Claim & Protect

by Rhenna Morgan

  Lady barked and waggled her tail.

  He chuckled and released his cock. He might be willing to laze in bed with thoughts of his sweet little waitress, but his border collie never deviated from her routine if Trevor was home. Fighting it would only drive them both nuts. Besides, the real-life kiss he’d scored from Natalie last night was a one-time deal. Stoking the fire any hotter was a bad idea all around. For him and for her.

  He tossed the sheets aside and padded bare-ass naked across the hand-carved wood floors, his cock bobbing a reminder of his indulgent dream. He tugged some loose pajama bottoms on and headed for the kitchen, Lady close on his heels. The clock over the mantel showed 6:15 a.m., which was actually a little late for Lady’s routine, and only a hint of morning lit the skies outside. In another few weeks, the time would shift backward and every room would be bathed in that sweet pre-sunrise glow he’d grown to love as a kid. The only requirements he’d insisted on from his architect after he’d bought his land was to keep the layout simple and give him views from every room. Nothing kept him more centered and balanced than nature, not even his planes. With the design he’d ended up with, he’d come as close to outdoor living as a man could get and still have a roof and walls around him.

  Lady bounced beside the back door and circled again, her boundless energy eager to have free rein. He’d barely opened the door before she snaked her limber body through the opening and took off full-steam for the acreage behind his home. In another thirty minutes or so she’d circle back for chow then spend the rest of her morning pestering Thomas while he tended the horses.

  Yawning, he snagged one of the handy little single-serve coffee pods Vivienne had turned him on to and popped it in the brewer. Bonnie would have loved the contraption. The first thing she’d done for Frank and Trevor every morning growing up was get coffee brewing and fire up a full breakfast. Didn’t matter what time of year it was or how she was feeling, she loved taking care of her crew and always pried herself out of bed to do it.

  Almost two years she’d been gone now and the melancholy that came with thoughts of her was still thick. How Frank had adjusted as well as he seemed to on the surface still amazed Trevor. He and Bonnie had been a perfect match. An ideal couple in every sense of the word. For months when Trevor had first moved into their home, he’d had been fascinated by them. How easily they interacted and how open they were with affection. A complete opposite to the shouting and violence that had constantly shaken the home he’d been born into.

  The coffee machine gurgled and sputtered out the last of his brew, the rich, nutty scent that came with it filling his open kitchen.

  He’d bet Natalie was up already like Bonnie would have been. Heck, the way Levi had knocked back his meatloaf last night, she probably had to feed the kid five meals a day to keep him sated. She’d do it though. He hadn’t learned much about her in the last few weeks, but he’d seen enough to discern she had the same quiet strength as the woman who’d raised him. That she didn’t just go through the motions of raising her son because she had to, but because she loved being a mom and taking care of her family. Exactly the kind of woman he wanted for himself.

  Except that kind of woman deserved a man like Frank. Calm. Solid and patient. For years, Trevor tried to emulate him. To keep the fire that burned inside him banked and far away from the people he loved.

  You’re nothing like your biological father.

  He wished Zeke was right. More so since he’d actually met a woman worth wishing for. He grabbed his phone off the charger and sipped his coffee on the way to the kitchen table. Almost on reflex, he pulled up his favorites and punched Frank’s number as he settled at the head of the table.

  Frank answered on the second ring, his hardy voice already sharp and focused. “‘Bout time you got around to calling your old man.”

  “Sorry. Had my hands full with a lot of charters the last few weeks. Every businessman in Dallas wanted to get their trips in before the holidays kicked in.” Trevor set his mug on the table and kicked one foot up on the chair next to him. “I catch you at a bad time?”

  “Got a cup of coffee and pretty blue skyline out my kitchen window. Can’t think of a better time to sit and talk to my boy.”

