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

by Christine Glover

  A protector determined to keep his hands off her unless she needed rescuing.

  “I still haven’t located Mark.”

  “Which means he’s nowhere near Eagle Rock. You’ve got a picture of him from his mother and his last known address in Seattle,” she said. “No one here has seen him around here so I’m done worrying.” She’d had enough of Jacob’s unwillingness to let the matter drop and treat her like a normal woman who might, if he asked, go out on a date with him. Instead she had a date with a bowl of popcorn, and a classic romance movie featuring Cary Grant. She’d call her mother sometime during the evening to check in too.

  “I bet you just want to keep listening to the podcaster you’ve got a crush on.”

  “He’s not my type,” she said, referring to the guy who hosted her favorite broadcast. His movie reviews and roundups were hilarious, biting, insightful. Not that Jacob ever agreed whenever she’d subjected him to one of the Reel 2 Real broadcasts.

  “Oh yeah?” He placed his hand on the wall beside the door and gave her a sexy smile. “What is?”

  She heard the teasing lilt in his voice and caught the hint of mischief in the way the left corner of his mouth twitched. “Available would be a good start.” Which Jacob had made clear he was not. Not anymore.

  He laughed. “I’ll walk you to your car.” Jacob held out his hand. “Make sure you get there safely before I head to Blue Moose Tavern.”

  She hesitated, then took his hand. Heat zipped through her skin, firing into all her lady parts. The man possessed potent pheromones which made him incredibly difficult to resist. But she resisted just the same… she didn’t want to but she didn’t typically make the first move or pursue casual relationships.

  Though she could be persuaded given the right incentive, particularly if he gave her a sign he wanted to spend time with her beyond his ongoing sense of duty. Even after she clearly didn’t require those services. After all, Jacob ticked all the boxes in her I’d-like-to-get-to-know-you-better box with his handsome, freckled face, broad shoulders, perfectly sculpted abdomen and a chiseled butt that begged for caresses. Caresses she’d dreamed about for days.

  “I’ll see you next week.” She let go of his hand and opened her car door.

  “I’ll drive by to check on you later.”

  Grrrr. She’d rather he ask her out to Blue Moose for a drink and follow her back to her place afterward. But she suppressed the thought, knowing he’d acquiesce to insure her safety. “Please don’t. It’s not like you’re getting paid to watch over me, so I don’t need you doing me any more big favors.” She jerked her door shut, then switched on her engine and backed out of her parking spot without giving him a second look.

  She had to get him out of her system. Period.

  After she drove home, she indulged in all her favorite Girls’ Night activities followed by a long FaceTime chat with her mother which mostly obliterated Jacob from her brain. But as soon as she crawled into bed and rested her head against the pillow, a million thoughts whirled through her brain.

  One stopped spinning long enough to hold her attention… she punched the pillow and turned around… damn him with his devilishly gorgeous face, laughing blue eyes. And damn him for his wickedly tempting grin, with just enough charm to make her want to believe he liked her that way. Jacob Lawson had gotten under her skin and made her want things she couldn’t have.

  She wanted his hands on her body, caressing her naked skin, making her crave him and reach for him… reach for more… more of his lips on hers, his mouth gliding away and trailing down her jaw and lower… something clenched deep between her thighs.

  No. She didn’t act on crazy impulses no matter how much her insane hormones kicked up into gear. Channeling her resolve and putting said hormones into a much needed timeout, she rolled over and buried beneath the covers, determined to kick Jacob out of her mind—permanently.

  The gorgeous SEAL didn’t obey her mental command… and her long neglected hormones pinged her constant reminders.

  But when her cell phone vibrated on her nightstand and she rolled over to answer the call, her dreams scattered, replaced by icy fingers of dread squeezing the base of her neck.

  No one spoke. Only the sound of breathing, soft and steady, resonated.

  “Who is this?” she demanded, terror clogging her throat, making it difficult to speak.

