“Mean? I heard she was nice.”
“Not when it comes to this shit.” He slowed down and leaned over. “She’ll make you hurt in ways you couldn’t think possible.”
“No cheating, Al,” Claire called. “We want to do everything to keep your new knee going for at least another twenty years.”
“I’ll be dead before then.”
“You’ll survive.” She crossed the floor until she reached the front desk to pick up Jacob’s paperwork, then quickly flipped through the pages. “Five more minutes, Al. Jacob. Give me ten on the bike, then we’ll discuss your treatment protocol.”
“More like torture protocol,” Al muttered.
“I heard that.”
Jacob laughed. The cook had always been a crusty old coot even before he hit his sixties. “Be worth it if you can flip burgers for a few more years,” he said.
“Hmph. Flipping burgers and standing all day in front of a grill top got me in this mess to begin with. I should retire.”
“You can’t. We love your food too much,” Claire said “Best dang bacon cheeseburger this side of the Mason-Dixon line.”
Her voice was husky, with a southern drawl as sweet as iced tea on a hot summer day. Man, he could get used to hearing her talk, especially in bed. Damn. Mental ice dude. Mental ice. He pedaled faster and focused on the bike’s timer, not the way her sultry accent turned him on.
An alarm chimed, and Claire returned to the woman on the treatment table. “You’re good to go,” she said, removing the electrodes from her client’s lower back. “I’ll see you on Thursday for your next session.”
As her client gathered her purse, Claire pointed to the wooden set of steps located opposite the bikes. “Al, I’ll need you over at the stairs,” she said. “One step up and then down. Work both legs. Fifteen reps on each leg.”
“Why do I need to work both legs? Only one has a new knee.”
“To balance the muscles,” she said firmly. “Jacob, stop cycling and we’ll discuss your treatment plan, then get started on your exercises.” Claire indicated a chair in front of another treatment table.
“Sounds good,” Jacob said, then got off the bike and joined her next to her laptop stand. “You know Al’s just being crotchety for show, right?”
She laughed. “Yeah. He’s all bluster, no bite.” Claire moved her mouse on its pad and clicked. “Okay. I’ve got your file pulled up. The forms state you wrenched your shoulder during an enemy encounter. What precisely happened last month?”
He inhaled her scent and it wove through him, making him think of hot summer nights and tall glasses of tart lemonade. Again, he admonished himself to stand down, then quickly recounted the fire fight while overseas a month earlier when he’d wrenched his shoulder. A bomb had exploded in the house where they’d tracked an enemy soldier, bottoming out the second floor and sending half the troops to the floor below. He’d landed funny on his arm, but an adrenaline spike had him dragging three of his team members out of danger before he escaped the mess.
“I’m going to be honest with you,” Claire said when he finished. “The x-rays I got from the doctor in Coronado indicate you’re on the brink of having a major tear in the rotator cuff. I can work with you to improve the flexibility and strength of the muscles surrounding the joint. But it won’t be easy, and I can’t guarantee you’ll avoid surgery.”
“Fair enough,” Jacob said.
“You’ll have to baby your arm. But I bet you’re compensating for the injury,” she said. “Also, are you having trouble sleeping?”
Up until the day he met her, Jacob’s sleep had been disturbed by the dull ache in his arm. But the last two nights had been a different story. She’d been a featured player in his dreams, making him crazy.
“Occasionally,” he said, looking into her concerned hazel eyes. “I take some ibuprofen and when it kicks in, I can nod off.” But pain relievers did nothing to boot her out of his brain.
Energy arced between them for a second before she blinked and broke the connection. She clicked the mouse again, then pushed away from her work station. “Okay. Let’s get started,” she said in a business-like tone. “Then I’ll send you home with a sheet outlining stretches you should do between appointments.”
She led him to a wide mat raised about six inches from the floor. “Side-lying rotations first,” Claire said, then grabbed a three-pound dumbbell and gave it to him. “Lie down on the side opposite your injured arm, bend your elbow to ninety degrees and rest it on your side.”