  Trevor cleared his throat, the same swell of emotion that had billowed up the first time Frank had called him that years ago still overpowering him twenty-seven years later. Back then, it’d taken him a good five minutes to be able to talk without tearing up and embarrassing himself. Now, he just appreciated the burn behind his sternum and let it fill up all the empty space inside. “You still coming up for Thanksgiving?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it. Though I’m hoping Axel’s momma’s got a man to keep her occupied this year. Never met a woman so forward in my life.”

  Frank wasn’t wrong on that score. For about thirty minutes during last year’s dessert, everyone had half expected Sylvie to crawl in Frank’s lap and spoon-feed him her chocolate silk pie. “If you think she’s direct, you ought to see Axel’s approach with ladies.”

  “Apple didn’t fall far, I take it?”

  “More like the apple got bigger, bolder, and stuck true to its roots. Though with that brogue of his, the women practically volunteer for whatever he wants.” Which, with Axel’s proclivities for all things kink, was quite the offering.

  Trevor sipped his coffee. “You good driving up, or you want me to come down and get you?”

  Frank’s voice dropped low and stern. “I’m old, not blind. Besides, driving’s my best time to think. Hell, I’d drive myself to my own funeral if I could figure out how to pull it off.”

  That was certainly true. More than once, Frank had pulled an overnight run hauling new cattle or horses and never batted an eye. “How you liking the new truck?”

  “New truck’s fine, son, but we’re gonna have to talk about you buyin’ me things I don’t need.”

  “It’s got all the latest gadgets, though. You can talk on the phone without using your hands.”

  “Don’t talk on the phone while I drive. Takes my focus off where it should be. And there was nothin’ wrong with the truck you bought me two years ago.” He paused, the silence between them growing thick in seconds. “I know you’re still upset about Bonnie being gone, but I ain’t going anywhere. Not anytime soon, God willing. And I know you love me, but I’d rather see your face than tool around in shiny new toys.”

  Trevor grunted and took another drink of his coffee. Arguing with his dad wouldn’t do any good. When Frank Raines talked, a person listened, nodded and took it in.

  Outside the picture window across from him, deep blue skies slowly lightened and backlit the south pasture, smatterings of trees barely visible in the morning glow. The details might be different than the view outside Frank’s kitchen, but in that second, even with more than two hundred miles between them and silence buzzing through the phone line, he felt like he was home.

  “What’s rattling in that head of yours?” Frank said.

  “What makes you think I’m gnawing on anything?”

  Frank barked a short laugh. “Known you damn near all your life, Trevor. Even those first few days at the ranch, you’d brood when something got in your craw. Told you then and I’ll tell you now, best way to tackle something is to get it out.”

  Yeah, he had. Over and over again until Trevor had finally opened up.

  He hurt her. A lot.

  The simple words hadn’t been much, but for a young kid who’d lost both his parents and fought his way through countless foster homes after, it had felt like an hour-long dissertation.

  But it had also felt great.

  Frank had listened, always patient, yet never prodding too far. Just like he was now.

  “I want what you had.” The admission burned Trevor’s throat on the way out, as short as the first time he’d spill his guts, but just as potent.
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  “From where I’m sitting, I’d say you’ve built a fine life of your own.”

  Trevor loved his life. Loved how he spent his time and the people in it. Between his ranch, his businesses, and his brothers, his life was exceptionally grounded. A far sight different than the way things had been when Axel found him. “It’s not that. Got everything I could ever need and most of what I want.”

  “But?”

  Dragging one finger along the handle of his coffee mug, Trevor dug for the right words. A way to string his fears together that wouldn’t come off half-cocked. Then again, this was Frank he was talking to. The man who’d stood beside him for years and helped him untangle his fucked-up past. It wouldn’t matter what he said so long as he got it out. “You know what I’ve got inside me. Where I come from. How can I bring a decent woman into what I’ve built and ever feel confident it won’t spill over?”

