Brotherhood Protectors: Falling for Her Temporary Bodyguard (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Christine Glover

  “I’m sure everything will be fine,” she said when Jacob held the door leading into Al’s Diner open.

  “You’re probably right,” he said as they made their way in.

  Aromas of fries and burgers and good strong coffee swirled around her as they found an open booth, pausing to say hi to Dorie and a few other locals before sitting down.

  He held her gaze. “Still not convinced you’re in the clear.”

  “I am.”

  She wanted to believe Vance Riley no longer had the ability to steal her life. But he cast a shadow over her every interaction with Jacob. And she wanted it to end. Even more, she wanted to build on her friendship with Jacob. She didn’t know where it would lead, but she genuinely liked Jacob.

  Her attraction hadn’t waned either.

  Though a guy of Jacob’s size and sheer maleness normally would have made her nervous, he only made her crave exploring every inch of his body all the way from caressing his freckled cheeks, to kissing his full mouth and a whole lot more… much much more than she’d ever imagined.

  But first she had to get Jacob to see her as a woman again, not just as a person to protect. “Could you do me a favor,” she said after taking a sip of sweet tea to wet her suddenly dry mouth.

  “Sure,” he said. “What do you need?”

  “To talk about anything but Riley… talk about the weather, your sister’s next movie release, your SEAL team… anything but him. I don’t want him taking up any more space in my brain than he deserves.”

  “Gotcha.”

  And for the next twenty minutes, they discussed the challenges of his last mission, the movie his sister had finished filming, and his concerns for his twin brother Jonah and his older brother Ben. Both men also put their necks on the line every time they went out on their military missions.

  “I can’t believe there are two of you,” she said, laughing as they exited the diner. “The tricks you played on your mother must have driven her crazy.”

  “Yeah. We liked to switch it up a lot, but she’d tell us apart every single time. Our teachers?” He held her arm as they made their way across the street. “Now they were another…”

  Screeching tires cut him off.

  A passerby screamed, “Watch out.”

  She whipped her head around. A mud-splattered pickup truck barreled toward her, literally less than a car length away. Claire’s heart leapt into her throat. She ran, then tripped over a crack, and hurtled to the hard pavement. Before she could crawl away, Jacob scooped her up and carried her to the curb where he set her down.

  The truck careened dangerously close, and she made out a figure wearing a ski mask. In June. “He’s not stopping,” she cried, fear spiking along her nerves.

  “Run,” Jacob ordered, then took her hand and pulled her alongside him toward the rehab clinic’s doors.

  She raced on rubbery legs beside him, heard the crunch of metal against metal and tires grinding against the gravel pooling along the edges of the sidewalk. Her pulse racing, Claire dug out her keys with trembling fingers, fumbled them and they fell.

  Jacob dropped to his knees and picked them up, then quickly unlocked the clinic’s door and she hurried inside. “Is he still out there?” she called as she ran to the window, her lungs bursting, desperate for air.

  To her relief, she saw the truck’s rear end while Jacob rushed after it.

  She sank into one of the chairs and put her head in her hands, blinked away angry tears burning hot behind her eyes. Only one person wanted revenge, wanted her death even. Gulping in air, she tried to stop her heart from galloping and drumming its insistent beats telling her to run away, escape.

  She’d never be free of him. Vance Riley hadn’t changed. And until they found him, she wouldn’t have a normal life.

  Jacob raced after the truck, cursing himself a thousand times over for not bringing his damn gun with him to the clinic. He could have popped the tires and stopped the bastard if he’d had taken his Glock to physical therapy.

  Mud obliterated the fucking truck’s license plate, but he had the make and model color. Black Durango, current year’s model. He cruised to a stop, then yanked his cell phone out of his back pocket. No point in wasting more time going after the jerk. He punched in the sheriff’s number, and reported the incident to the deputy in charge. Afterward, he called Hank and gave him the 411 while returning to the rehab clinic.

  “No plates. But there’s front end damage,” he said, finishing up the call before he stepped inside.

