Page 9 of Ferocious Protector

Still, no dates. That was the rule, and I do not break my own rules, ever. No dates, just a few one-night stands averaging one a year. No matter what the town gossips want to say about me, at least I know my heart won’t get shattered again.

But my body and brain already know there’s something far different about Blake. It’s not just his good looks, or the way he dances or takes me in bed. It’s all of him, his gentlemanly ways, his take charge personality, and lord help me all of it rolled into one delicious man. How in the world am I supposed to resist this?

My good sense finally kicks in. Because he’s here for a few days, for a wedding, and then he’s going to be the one saying it’s been fun, see you later.

I inhale a deep breath, finish washing up and towel my skin dry before wrapping my hair in a towel and getting a fresh one to cover myself with. I’ve clearly gotten far too wrapped up in this man. Time to remedy it before he gets the wrong idea.

I’m all set to tell him just that but when I come out, he’s nowhere to be seen. I gather my clothes and get dressed. I’ve just put my heels on when he walks back in the door. With a huge arrangement of flowers.

My heart pounds in my chest. Who is this man and why is he absolutely messing with my head?

Blake closes the distance. “I went downstairs to make a call. They were selling them in the lobby, fundraiser of some sort. I thought you might like some,” Blake says, taking an unused coffee carafe on the desk into the bathroom and returning to the room with it filled with water.

He dumps the little freshening packet into the water and cuts the band from the flowers with a pocketknife before placing the delicate blooms gently into their new home.

Every word I was going to say is gone, wiped from my feeble memory, because not one man in my entire life has ever bought me a flower, not one, not two and certainly not the bouquet sitting before me as pretty as can be. My voice cracks. “I love them. Thank you.”

He kisses me gently on the lips. “Let’s go, we have the whole day ahead of us.”

9

Blake

Patti Ann gives me the lay of the land as she drives. “Last house on the end of this road is mine.”

She drives up to a cute little bungalow style home. “Very nice,” I say as she pulls into the driveway in her white Jeep Renegade.

“It was my aunt’s before she passed away. I spent a lot of time here growing up and it seemed like it was just meant to be. The memories were great, and the price was right.”

I follow her to the door but grab her hand before it touches the knob of the partially open door. “Wait, it’s open.”

Her voice shakes. “Someone’s been here.”

My protective instincts kick in. “Stay behind me. They were probably here last night, but let’s just be sure.” I draw the pistol from the back waistband of my pants, and her eyes go wide. “Precautionary in our line of work. Nothing to worry about. Just stay on my hip.”

Patti Ann nods but her eyes are still fearful. An invasion of your personal space can do that to a person. When I come face to face with Tucker again, he and whoever he’s working for are going to deal with me because I know for damn sure it wasn’t Tucker. Not in the condition he was in last night.

Her small hand grasps the back of my shirt. I find it oddly comforting to know she’s right there, doing exactly as I asked, wanting me to keep her safe.

I walk through the lower level, scanning the small dining and living room, decorated with a mismatch of new and old before heading up the stairs. I scan the loft-style space, which looks to have been recently remodeled from two bedrooms to a large suite with a walk-in closet. After checking everything, making sure to touch nothing, I gesture to the closet. “Why don’t you change and grab a bag while I call the guys. Once you’re dressed, we can call your sheriff. He’ll want to sweep for prints and the like so try to open doors by the sides not the handles if you can.”

She looks around. “Doesn’t look like a thing is out of place. Still, it’s creepy to think that someone was in your home.”

I don’t doubt it feels creepy to say the least. She goes into her closet and comes back out with tears running down her face.

That look makes my blood pump hard. “What’s wrong?”

Patti Ann crooks a finger, and I follow her back into the walk-in space. She points into the drawer where a ton of folded lacy panties lie and points to a note. “Don’t forget who you belong to.”

I pull out a pair of panties on the opposite side of the drawer, and a fresh bra. “Go put these on and change your clothes. We’re leaving, right now.”

She nods, grabbing a pair of folded jeans from one of the shelves and a top from a hanger before walking toward the adjacent bathroom. It’s not long before she comes out with a makeup kit, pulls a pair of socks and pointed brown boots on, grabs a couple more changes of clothes, a dress from the hanger and a pair of sandals and a purse, and pushes them into a bag. “That’s all I need. Let’s go.”

“I’ll drive.”

She gives me a look.

“Just in case we’re followed.” She nods, handing me her keys. The minute we’re back in her Renegade and she’s securely fastened I connect with Cole. “We’re on our way out to your place but wanted to let you guys know before we call the sheriff that someone broke into Patti Ann’s place last night. He also sent her some messages that make it evident he’s working with the Chicago boys.”