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Not happening.

He turned and walked swiftly out of the bathroom, slowing halfway down the hallway as he realized she was struggling to keep up. He hated that. Hated that she was hurt. So, his voice might have been a bit gruffer than he’d intended when he turned back to her at the front door.

“Lock this door behind me and get yourself into bed immediately. Good night.” He opened the door then shut it and waited until he heard the lock click into place. And if he heard a quiet good night come through the door then he put it down to his imagination.

4

She was dead on her feet.

She didn’t even know it was possible to be this tired and still function. After Kent left in the early hours of this morning, she’d slipped into bed, grabbed Bun-bun, her stuffed rabbit toy, and fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. When her alarm went off it had felt like a bad dream, but she’d managed to force herself out of bed and into the shower. Her cuts had stung like crazy as the water hit them, her knees were starting to bruise and her side was turning a puke green color.

Awesome.

She’d shuffled through her routine, and stumbled her way outside to find an extremely hot guy leaning against her car in the driveway. He’d straightened when he saw her, watching her walk towards him. It wasn’t fully light out, so she hoped he couldn’t see her wince as she moved but somehow, she thought he did. She figured that being one of Kent’s ‘boys’ he didn’t miss much. She’d seen a number of them over the years she’d been working at the diner, and they all had this dangerous, watchful thing going on. No doubt he was some sort of superhero with excellent night vision, amazing abs and enough testosterone to power a jet engine.

“Hi, I’m Abby,” she introduced herself as she grew closer. She stopped a few feet away, aware that he was still standing between her and the driver’s door of her car.

“I know,” he drawled. What sort of accent was that?

She blushed. Of course, he knew who she was. Dumb ass.

“I’m Macca. You don’t need to be afraid of me,” he said suddenly, surprising her.

She blinked, pushed her shoulders back. “I know.”

She sensed amusement coming from him, but told herself she had to have imagined it. He didn’t appear to be the type to be amused by much. He had wide shoulders, stood at least a foot taller than she did and had a neatly-trimmed beard. She wasn’t much into beards, but on him it looked hot. She couldn’t see much more in the semi-dark.

“Street lights here aren’t very good,” she muttered. You’re acting like an idiot. “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting long. You should have knocked on the door and come in where it was warm.”

He tensed. “You shouldn’t ever let a strange man into your house when you’re alone.”

She sucked in a breath. “You work for Kent, right?”

“I do.”

“So...”

“Doesn’t matter who I work for. You don’t know me; you don’t let me into your house. That’s your safe place. Now, someone intent on real harm, they’d probably find a way to get inside, but you don’t make it easy and invite them in, got me?”

She got that he was scaring the crap out of her.

“You think someone could break into my house?” She wished she hadn’t asked as soon as she said it. He was right, it was her safe place. But of course, someone could easily get in. She’d seen enough crime shows to know that. Hell, it was one of the reasons she slept with a police baton by her bed.

He shrugged. “Sure. You got no security system to scare them off. Your door doesn’t even have a deadbolt on it. No locks on your windows. Lighting outside ain’t good and your neighbors don’t strike me as the type to come running if they hear a ruckus.”

Well, she couldn’t argue with that. She’d lived here for a long time and her neighbors had changed so many times that she had given up trying to keep up.

“How do you know what sort of locks are on my door and windows?” she whispered. Now he was really scaring her.

“Chief told me,” he said easily. “And now I’ve scared you.”

“Well...umm...yeah.” What was going on here? She’d thought he was just here to drop off her car, not lecture her.

And why had Kent told him that? Why had Kent even noticed? She guessed as a security specialist it was his job to notice. She wasn’t certain if that made her feel better or worse.

“Good,” he replied, surprising her. “A single, attractive female living alone can’t be too careful. So, don’t ever invite me or any bloke you don’t know into your house when you’re alone, understand?”

And now she was getting a lecture. What accent was that? Australian? “Oh, you don’t need to worry about that.”