  He heard Claire before he saw her sitting, folded over herself, rocking in one of the chairs. A band tightened around his chest, making it even harder to breathe.

  Fuck. He hated when women cried. He hated even more when the people who made them cry should be slobbering in jail, paying for their crimes.

  Jacob strode to Claire, crouched in front her, then tentatively touched her back. “Hey,” he said softly. “You’re going to be okay. I promise.” But deep down, he worried if his injury would prevent him from keeping his word.

  A shudder traveled through her shoulders and she sniffed, shaking her head no without looking up. “He’s out there, I know it now,” she said, her voice raspy and rough. “But I don’t know how he got here so fast. I… I…” She gulped in air and sniffed over and over again. “I want this to go away. All of it.”

  “I know you do,” Jacob said, stroking her back. “I’ll make sure it’ll happen. Does he have any family in Atlanta? Kids?” Maybe someone else had a grudge against Claire besides Vance.

  “His immediate family left Atlanta for Seattle a year after the sentencing. Mrs. Riley remarried and their two kids went with her,” she said. “I haven’t heard anything about Mark or Sally since then. Not that they’d want to talk to me anyway.”

  “I’ll run their names through the Internet,” he said. “See if anything turns up.”

  Another shudder wracked through her body, then she stilled beneath his touch. “We could have been killed,” she whispered, lifting her face from her hands.

  He brushed a stray tear from her cheek, continued moving his hand up and down her back, soothing her as he would an injured animal. “But we weren’t,” he said quietly. “And we’re going to catch him. You got that?”

  She sniffed again. “Yes. We are,” Claire said, raising her chin a little more and straightening up. “We have to because I refuse to let him win.”

  “The sheriff’s on his way over,” he said carefully while easing into the chair next to hers. “You up to giving him a statement?”

  The clinic’s door opened and a chime sounded. He looked up to see Dorie walk inside, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. She hurried to them, saying, “I can’t believe what almost happened. Are you hurt?”

  “No, I’m okay. We both are… I hope.” She tentatively probed his shoulder. “You too?”

  A zip of electricity traveled through him and landed south. The shoulder hurt like hell. Not that he cared when another part of him had grown uncomfortably tight. “I’m good,” he lied. Because despite all the worry about her safety, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to be bad. Very, very bad with her in all the right ways.

  “You’re sure?”

  He swallowed hard, and filled his mind with the details of the crime which brought his racing urges to a standstill. For now. “Positive.”

  She turned to Dorie. “There’s something I need to tell you. I can’t let you get into harm’s way because of me.”

  The band around Jacob’s chest released and warmth radiated through his body. Claire had overcome so much and had wanted to keep her past squarely where it belonged to protect herself, but she’d parked the idea the minute she realized the people around her could be impacted.

  “Okay, but first I’m calling our afternoon clients and rescheduling their appointments,” Dorie returned to the clinic’s door and locked it. “Besides, you’re in no shape to work now. I take it you know what Claire has to say.” She returned to the ba
nk of chairs and stood opposite Jacob.

  He nodded. “Sheriff does too. He’s contacting the authorities in Atlanta to check on him. Hank’s got the Brotherhood Protectors on standby.”

  Beside him, Claire heaved in another breath of air. “Why would he come after me now?” she asked. “He’s free. Why can’t he leave me alone?”

  He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Because he’s a twisted individual. Period.” The jerk had to be to do what he’d done—and what he’d tried to do.

  “I’m getting you water,” Dorie said firmly. “What you have to say can wait until the sheriff gets here to take your statement. There’s no point in rehashing this twice.”

  “I agree.” Jacob stood and pain lanced through his arm. “I could use a couple of pain killers too.” He hated admitting his weakness but he couldn’t hide his grimace if he tried.

  “Jacob, you are hurt.” Claire bolted out of her chair and immediately ran her hand over his right shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me? You might have made matters worse when you carried me. I’m sorry. So so sorry.”

  Her caress reignited the electricity he’d barely managed to tamp down minutes ago. Every zap raced south and charged into his groin. More erotic images flashed in his brain. And they weren’t going anywhere while her hands gently moved on him.

