Page 2 of Protect My Heart

Still, I know who I need to call. I’d cross my fingers that Linda or Janelle would answer, but that would require me to let go of my towel, which is not happening. So I dial the non-emergency number at the firehouse and pray that my brother, Garrett, doesn’t answer the phone.

“Saddle Creek Fire Station, how can I help you?” a hypnotically deep and ridiculously masculine voice answers.

My brain short circuits for a minute because I do not recognize this voice. “Who is this?” I ask.

A slight chuckle. “Who is this?”

I don’t have time for this nonsense. “Is Janelle or Linda around?”

“Not at the moment. Can I help you with something?” he asks.

“What about Enrique? Is he working today?”

“Ma’am, I am not at liberty to hand out working schedules of the city’s employees. Did you need something?”

I blow out a frustrated breath. “I am currently stuck on my balcony. Locked out, if you will. I do not want this to be a formal call though.” I pause and I know he’s about to give me some other statement about what he’s unable to do, blah, blah, blah. So I venture, “This is Daphne Whitmore; I’m Garrett’s sister. I would just rather not announce this little snafu to him or any other family member.”

“I understand. I have two younger sisters myself.”

“See, so you understand my desire to save face and not be ridiculed for all eternity.”

He gives a low rumble of a chuckle that goes straight to my lady bits.

“I think I can solve your problem, Ms. Whitmore.”

Holy shit. Yeah, I’m guessing this stranger and his sexy as fuck voice could solve a lot of problems I have.

I’m about to list off them off when he clears his throat.

“I just need your address.”

Right. Because I’m trapped on my balcony and need to get back into my apartment.

I give it to him and hang up, hoping I’m not going to regret having a complete stranger rescue me. I mean technically it is his job to handle such heroic endeavors, but my request that he keep it a secret is likely unconventional. But whatever. I’ll do anything to keep this story from getting to my family.

I pace the small length of my balcony, then my phone buzzes against my palm.

Thankfully it’s just a text from my cousin, Jade. She’s like an older sister to me and she would think my current situation is hilarious. I could have even called her to rescue me, but she’d never keep this story to herself.

Through the window of my porch door, I see my front door open and then an enormous man steps inside. He’s not wearing bunker gear; instead, he’s got on a pair of department-issued pants and a t-shirt with the station emblem on the left pocket area.

He’s tall and broad, clean-shaven and blonde, with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. It occurs to me that I can see them clearly because he’s standing at the door staring back at me. And if I can see him so easily then he can see me too.

Oh shit.

chapter two

Fletcher

I stare out the patio window at the towel-wrapped goddess. Her right hip and thigh are playing peek-a-boo with me every time she moves. Brown hair is partially tied up in a messy knot on the top of her head, the rest brushes against her shoulders. She peers back at me with smoky grey eyes.

Her lips part and I’m completely enchanted.

“Can you unlock the door?” she asks.

Fuck.

What is wrong with me?