  The scratch of wood on wood sounded in the background, and Trevor could easily picture Frank leaning into the long trestle table and resting his elbows on the honey-stained surface. “Because of that right there. You know yourself. You know what’s inside you and keep yourself grounded with goodness. What you’ve got to understand, son, is that a good woman by your side isn’t a liability or a weakness. It’s the best damned blessing there is, and the sweetest, most reliable anchor you’ll ever have, because you’ll use that fire to keep her shielded.”

  The memory of Natalie leaning over the table and refilling his glass blazed bright. Touching her had felt right. Even that first time with her ex raining his nasty sneer on both of them, she’d tucked up next to his side just right. He wanted more of it. A lot more.

  Frank’s mischievous voice rattled him out of his thoughts. “So, when do I get to meet her?”

  “Meet who?” Trevor flinched as soon as the response popped out of his mouth. No lie ever got past his dad, even it was innocently uttered.

  “The woman who’s got my boy thinkin’ about hearth and home.”

  The table in front of him blurred, old fears and new hopes tangling up in a messy knot. “Not sure it’s a good idea to pursue her. Got a few hurdles between the two of us that could get messy.”

  “You meet a woman you think about before you go to sleep and first thing when you wake up, she’s worth chasing no matter how messy it is.” He paused a minute and sighed the way he always did when he finished off his coffee. “Now quit lollygagging and figure out how to clear those hurdles. I want a grandkid to spoil before I’m too old to enjoy doin’ it.”

  “Kinda rushing things, don’t you think?”

  “You wake up thinking about her?”

  Thinking about her and dying to sink his cock inside her, not that he was gonna tack that little tidbit into the conversation.

  Before he could answer, Frank softly chuckled and said, “That’s what I thought.” Movement sounded through the line followed by the clink of dishes. “Gotta get to work, son, but you wanna call me and keep me updated on how things move along with your woman, I’ll be here.”

  “You’re gettin’ ahead of yourself.”

  “Doubt that,” Frank muttered, “but have fun feedin’ yourself that line while you still can. See you at Thanksgiving.”

  “Yeah, see you then.” Trevor ended the call and set the phone on the kitchen table. He wasn’t feeding himself a line. He was being reasonable. Recognizing his limitations and accepting them for what they were.

  He stood and carried his mug to the sink, remnants of his dream and the very real memory of how Natalie had felt against him during their kiss the night before flaring bold and brilliant. Reasonable or not, it didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the fantasy while it lasted.

  Chapter Eight

  Someone needed to rein Trevor’s ass in the next time he placed a marketing order. Ten boxes of T-shirts would take forever to sell and took up too much space in his storage closet. What he really needed were the damned coasters.

  He shifted the last box he’d checked over with the others, putting them in order by size on the storeroom’s middle shelf. The laughter and shouts from his better-than-average Friday night crowd were mostly muted by the thick storeroom walls, but the bass from the sound system surrounded the ten-by-twenty space like a heartbeat. He nabbed a smaller box off the top shelf and sliced open the packaging tape with his pocket knife. Nestled inside was a mother lode of cardboard coasters with The Den’s logo imprinted in the center. “Finally.”

  Behind him, the storeroom door swung open and the chatter and music from the main bar swelled to full roar.

  Box in hand, he spun, expecting to find Vicky ready to read him the riot act for taking his sweet-ass time in delivering her goods, but found Natalie frozen in the doorway.

  Her gaze darted from the box in his hands, to his face, then down to her navy-blue Keds. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were in here.”

  “Last I checked, the storeroom’s not off-limits for employees.”

  She shifted her feet and tightened her grip on the door, still not meeting his eyes. She’d been doing that a lot around him the last few shifts, always giving him a wide berth, but watching him when she thought he wasn’t looking.

  But he’d always been looking. Hell, his whole body went on point the second she walked into the bar and his brain got very single-threaded anytime she got within twenty feet of him. It was like his body had fashioned an inner radar calibrated just for tracking her. “Relax, Nat. I was looking for coasters, not committing a crime.”

