Jared had been in your house.”

“I didn’t make anything up!” she protested.

“I’m going to do you both a favor, and pretend like this call never happened.”

“He was in my house,” she said weakly.

“Goodnight, Miss Elliott,” he said, turning and heading back to his car. They stood and watched the car back out and head down the road.

“It’s all right,” Colt said, reaching out and pulling her in for a hug.

She didn’t believe him, but there wasn’t any point in saying so.

“Hey,” Colt said, tipping her chin up. “You get in the truck, and get the dogs in, too. I’ll go grab some clean clothes and the cats and your keys. You can stay with me as long as you want, okay?”

She looked up at him, his hazel eyes intent. She leaned in and kissed him, soft and gentle, then turned away.

“Okay, dogs. Up up!” she said, gesturing toward his truck.

She heard him walk away as she urged the dogs into the cab. She might be facing troubles on all sides at the moment, but at least she had Colt.

Climbing in after the dogs, she wrapped her arms around herself and tried not to imagine what would have happened if he hadn’t have been here.