He complied and she gave him the dumbbell. “This isn’t much weight,” he said.
“You’ll think it’s a ton by the time you’ve finished your reps.” She wrapped up her instructions. “Three sets of ten, then you’ll do the lawn mower pull with the bands.”
“Gotcha.”
She left and he allowed himself one good look at her fine bottom, her black pants hugging her curves just right, before he concentrated on his exercise. As he worked his shoulder through the various routines she gave him, he kept his eye on the road outside, alert to anyone or anything out of place.
He also watched the way Claire handled her job, liking how she juggled multiple clients while maintaining her composure. Unlike bigger facilities in larger communities, this one was a one-woman show. And she didn’t miss a beat as she guided Al through his exercises and welcomed another patient to the facility with instructions about hers.
But forty-five minutes later, he agreed with Al. Torture Chamber was a much better description of the rehab center. “You sure this doorway stretch will help?” he asked, fighting the pain.
“Trust me. There’s good pain. And there’s bad pain.” Claire folded towels alongside Dorie at the back of the facility. “You’re experiencing the good kind right now.”
“Doesn’t feel good,” he grumbled.
“This from the big, bad SEAL?” Dorie shook her head. “You do exactly what Claire tells you to do and you’ll be ready for action again in no time.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Claire said. “How about you head out for lunch. I’ll finish up here and grab a bite in the back room while I update my files.”
Dorie put another folded towel on the stack. “Sounds good. Heading to the diner to get one of those burgers. See you later,” she said, then grabbed her oversized handbag before exiting the rehab clinic.
Jacob saw her almost bump into a guy in a hooded gray jacket, skinny and tall with wraparound sunglasses hiding his eyes and most of his face.
Adrenaline spiked along Jacob’s nerves. “You expecting anyone else to come in?” he asked, pushing away from the door jamb, heading toward the entrance while studying the man, who hunched his shoulders and tucked his chin down as if trying to hide in plain sight.
“No. We’re closed from noon to one,” she said. “Why?”
The dude tucked his hands into his hoodie’s kangaroo pocket and moved away from the entrance to stand in front of the window facing Main Street where he withdrew his cell phone. “Some guy’s hanging around.” Jacob kept his eyes trained on the man who held the phone and appeared to take pictures of the clinic’s interior.
What the fuck?
He heard her gasp behind him as he bridged the last two feet to the door. “Go to the supply closet and lock yourself inside,” he said without looking back.
“I should never have believed he’d leave me alone. That he wouldn’t find me here.”
His chest tightened. He heard the fear wavering in every shrill word. “Hide in the back,” he commanded. “I’m going to find out who the hell he is and why he’s here.”
He opened the door. “What are you’re doing here?” Jacob called as he stepped toward the guy.
The man squawked, jumped back, then raced in the opposite direction toward the access road between the clinic’s building and the next one across the street. Jacob chased him as bystanders hurried to get out of the way. Ahead, the dude pushed a white-haired elderly woman with a walker, r
ushing around her without looking back. The walker’s metal legs kicked up and she fell to the concrete.
Crap. He had to let the jerk go. Jacob stopped chasing him to kneel beside the woman. “Are you okay?” he asked, quickly checking her wrinkled face for scrapes while helping her sit.
“I’m fine, but I’m mad.” She swiped at the rip in her khaki pants. “I just bought these pants and now they’re ruined. Dang it.”
He checked her shin for scratches and found none. “I’m sorry, ma’am.” Jacob glanced at the direction he’d been running toward and watched the guy he’d been pursuing round a corner at the end of the block. “Can I get you anything? Water? A ride home?”
“Thanks, but I’ve got a hot date waiting for me at the coffee shop.”
“I’ll make sure you get there.” He held out his hand and helped her stand, then he lifted her walker and positioned it in front of her. “And your coffee’s on me along with a check to cover the cost of replacing your pants.” The poor woman had taken a tumble because of his actions.
