Page 5 of My Girl to Protect
The vehicle rolls slowly across the gravel before coming to a stop near the front of the building. I lean a shoulder against the window frame and watch him through the glass. I haven’t spent much time around the man since moving in—a few brief conversations. A nod here and there. That’s about it. Not because he’s unfriendly. From everything I’ve heard, Wilder’s a solid guy. Zane told me plenty about him before I came here. About how he’d gotten out of prison and taken a broken-down building and rebuilt it into this place. A quiet refuge for people like me who needed a second chance.
I respect that. Anyone who can build something like this from the ground up earns it. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking for friends. I didn’t come here for that.
He climbs out, shutting the door with a quiet thud that barely carries through the glass. He moves like a man who’s used to being aware of his surroundings—his eyes sweep the property once without looking like he’s doing it. Habit. I know because I have it too.
He opens the passenger door, and Millie gets out. She smiles up at him like he’s the only person in her world, and I know immediately that it’s my cue to look away. I straighten slightly, ready to step back from the window.
Then the rear door opens.
And everything stops.
A third person climbs out. For a second, I forget how to breathe.
She stands there beside the truck, clutching a worn duffel bag to her chest like it’s the only thing anchoring her to the ground.
Small. Fragile. But that’s not what hits me first. It’s her face—pale as porcelain, dirty blond hair falling to her shoulders, and large round eyes I can’t quite see from here but already want to. I want to know what’s in them.
Her fears. Her pain. Hell, what makes her tick.
Why am I even thinking about her?
But it’s like I’m glued in place. Unable to move. I watch her look around, her gaze moving across the property—slowly, cautious, taking in the building, the windows, the quiet yard like she’s deciding whether to believe in it.
Attraction comes first. Immediate. Primal. But it’s not the only thing. Something deeper follows right behind it. Possessive. Protective. The instinct lands hard in my chest, fast and undeniable, like my body has already decided something my brain hasn’t caught up to yet.
My gaze narrows slightly. I don’t want this. I didn’t come here for this. Whatever I feel needs to be buried. She doesn’t deserve a man like me—someone with baggage, with his own demons. Millie says something to her. Then she disappears into the building.
I’m still standing at the window, staring at the empty space where she stood. The nightmare’s gone—somewhere in watching her, the tension finally bleeds out of me. The next time I close my eyes, sleep takes me without a fight.
***
The shrill vibration of my phone cuts through the quiet. I notice faint light streaming in from the window—meaning I actually slept for more than two hours.
I glance down at the nightstand. Zane’s name flashes across the screen. I pick it up on the second ring. “Walker.”
“Jesus,” Zane’s voice comes through immediately. “You answer the phone like you’re still in the damn Army.”
My mouth twitches faintly. “Old habits.”
“Yeah, well, try not to sound like you’re about to kick down a door next time.”
I lean back against the wall beside the window. “What’s up?”
“Just checking on you.” I can practically hear the grin in his voice. “Figured I’d see how my favorite tenant is settling into my old place.”
My gaze circles the room. Bare and tidy. “It’s good,” I say simply.
“Yeah?”
“Clean. Quiet.”
“Exactly why I told you about it.” He pauses. “So, Wilder House treating you alright?”
“It is.”
A faint chuckle comes through the line. “Wilder keeping the place running smooth?”
“Seems like it.”