  “You’re not the reason I’m hurting,” he said. “The guy driving the truck deserves the credit.” But the woman innocently examining him definitely caused him considerable pain below the waist.

  “I’m still going to do what I can to take care of you,” she said.

  “Ah well … I’ll just go get the water and will Motrin suffice?” Dorie asked, her gaze ping-ponging between them as if she saw the electricity sparking along Claire’s fingertips and into his shoulder.

  “About 800 milligrams might do the trick.”

  “Got it,” she said, then hurried to the back room.

  He almost asked for an ice pack, but it’d take a cooler full to chill the heat pumping in his veins. Instead, he settled for channeling all his energy into reviewing the details of the case once more. Remembering the panic in Claire’s wide eyes and the sheer terror in her voice did the trick.

  The sheriff arrived by the time Dorie returned with their waters and pain relievers. Jacob downed the pills, then recounted the events of the afternoon’s near-miss. Claire filled in the gaps for Dorie so she’d be up to speed about what and who to look out for in the future.

  Sheriff Wilson jotted down the details in his notebook. “There’s a chance it’s a kid high on weed or opiates who almost ran you down,” he said.

  “But… but wait, there’s something I forgot,” Claire said. “The guy driving. I couldn’t see his face.”

  “Because you were running for your life,” the sheriff said.

  “No. I remember now… he had on a ski mask,” she said.

  “Good to know.” Sheriff Wilson added the information to his notepad. “But I’ve seen some whacky stuff when people get high.”

  “Sheriff Wilson, I don’t think some kid on drugs tried to run me off the road,” she said. “There’s only one person who hates me enough to want to kill me. Vance Riley.”

  “Perhaps you’re right,” Sheriff Wilson said, then gave Claire his card. “Your case number is on the back. Call if anything else crazy happens. And I’ll need your mobile.”

  Jacob waited for her to rattle off her cell phone number. “Any news about Riley?” he asked.

  “I’ve contacted the corrections department in Georgia to verify if he shows up for his parole appointment.” He shut his notebook and tucked it into his back pocket. “Keep an eye on Claire until you hear from me.”

  “Won’t let her out of my sight.”

  “You’re in good hands with Jacob. You’ll hear from me as soon as I get any news about Riley.” The sheriff walked to the rehab clinic’s entrance. “I’ll let myself out.”

  He exited the clinic and Jacob returned to the women. “Let’s get out of here,” he said. “No point in hanging around if you’re closing the clinic for the afternoon.” Plus, he wanted to touch base with Hank to tell him the situation had accelerated from yellow to red.

  The ibuprofen he’d inhaled hadn’t kicked in yet. Pain still lanced through his shoulder and a dull ache pulsed in his arm because of the near miss, but Jacob refused to let anyone near Claire again. His injury might be worse as a result of his actions today which could extend his recovery time. He’d probably miss his SEAL team’s next rotation, or worse, he’d have to quit altogether.

  But when Claire shot him a grateful, relieved smile, Jacob’s concerns evaporated. He wanted to protect her even if he suffered irreversible consequences, but he’d keep his attraction at bay for her sake. Period. And for his sake too… a tiny voice in his head whispered.

  Chapter 4

  “Coach Riley’s in Georgia,” Claire said after she finished talking with the sheriff later that night. “He also showed up at his parole office early. And he’s got four job interviews lined up. He’s a model parolee.”

  “He can’t be in two places at the same time,” Jacob said while pacing her small living room. “But that doesn’t mean someone else isn’t after you.”

  Jacob’s sheer size overwhelmed the space—hell, it overwhelmed her. He’d been her constant shadow since she’d almost been run off the road. “True.” She watched Jacob move around the room and when he bent over the laptop on her coffee table, she got a great view of his chiseled butt.

  A thrill zipped through her, and thousands of tiny wings fluttered in her stomach. “Yes. But you’ve tracked down Sally and she’s not a suspect anymore.” Riley’s daughter had moved on to get her college degree in education, married a few years later and had delivered her first baby a week earlier.