After he’d escorted the woman to the coffee shop, he returned to the clinic. “Asshole got away, but you’re safe for now,” he called while heading to the back room. “He dodged me by tripping an old lady.”
She emerged and met him in the middle of the room. “My former coach might be after me,” Claire said, her face pale as parchment. “Vance Riley. He’s in his early sixties, has gray hair and an athletic body.”
From what Jacob had seen of the guy’s chin and mouth, he didn’t believe he’d pursued Vance Riley. “Guy I chased was skinny and from what I saw of his face, I’d put him in his early thirties tops.”
“So he might be some random guy and I’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“You’re wrong.” Jacob held her tear-filled eyes with his. “He had an ulterior motive for hanging around the clinic. Otherwise the asshole wouldn’t have run the minute I stepped out of the building.”
Claire fisted her hands and pressed her lips together, her breath coming out in short spurts. “I’m hiring protection,” she said after exhaling a huge gulp of air. “I don’t care how much Hank charges.”
“That’s already taken care of.”
“But you’re not on his staff. You’re my client.” She crossed her arms and her face flushed. “You said already. You knew about Vance Riley before you walked into this clinic. I assume my friends told you everything.”
“They told me enough to know you might be in trouble,” he said.
“I promised to ask for help if I needed it.” Hannah dropped her gaze to his shoulder, then locked it back onto his. “I’m not sure using someone who has a bum shoulder is the right way to go. I’m supposed to treat your injury, not rely on you for protection.”
He gritted his teeth. Sure. His shoulder was fucked up, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t prevent someone from harming her. “You don’t have a choice in the matter,” he said with grim determination. “Hank’s shorthanded. I volunteered to step in temporarily to watch over you until he finds someone to replace me.” He wouldn’t allow her to say no, now that someone had sent him a major red flag.
Claire read the determination in Jacob’s set jaw and his clear blue eyes which lasered in on hers, drawing her with an invisible magnetic pull. Until he’d told her he’d taken on the task of protecting her—temporarily—she might have allowed herself to get swayed to do more than treat him despite her rule to keep clients at a distance for professional reasons.
Now? Not so much. His interim bodyguard stint layered another complication into the mix. “According to the forms you filled out, you return to your base in Coronado in three weeks.” She uncrossed her arms and toyed with her locket. People had failed her in the past, but she’d be a fool to turn down Jacob’s help. For now. “To be honest, I’ve been skittish since I received the news about Vance’s early release. You might not be an official Brotherhood Protector, and you do have an injury, but after seeing you scare the crap out of that dude, I’m not going to lie and say I don’t want you to be on the lookout for him.” As a trained SEAL Jacob would intimidate the hell out of Vance Riley should he try to come after her.
“Great. I’ll set up surveillance here and at your home.”
She held up a hand. “Right now, we don’t know if the guy you chased is someone I need to be concerned about,” she said. “Yes. He ran off but there’s no proof he’s connected to Vance. If my mother confirms he made it to his parole appointment this morning, there’s no reason for you to bunk at my place. Frankly, I don’t have room for you.” Though her queen-sized bed had plenty of space for two… she shook the thought from her sex-starved brain. Clearly, it had been way too long since she’d gone out on a date, let alone shared a bed with someone.
But Jacob didn’t get involved in her life because of his attraction. He’d become a fixture in her life because of his sense of duty. He might have been interested in her as a woman before she lost her senses during the reception, but now she’d bet her paltry retirement savings plan he’d dropped his pursuit once he’d learned about her situation.
Jacob pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “You have a decent security system?” he asked after a beat of silence.
“Yes.” A basic call monitoring system with a few motion sensors would alert her to any intruders.
“I won’t stay at your place yet.” He closed the scant distance between them. “If things escalate, everything changes. No argument.”
