by Erin Bevan
“No.” She whipped around fast on her heels. “No guns, Tyler. I had one pointed at my head a week ago, and I thought—no, I knew—it was going to be what killed me. No guns.”
His jaw clenched. “He pointed one at your head?” Not only did that bastard abuse her physically and emotionally, but also threatened to kill her with the means to follow through. Son of a bitch needed to pay.
He took a few slow steps closer, reeling in his anger. “I’m …” He forced himself to stay calm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
She turned back toward the doors. Her shoulders slumped. “I know. I’m sorry for getting so upset. What Duke did wasn’t your fault.”
The last thing he wanted was for her to be sorry. For anything.
“No, it’s okay. You have a right to your feelings, and I’m glad you expressed them.” He tried to relax the tension in his face and took a few steps closer until he stood beside her. “No guns, I agree, but at least let me teach you some self-defense moves. I’ll be around you when I can to protect you, but in the event I’m not, I’d like to know you can handle yourself.”
“Self-defense.” She said the words like she was rolling the idea around in her mind. “Okay.” Nodding, she said, “That’s reasonable.”
“Great. Well then, I’ll just wash up, and we can get started.”
“Right now?”
“You’re tired of being inside aren’t you?”
“Extremely.”
“Then, let’s do it.”
The grass crunched under Annie’s sneakers. A sound she’d almost forgotten. She’d hardly seen outside all week. Every once in a while, she would walk out to the dock, let Al splash in the water, but being outside—alone—scared her. Even with her furry protector. The likelihood anyone stood by peeking through the trees spying on her was slim, but with Duke, she never knew.
“Okay, are you ready?” Tyler walked up next to her.
The vast green openness around her, the creek, the forest, the embankment, she took it all in and inhaled its beauty as a small, nagging feeling pricked the back of her mind. “Do you think we’re safe out here?”
He glanced around the horizon, scanning the trees. “I think we’re as safe as can be. And that’s why we’re out here. To make sure you stay that way. Besides, Al will alert us if he hears something.”
She glanced at the dog. He had his belly up in the air, basking in the sun. “I don’t think he’s worried about us.” She pointed.
He followed her finger. “Ha. Maybe not. Rascal.” Turning his body back again, he faced her. “Now, there are a few basic moves every woman should know when it comes to self-defense. May I?” He held up his hands ready to grab her shoulders.
She nodded. “Of course.”
Tyler squared her body to his. His broad shoulders and chest had her brain buzzing as a pleasurable numb took over. He really was handsome.
“Neck, middle, groin. Repeat that.”
She moved her eyes back to his. “What?”
“Neck, middle, groin. Say it.”
Groin. Why was he talking about groins? “Why?”
“Just do it.”
“Neck, middle, gr…groin,” she stuttered the word. Smooth, Annie, real smooth.
“Those are the areas you want to target. Okay?”
“Okay. Sure.” Self-defense. He’s teaching you self-defense. Stay focused.
“Now, first things first. If someone is coming at you head on, I want you to take this part of your arm.” He raised her arm and placed two fingers on her forearm.
His touch was feather soft and electrifying at the same time. How was that possible?
Stay focused.
“And strike for the neck. Don’t use your wrist or your hand, only this part.” Tapping her forearm again, he asked, “Got it?”
“Yes. I think.”
“You sure?” He raised an eyebrow.
Great job of staying focused, Annie.
“Yes. I’ve got it.”
“Okay. When you do this, move your whole body into it. It’s going to look like this.” He took her forearm and aimed straight for his neck, his grip firm, and confident. When her arm made contact with his neck, he did a pretend shove back like her blow had some power to it.
Cute.
“Now what you’ve got is someone who instinctively goes to grip their neck.” He released his hold on her and reached for his neck with both hands. “At that point, you want to hit them directly in the torso with an elbow. And put all your weight behind it.” Gripping her arm again, he held her elbow at shoulder height then helped her swing her arm to his torso. “And once that happens, the person will go to grip their stomach, and their stance will widen like this.” He opened his legs a little. “And that gives you direct target to kick the jewels. Got it?”
Could she really remember all of this in real life? Hopefully, she would never have to.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Okay, let’s practice.”
Practice?
“You want me to really hit you? Like, really hit you, hit you?” She dropped one arm lax by her side while pointing the other in his general groin area, trying not to make eye contact with it. Pointing was bad enough. Coming in contact with his “jewels” sent a little shiver down her spine.
His gaze followed the line of her finger, and he closed his stance a little, clasping his hands together in front of him. “Well, no, not really.”
She bit her bottom lip to fight a giggle. Still, the sides of her mouth rose in a slight curve.
He stood straight. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. Just waiting on orders, boss.”
He glanced around outside, then stared back at the house. “I hate to ask you this, but are you willing to go back inside and work on the punching bag? I really want you to practice putting your weight behind your blows, but I’m not real crazy about the idea of my jewels being your target.”