  She blushed a pretty pink and waved her hand toward the syrup boxes lined up on the wall closest to the bar. “Vicky told me to switch out the Coke syrup.”

  God, if she blushed that pretty finding him with just a box in his hand, she’d have fainted busting him in the shower the last five days. With all the dirty scenarios his subconscious had offered up since their kiss, it was either take his dick in hand and find release, or walk around with constant wood.

  “Don’t have to explain why you’re here, darlin’. Do what you need to.” He set the box of coasters aside and forced himself back on task. The last thing she needed was him breathing down her neck and making her even more nervous than she already was. Although, the idea of being close enough to make her jittery appealed on a whole lot of levels.

  The door snicked shut, dousing the crowd’s rumble.

  He slid a few more boxes around, but damned if any others matched the first one. Planting both hands on his hips, he scanned the shelves one last time.

  All at once, the lack of sound behind him registered.

  He twisted and found Natalie staring motionless at the mess of hoses leading out of all the boxes. “Vicky bother to tell you how to switch ’em out?”

  “I can figure it out.”

  “No doubt in my mind you can, but someone showing you once wouldn’t hurt.” Plus, there was the added bonus of proximity, a feat he’d had a hard time pulling off with her lately without drawing attention from the rest of his staff.

  She inched closer to the boxes, angling her head to one side like the change in view might hold some clue on how to start.

  God, she was cute. “You always this stubborn learning new things?”

  She popped upright and frowned. “I’m not stubborn.”

  Oh, yeah. Totally cute. Especially when she got her back up. He bit back a chuckle and ambled toward her. “Says the woman with a determined scowl on her face.” He turned her by her shoulders, parked himself as close behind her as he could without completely spooking her and pointed to the box on the bottom shelf with the Coke logo. “Grab the connector and release the latch.”

  Bracing a hand on the shelf above it, Natalie leaned over and wrapped her hand around the hose. “Release it how?”

  Trevor couldn’t think. Couldn’t process anything except Natalie’s sweet ass on prime displ
ay right in front of him. He fisted his hands at his sides, fighting the impulse to grip her hips and fit himself against her. He let out a slow breath instead and leaned over her, his chest mere inches from her back, and pointed to the latch beneath the connector. When he spoke, his voice rumbled with the same depth as the bass reverberating around them. “Squeeze right there.”

  Fingers trembling, she wrapped her hand around the latch. “Here?”

  Fuck no. Wrapped around his rapidly hardening cock would be way better. Or hanging on for dear life while he drove himself inside her. He inhaled deep and her wildflower scent filled him. More than anything, he wanted to slide his hands around her rib cage and see if her tits filled his palms in real life as good as they had in his dreams. “Yeah, you’ve got it.”

  She fumbled the first time, then tried again, bearing down harder until the latch popped free.

  “Now just switch out the box with the one beside it and plug the hose back in to the new connector.” The more she moved, the more her glossy hair slipped forward and hid her face. From here he could easily move it aside and explore the line of her neck. He’d bet anything she had a sweet spot there, one that made her eyes all heavy and heated like last weekend.

  He straightened and stepped away, his blood pumping even faster than his dangerous thoughts. Five days he’d kept his distance. Five nights he’d fallen asleep with her in his head and woken up to thoughts of her first thing in the morning. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why. He’d always gone for statuesque blondes, but watching Nat’s curvy ass wiggle while she fit the new nozzle in place, he couldn’t envision anyone else but her. Not even when he tried. Being around her did weird shit to his head.

  She levered herself upright and spun, a huge smile on her face. “I did it.”

  “‘’’Course you did.” He motioned to the empty box and fought the need to adjust his throbbing dick. He tried to keep his voice normal, but it came out gruff. “Drop that by the back door, and I’ll toss it in the dumpster on the way out. I gotta run some errands as soon as Ivan’s back.”