  “One down and one to go.”

  “Sally said Mark drifted out of their lives after he graduated from high school. They haven’t heard from him in years, but she doesn’t believe her brother held a grudge.”

  “Only because Vance Riley had a thing for beating him up on a regular basis,” he said. “Security cameras are hooked up.” After they’d left the clinic, he’d insisted on driving to Bozeman to pick up extra security equipment at his cost. Then he’d installed the wireless outdoor cameras after arriving at her home.

  “I’ll sleep better at night knowing it’s there.”

  “I’ve got the program set up for four viewers: your laptop, Hank’s cell, mine, and yours. If anyone approaches the front, back or garage, you’ll get an alert before they get within a foot of entering.”

  He straightened and her heart skipped a beat. Jacob’s T-shirt hugged every single muscle to perfection. If only he still expressed any kind of interest in her that way, but ever since the truck almost ran her off the road, he’d been all business.

  She stifled a sigh. So much for convincing him to see her as more than a woman to protect. She forced herself to look away, moved to her sofa and plunked down. “Riley’s in Atlanta and we’ve got my security vamped up, so there’s no reason for you to stay.” But oh, she wanted him to in a totally naughty way.

  Jacob walked to the chair opposite the sofa and leaned against it, his arms crossed. “What happened today scared the shit out of you,” he said. “I promised Hank and the sheriff I’d keep an eye on you.”

  “Only until we’ve resolved the question about Riley’s whereabouts,” she said. “And we have our answer.”

  He raked his gaze over her, then locked those heart stopping blue eyes mesmerizing her with their intensity. “The driver’s still out there.”

  “He was probably some idiot high on meth. Besides, I’m not even sure about the ski mask anymore. Maybe I imagined it.”

  “I should spend the night.”

  Her insides did a little flip and she licked her lips. Sure. The idea of this gorgeous male specimen sleeping mere feet away from her appealed to Claire on way too many levels, but not this way. Not because of an obligation
where he’d gone above and beyond by everything he’d done for her.

  “I’ve got the security cameras. If anything happens, you’ll get an alert too,” she said firmly. “So go. Get your rest. You’ll need it if we’re going to get your shoulder back in fighting shape.” From the way he’d been overusing it today, she worried he’d never fully recover his mobility. She didn’t want his career with the SEALs sidelined because of her.

  “I’ll go on one condition,” he said, pushing away from the chair.

  “What?”

  “Contact me if anything… and I mean anything… freaks you out. I don’t care how trivial.”

  “I will.” She stood, skirted around him and walked to her front door. “I’ll see you on Monday for your next appointment. Do the exercises I gave you until then. We’ll have to rebuild the muscles around your rotator cuff.” She’d focus on why he’d see her again, not the events of the day or the rush of heat flowing through her veins.

  “I’ll pop by early in the morning to pick you up and bring you to the clinic.”

  “I don’t need a ride.”

  “Yeah, but I want to make sure you get to the clinic in one piece,” he said, flashing her a smile. “You know. To make sure you can continue torturing me.”

  “Ha. Fine,” she said. “Pick me up at seven thirty and I’ll treat you to coffee.”

  He left, but an hour later, when she walked past the front window, she spotted his SUV parked across the street. She sighed. Stubborn had to be Jacob Lawson’s middle name, but his determination to be her knight in shining armor endeared him to her even more and her heart skipped a beat. A girl could get used to having Jacob Lawson in her world.

  Especially this girl.

  However, by the time the following Friday afternoon had rolled around, she’d have given anything to figure out how to lose her constant shadow. “I really don’t need you hovering this much when you’re not even getting paid,” she said to Jacob while she locked the clinic’s entrance. “Frankly, you’re never going to get better if you keep bunking outside my house in your SUV. Riley isn’t a problem, the accident had nothing to do with him.” But ever since Jacob had signed on to be her de facto temporary protector, he’d expressed zero interest in her, other than as his physical therapist.