Oh, he smelled so good… his crisp, masculine aroma weaved into her senses and tingles zipped along her nerves. More images if him in her bed doing all kinds of delicious things to her body popped into her brain. She shook her head. Her earlier fear had been replaced by some hormonal surge… Her adrenaline rush becoming a blazing reaction to the strong man who’d chased away a potential enemy without a second thought.
Focus on this temporary arrangement, not the man. “Absolutely,” she said.
“I’ll come in every day for therapy, then set up surveillance outside your house,” he said.
He’d be so, so close, but he might as well be miles away. She shouldn’t mind, but a part of her wished the reason Jacob had become part of her life had nothing to do with Vance Riley. And everything to do with her. “Dorie will wonder why, and I don’t want her to know about my situation unless it’s necessary. She has a tendency to gossip.” Though she loved her receptionist, she didn’t want the entire town of Eagle Rock to hear about her situation and whisper behind her back. The rumors flying around her high school about her case had been awful enough fourteen years ago.
“Understood. We’ll tell her my military doctor in Coronado ordered extra PT to accelerate my recovery.”
Her belly knotted. The shoulder she’d worked on today needed a lot of therapy which he’d bungle if he continued putting it through high speed chases. “I’ll let her know I’ve cleared the additional treatment with the VA insurance adjusters.” Claire studied him. “How’s your shoulder doing now?”
“Not great, but I’m sure you’ll fix it.”
“Contrary to what people have said about me, I’m not a miracle worker.” Street sounds permeated the clinic’s interior. “But the extra PT should make a difference.”
He nodded. “I’m counting on it,” he said. “I can’t be here all day doing stretches and exercises. I’ll install extra security and say Hannah hired me to do it because of the guy loitering around the building.”
“I suppose we need it now.”
“Afraid so.” Jacob looked over his shoulder in the direction of Al’s Diner. “You still planning on working through lunch?”
Filing insurance claims was the last thing she wanted to do after the freak-out she’d been through. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Twelve thirty-five. “No, but there isn’t time to go out,” she said. “I’ve got a ham sandwich and a bag of chips we can split before my next appointment arrives.”
“Sounds good to me.”
S
he heard his stomach rumble. “You sure you can live on it?”
“Trust me. I’ve lived on far worse.”
“I can imagine.” She held his gaze for a moment. She read more than concern in those deep blue eyes. She read attraction in the darkening irises. Maybe she wouldn’t act on the heat simmering between them, but she’d like to get to know him better. As a friend. After all, he’d be a regular fixture at the clinic during the next three weeks.
“How about I make up for today’s crappy lunch by treating you to one at Al’s tomorrow?” she asked.
“Not necessary.”
“Jacob,” she said. “You’re a nice guy, and you gave up your free time to guard me without compensation. Please let me buy you lunch every once in a while, or I’ll feel even worse about this crazy situation.”
“If it’ll make you feel better, then sure. But you don’t have to buy me lunch.”
“I want to.” She turned on her heel and marched toward a small kitchen area in the back. “I’ll see if there’s anything else in the fridge for you besides what I brought in to eat.”
Two hours later, after sharing her small lunch with Jacob and working with another client, Claire received a text from her mother. Every muscle in her back uncoiled and the tension she’d been carrying around like a boulder lifted. Vance had shown up for his appointment. Quickly, she hurried to the front of the clinic where Jacob stood measuring the front window’s dimensions.
“Maybe he’s really changed,” she said. “So there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Not yet.” Jacob pulled a pencil from behind his ear. “But you’re stuck with me until we’re positive.” He jotted down a few numbers.
“Agreed. And you’re getting free lunches until this is over.”
“I won’t say no to a burger from Al’s”
During the next two days, Hannah worked on Jacob’s shoulder, putting him through extra physical therapy and treated him to the lunches she’d promised. Meanwhile, ongoing reports from her mother’s source at the Atlanta Police Department continued to support Vance’s claim that he’d reformed. And there’d been no more sightings of strange men in hoodies loitering by the clinic.
Brotherhood Protectors: Falling for Her Temporary Bodyguard (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 3