  No answer. Her heart slowed in her chest. And the blood flowing through her veins seemed to turn to sludge. Grateful for the lights illuminating her bedroom and the corridor beyond, she managed to swallow the bile and thick coat of nausea threatening to project out of her. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  The breathing grew heavier. Heavier like he was running… or something far more disturbing… he sounded aroused. Claire shot out of bed, the book she’d been reading clattering to the floor. Ran to the window to check the blinds to see if anyone lingered outside. Everything looked peaceful, but the noises coming from the cell phone intensified… guttural male moans cut through the quiet.

  Air whooshed through her ears and black dots swam into her vision. She wanted to sink to the ground and curl into a ball. No. No. No. She’d never let anyone frighten her into doing nothing. She didn’t do it fourteen years ago. She wouldn’t do it now.

  Claire gulped deep breaths and hung up as she moved away from the window and into the hallway. She scrolled through her contacts, searching for Jacob’s number. Before she pressed the call button, her phone vibrated in her hand again.

  Adrenaline shot through her and the painful tingling sensations had her dropping the phone to the floor. She collapsed to her knees, picked it up and read the screen. Private caller again. Dread crawled inside of her chest cavity and raked over her constricted lungs. Don’t answer. Don’t tempt him. Don’t encourage him…

  The damn phone vibrated in her hand. More adrenaline spiked, stinging her palm, and burning through her skin. She declined the call with trembling fingers, then texted Jacob.

  I’m terrified.

  After Jacob left the Blue Moose Tavern, he drove by Claire’s place and parked across the street. As always, the lights inside glowed. Though they’d been reassured daily that Riley had shown up for his parole officer appointments with the punctuality of a Boy Scout, something niggled at the back of his brain.

  And Jacob never ignored his spider sense. It had gotten him out of more dangerous situations than he could count on both hands.

  He’d read the trial transcripts and all the archived media reports last weekend. The details of the case had made him want to fly straight to Georgia to kick the jerk’s ass. Nothing else mattered. Not the fact that the bastard had served fourteen years for three counts of vehicular manslaughter while driving under the influence, nor his current stellar parole report card, made Jacob want to give the man a pass for good behavior.

  Riley might be in Georgia. But the truck that had almost hit Claire hadn’t been found. Nor had the driver. And though she questioned her memory about the dude wearing a ski mask, Jacob had watched her juggle multiple clients during rehab and she never missed a beat. He didn’t doubt her one bit. The person driving the truck and the man he’d chased from the clinic had to be connected. Maybe they were the same person. Up until Vance Riley’s release, Claire hadn’t experienced any threats. Now she’d gone through two frightening incidents within a week.

  Whoever was after Claire had to be connected to Vance Riley.

  His son Mark ticked the top of his radar. The kid could have carried on dear old Dad’s grudge.

  He glanced at the clock on his dashboard. Ten o’clock. Night had fallen an hour ago and the moon illuminated Claire’s front yard and flower boxes. Everything seemed peaceful… maybe too much so… the skin on the back of his neck prickled.

  No one stirred or moved outside. His cell phone hadn’t spouted an alert via the security cameras he’d installed last Monday. But he didn’t ignore the signals his body sent him.

  He unbuckled the seatbelt and p
ushed the seat back to a slight recline. Though he was sure Claire would rake him over the proverbial coals for putting his shoulder through another shitty night’s sleep, he’d stay put just in case. Maybe she’d even reward him with one of those electro stimulator magic vibrator treatments for it. Or a massage…

  Vibrator… massage. Man. He shouldn’t have thought about vibrators and massages with Claire in the same brain waves. Nope. But the image he currently had running through his mind beat the heck out of imagining her hooking up with some lame-o podcaster.

  Not because he was jealous of the guy. Or was he?

  Oh hell no. Her favorite podcaster was glib, sarcastic with a dry wit and came across as a smart man. Jacob wasn’t stupid and had done well in school, but he’d preferred being outdoors doing physical activities over sedentary shit like poking his nose in books.

