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If it was in his power to make this woman safe and keep her smiling, he absolutely would.

The elevator doors parted on Level 3 with a tired chime. Cold air rolled in, edged with exhaust and the metallic tang of road salt. Fluorescents buzzed overhead, throwing long slices of light across a grid of concrete pillars and oil-darkened tire marks. Daniel stepped out first to make sure their path was clear, then tugged on Polly’s gloved hand.

Pirate trotted at Daniel’s blind side, the dog’s paws clicking against the concrete. His breath fogged in front of him, ears pricked, as he scanned the dim rows ahead. Daniel’s own instincts matched the dog’s—alert, on edge.

“Thai or barbecue?” Daniel asked, eyeing the stairs to make sure no one was coming up behind them.

“Barbecue,” Polly answered, her voice small but warm as she tucked a strand of hair beneath the edge of her stocking cap. “I promised Luna I’d bring her a bite.”

She smiled, and for a heartbeat, everything inside Daniel went still. He was surprised at just how much he’d admitted to her about his feelings during their text conversation earlier. But he’d meant every word. And she seemed okay with that. Okay with his efforts to be the man in her life.

He led her toward his truck, parked near the center of the middle aisle. The change in shift noises hung heavy in the air around them—muted conversations, distant engines, the slam of a car door somewhere below them. Normal noises, but his pulse didn’t trust them. Pirate’s tail flicked once, the dog’s low rumble a half growl of warning.

“Easy, boy,” Daniel murmured, scanning the shadows between each car and concrete pillar. His scars prickled with the familiar static that foretold of danger, that sixth sense that had kept him alive overseas.

Then he saw the shape. He felt Polly’s stride stutter beside him.

A man leaned against the tailgate of Daniel’s truck, half lit by the failing fluorescent above. Too casual. Too still. The dark outline of scrubs beneath an unzipped puffy winter coat. A hospital badge glinted from the lanyard around his neck when he shifted.

Tate Emery.

Creepy Guy.

Daniel’s body reacted before his brain caught up—breath sharp, heartbeat hammering against ribs. His vision tunneled for a split second, past and present bleeding together—a narrow alley, the stench of diesel and blood, a man with a detonator in hand, and so, so many hostiles.

No. Not there. Not now.

He blinked, forcing the image away. The hard concrete under his boots was real. The leash in his hand was real. The woman beside him—his focus—was real.

“Tate,” Polly whispered, her voice barely audible. “What is he doing here? How did he get here before us?”

“Is that what the guy outside the cafeteria was wearing?”

“No. But all he had to do was change his coat and pull his hood up. I can’t say for sure it was Tate.”

“And you can’t say it wasn’t.” Daniel’s hand found her elbow. “Stay behind me. On my right side where I can see you.” He handed her Pirate’s leash. “Hold him tight. If anything happens, you run to that elevator and don’t look back.”

“I’m not leaving you—”

“You’ll do what I say, when I say it. Understood?”

Her fingers trembled as they took the leash, but her chin lifted. “Okay.”

He knew he’d sounded way too gruff, that she wasn’t a man under his command charging straight into an ambush. But he needed her to have a plan B in case he failed to get rid of the threat here.

“We meet again.” Tate’s greeting didn’t include Daniel.

“You mean, you’re lying in ambush,” Daniel grumbled.

“No disrespect, big guy, but I’m here to see Polly.” Tate pushed off the truck, his soft-soled shoes noiseless against the concrete. He held a coffee cup with a plastic lid—hospital cafeteria logo printed on the side. “You left before I could give you this,” he said, looking right past Daniel as if he wasn’t there, and smiling with an ease that didn’t touch his eyes. “I made sure it was a fresh pot, and I doctored it up just the way you like it. All sweet and milky.”

Daniel’s gut twisted. He knows how she takes her coffee.

“She’s not interested,” Daniel said evenly, demanding the man focus on him and not her. “Take the cup and step away from my truck.”

And yeah, somewhere along the way, this creep had studied them long enough to be able to identify his truck.

Tate looked amused, his gaze flicking to Polly. “Don’t know what you see in this brute.”