Blows, jewels… God her mind was in all the wrong places. Heat seared her belly, and her cheeks could melt steel. She’d only really known the man a week. Not nearly long enough to be thinking about the things she thought about, nor was she ready to jump into something so fast or so rash with anyone. A change of scenery might be what she needed. His broad shoulders and hard chest in that tight black shirt only made the hot flash worse. There was nothing attractive about a punching bag.
“Yeah, let’s do it, I mean, let’s go…uh…let’s go inside.” She spun so fast she flung mud with her shoe.
“You okay?”
“Yep. Yep. Fine.” Waving a hand in the air, she didn’t bother to look behind her. “Just ready to get started.”
Tyler’s exercise equipment took up nearly every bit of space in the spare room. A weight bench sat in the middle of the area, with a treadmill shoved to one side, and a punching bag on the other. A television hung from the ceiling in the corner, and three speakers hung from the remaining corners of the ceiling. Every evening she heard the clink of the weights and the bump from his speakers, but she’d never stepped foot in there. Until now. She’d already taken his room. Least she could do was leave this space for him.
“Pretend these are your three points.” He pulled her attention toward the punching bag and taped three pieces of paper marked with an X to the bag.
His big frame did nothing to help the tightness of the room. She turned her attention to the bag, zoning in on what he told her, and not paying any attention to him, his strong chest, or the yummy scent of male testosterone he emitted. No attention at all.
“Neck, middle, groin,” she said and focused on the subject she was supposed to be focusing on. Self-defense.
“Good. Now. Just like we practiced outside. Forearm, elbow, kick,” Tyler instructed.
I’ve got this.
“Forearm.” She stepped her weight into her right leg and hit the bag with her arm. “Elbow.” Her pointed bone hit the bag dead center. “And kick.” Her sneaker hit just left of the X. When she stood t
all again, the bag barely moved.
“Good. That was a good first try, but really put some power behind it.”
“Okay.” She nodded.
Focus. You can do this.
She went through the sequence again. While the bag moved more than before, it still didn’t move enough to warrant her faith that she could cast fear in someone while defending herself. No wonder she proved such an easy target for Duke. Even with her ribs mostly healed, she was weak.
“Oh my. That was terrible.” She placed her fingertips to her forehead.
“No it wasn’t, but I know you can do better. Here.” He stood behind her closing in even more on her little space. “May I help you?”
Oh, snap! “Please.”
“Lift your arm.”
His fingertips tickled her skin as he raised her arm level with her nose. She let out an involuntary giggle.
“What’s wrong?”
His breath warmed her ear, stirring that heat in her belly she’d just gotten under control. “Nothing.” She shook her head. “Sorry, you were tickling me.”
“Sorry.” He lightened his grip. “Now, karate chop the bag.”
She refocused her attention to the giant sleeve of leather, and smacked it.
“Harder.”
She hit it again.
“One more time.”
She struck the bag to the point that it swung a good foot away from her.
“Awesome. Now, go for the elbow.”
She took her right arm and swung her elbow toward the middle X. The momentum of the bag stopped.
“Nice try, but really get your whole body into it.”
Nice try? It was terrible. She reared back and struck the bag again. The sleeve barely budged. Dropping her arms to her sides, she let out a moan. “What am I doing wrong?”
“It’s your feet. Here, let’s try again. Start from the beginning, and I’ll guide you.”
“Okay.” Annie stood tall and repositioned.
“Neck.”
She struck with her forearm as he held his hands on the back of her shoulders.
“Middle.”
She swung her elbow out, and he gripped her hips and rocked her body forward. Hesitating slightly at his touch, she refocused and swung. The bag bobbled around in a circle.
“Now groin.” He let go of her hips.
Annie reared back to kick the bag, her heel making direct contact with the X. The bag danced around from the force of her blows.
“I did it, I did it.” She spun around to face him, and lost her balance in her excitement from the pivot. She gripped his arms for support, just as he reached for her hips to hold her up right. There she stood, not even five inches from his face, their bodies touching, and his hard chest flush with hers.
“I knew you could.”
He stared down at her, his eyes narrowed slightly, almost as if they were smiling and devouring her at the same time. She fell deeper into Tyler’s embrace, their lips mere inches apart. The heat from her stomach raced back to her cheeks and down to her toes. She leaned closer, inviting him to take her mouth…
Instead, he let out a little moan, let go, and turned toward the window. Coldness whooshed over her, nearly knocking her over just like her uncoordinated feet.
What a fool she’d been. Of course he wouldn’t be interested in her. Too much baggage.
Annie’s hands shook from the hot and cold emotions running through her. She crossed her arms over her chest, and half-turned his direction. Air. She needed air. She had to get out of the house. She would chance being outside alone for a few minutes, but first she had to apologize. Undoubtedly, she’d just made things weird. “I’m so—”
“I umm…I just realized we don’t have anything for dinner.” Tyler cut off her apology as he stared at the view of the creek from the window.
Dinner? He was thinking about food, now?
“O…okay?”
“When’s the last time you went fishing?” He turned toward her.
“With my dad, about ten years ago.”
