Page 44 of Protecting Love

“Because you paint a calm and in-control persona, but those who know you well know that isn’t always the case,” her mother said gently.

“That’s right. But I had it handled until he swiped everything on Molly’s desk onto the floor. She jumped back and moved closer to me. He finally left. It was seeing Molly’s fear that got to me.”

“Bullshit,” her mother said. “Don’t lie to me.”

She closed her eyes and put her head on the back of the chair. “Fine. I was rattled. I was grateful that I wasn’t alone and even more grateful that London wasn’t here.”

“Your sister would have scared him right out the door.”

She let out a soft laugh. “Yeah. I don’t have her courage.”

“Don’t do that to yourself. Both my girls have their own strengths. You balance each other and know it.”

“I do. But it’s all good now. West had cameras installed last Monday when he found out about it.”

“I want to know why he didn’t find out for days,” her mother said. “And why you weren’t the one to tell him.”

If she was going to confess, she had to tell it all.

“Because I wasn’t going to bother West on a Friday over this. Then London told Spencer and it was taken out of my hands.”

She’d already gotten enough grief from West about it. Then Braylon. Nelson even came down to give her a hard time.

Her parents were so worried about the two of them moving here.

Maybe she was a tad bit nervous over it too. But there were enough people looking out for them. Or looking in on them.

And now Fletcher was added to the list.

The last person she wanted to see more of and in a situation like this. But he was only doing his job.

Even if it was irritating.

The way he’d walked into the conference room in his tailored shirt and pressed slacks. Locked, loaded and in charge. Those dark eyes zeroing onto hers, not interrogating so much as studying, like he was trying to read straight through her skin.

He unnerved her more than what Rick had done.

His presence made the walls seem closer. Made her skin feel tight and itchy, even a little sweaty.

She hated that her body noticed him before her brain had time to protest. And hated even more she was remembering every moment of him being here last week.

It was ridiculous. Annoying. Entirely unwelcome.

Fletcher Wilcox shouldn’t be added to her list of problems. He was security. A temporary presence. A professional necessity she hadn’t asked for and didn’t need to be reacting to at all.

But she was reacting.

He had stood there like a fixture in the room. Dark, solid, and immovable. Broad shoulders filling the doorway before he’d taken a seat, his posture relaxed but alert, like nothing could surprise him and nothing got past him either.

He didn’t pace. Didn’t fidget. Didn’t waste movement. He simply was.

Like she tried to be. Only around him, she failed at it miserably.

Then she resented how her pulse was steadier the moment he arrived. The air felt heavier, as if grounded with him in it. Safer, if she were being honest. That irritated her more than the attraction.

And she definitely didn’t want to acknowledge how good he looked doing absolutely nothing. Brown hair cropped just enough to look crisp. His clothes weren’t flashy, but expensive in that quiet, dangerous way that said he didn’t dress to impress, only to function.

Which somehow made it worse.