“How about we go outside and catch us some fish? I think there are some vegetables in the crisper, and maybe a beer or two. Interested?”
Fishing? He seriously wanted to go fishing. He wanted to be near her after he turned away from her? The real question was could she handle being near him?
“Uh…I don’t know.” Whatever emotions were happening inside of her, obviously, they weren’t the same ones happening to him. She’d started to fall for her caretaker, and all he wanted was a fishing partner.
Figures.
“Please?” He stepped forward. “I’d really like it if you went with me.”
His gaze fell to the side, distant and empty for a split second before he brought it back to focus on her. While she fought her own battle not to fall for him, he seemed to be fighting something of his own. His distance on the couch had been unnatural for them, and now his eyes. Something was off. Yet, when she needed a savior, he’d been there for her.
Maybe this was her time to be there for him.
“Yeah, okay.”
“I’ll get us some poles and meet you out by the dock in ten.”
“Sure.”
Her chest tightened as he left the room, not giving her a passing glance. What was happening between them?
Chapter Fifteen
Fishing? Why the hell had he asked Annie to go fishing? Tank needed air, but air away from her. Now, with her next to him in those tight little yoga pants and her equally tight tank top, there was no way he would be able to concentrate on fishing. Much less taking in fresh air. And to make matters worse, he’d almost kissed her. Again. He knew better—the minute she found out about his past, she would run the other way. Too many issues.
He watched her pull a worm out of the bucket. “You need help with that?”
“Nope.” Annie squished the squiggling, burrowing animal between her fingers and shoved it through the hook. When some of the worm’s guts oozed, she didn’t even flinch.
What a woman.
“I use to help my dad dig for worms so we could go fishing.” She cast her line, her bait bobbing on top of the water. “I wasn’t much of a girly-girl growing up.”
She’d rolled her pants up to her knees to prevent the ends from getting wet. Her toes slung lazily in the water, while her sleek and slender calves basked in the sunshine. The end of her side braid draped over her shoulder and dared to touch the top of her cleavage. He had to turn his head to keep his wandering eyes from searching lower. She might have been a tomboy growing up, but Beauty was definitely all woman now.
God, this was a bad idea.
He turned away from her slightly and cast his line the other direction.
“What about you?” Annie nudged him with her elbow.
He swiveled his gaze back to her. “What about me?”
“Well, I told you I liked to go fishing with my dad. What did you do for fun?”
He stretched his neck from side to side. Fun. There wasn’t much of that for him. At least, not in the beginning of his childhood. “I…I visited my gramps in the summertime. I liked that.”
She reeled her line in and tossed it back out into the water. “What else?”
The few good memories he did have always seemed to be overshadowed by the bad: the abuse, his fears, the years of counseling that followed, all things that tainted his childhood. Having fun was a new concept for him.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I got pretty good at lifting weights.”
“That’s obvious.” She stared at his arms.
Lots of people had noticed his muscles before, but when Beauty did it…pride swelled his chest. He had to stop himself from flexing just so she’d notice him a little more. “I also got good at climbing trees, I guess.”
“Really?” Her voice raised a few too many notches.
“Yeah.” He pulled his head back and caught her dubious stare. “You don’t believe me?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “I beli
eve you. I just find it hard to believe. That’s all.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, you’re just so…” She raked her gaze over his shoulders and down to his legs.
His blood pumped harder through his veins from her gaze. “So what?”
“So big. I just imagine people who climb trees a little more—”
“More what?”
“Leaner than you. Maybe a little more agile.”
“Ha! Agile?” He smiled and stood. He’d show her agile. “I know a dare when I hear one. Put your fishing pole down.”
“What?” She stared up at him.
“Come on.” He held his hand out to her. “Put your pole down, get your shoes on, and let’s go.”
“Go where.” She grabbed her shoes and reached for his help to stand.
He engulfed her hand in his and wiggled his eyebrows. The feel of her warm, soft skin had him reluctant to let her go. So he didn’t. He held her grasp, and her trust as he pulled her behind him to the biggest tree he could find. “We are going to climb a tree.”
“No. I don’t climb trees,” she protested, pulling back on his grip. The momentary trust broken.
He gripped a low hanging limb and pulled himself up. “Give me your hand.” He reached down for her, needing to build her trust again.
“What? Tyler no.” She took a step back and crossed her arms, her actions wounding his pride.
“Annie, please.” He asked again, softly.
She stared up at him, her sneakers dangling from her fingertips. Al left his spot in the sun and came to sit beside her. “This is silly. Even Alfred thinks so. Isn’t that right, boy?”
His dog whacked his tail against the ground in answer.
“See.” She nodded to the dog. “I’m not going up there. You’ve proved your point. You can climb trees. I believe you. Now, can you just get down? Please?”
She was scared to have a good time. He’d give good moments back to her.
“No can do.” He shook his head. “Put your shoes on, and give me your hand.”
Her shoulders tensed near her ears as she glanced off at the water, and her bare foot tapped against the ground.
“I promise.” He held a hand to his heart. “I won’t let anything happen to you, and I know you won’t regret it.”