  Maybe Claire preferred brainiacs over men like him. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t going to cross the line with her. He wanted her, but he didn’t want to take advantage of her trust only to leave her behind. Then he’d have to deal with his family and friends bugging him about her later on. Plus, he needed a clean slate before rejoining the SEAL team after his shoulder got better.

  But her fascination with the podcaster bugged the shit out of him. She’d even sent the dude fan mail. Yep. Smart guys appealed to her, not tough guys who craved adventure and excitement. Damn it.

  Why the hell did he even care what kind of man she wanted?

  Because you like her way more than you want to admit. And the only reason you’re holding off is because she’s different. Special.

  He peered at her house again, noting her shadow behind the blinds as she moved in her living room, then out of view as she walked away. Most likely to her bedroom… another naughty image featuring Claire tangled in the sheets with him flashed.

  An owl hooted in the distance, and a small SUV drove toward his. He straightened, his muscles tense, coiled, then relaxed as the red Jeep cruised by and continued toward the shadowed mountains in the distance.

  Fuck. He needed to shake the idea from his horny brain before he made a fool of himself. Hunkering down, he whipped out his cell phone and called up a mindless game app. Busting candies on the screen would take his mind off Claire.

  Ten minutes later, he read her text.

  Shit. He replied, telling her to stay put until he banged on the front door. His heart in his throat, he exited his SUV, scanned the area for any sign of life while rushing to her entrance.

  “Thank God you didn’t listen to me,” Claire said as she let him in.

  “I only obey my commanding officer.” He quickly moved inside and she closed the door, snicking the lock into place. “There’s no one outside. So tell me what’s got you spooked?”

  “Anonymous calls.” She held out her cell phone. “I’ve had two within five minutes.”

  He took it and read her recent calls’ screen. “What kind of calls? Threats?” he asked as they walked into her living room which was adjacent to the foyer.

  “Heavy breathing, and it sounded … like he was getting off. He moaned and panted and… I think I heard something rubbing on skin. Fast.” She sank into one of the plush chairs, then brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them. “I’m scared it might be Coach Riley.”

  “He’s in Georgia, but there’s nothing stopping him from making skeezie long distance calls.” Now Jacob definitely wanted to teach Riley a lesson that went way beyond jail time, which clearly hadn’t reformed the bastard if he’d placed those calls. “First thing tomorrow we’re getting you a new phone, then I’ll attempt to trace the calls.”

  “You can do that?” she asked.

  “Not easily.” Jacob paced the room, restless, and wishing he could do something now. But he’d have to wait until morning to contact Hank to get started. “Every cell phone can be tracked and traced, but if he paid cash I’ll have to find the original store and date of the sale.”

  “How would you do it if you’re here?”

  “Hank’ll help us.” Jacob had given Hank an update about Coach Riley’s ongoing stellar parole performance in addition to voicing his frustration that the truck and driver hadn’t turned up when he’d been at Blue Moose. “He’s assisting Sheriff Wilson with the hunt for the damn truck driver.”

  “He’s doing too much,” she said, releasing her legs from her arms to sit straighter.

  Which gave Jacob an amazing view of the way her pajama camisole clung to her full breasts. The petal pink fabric didn’t leave much to the imagination. His groin grew uncomfortably tight and he moved behind a high-backed chair… man… focus on the situation, not the woman… for sure not her amazing…

  He scrubbed his face, willing the thunder roaring in his ears to stop. Looking away from her, he said, “Hank said you’re family.”

  “I’m just his sister’s friend.”

  “And Hannah’s. You may have lived in Eagle Rock for less than a year, but you’re not in this alone. You’re officially part of the Brotherhood Protector’s family. And family protects its own.” And he’d volunteered to guard her temporarily. He might not be drawing a paycheck from Hank’s elite team, but he needed to treat this like a mission. And not act on his attraction to Claire, despite the way she made him crave things he really shouldn’t crave at all.

  “I appreciate it,” she said. “And you.”

  “There’s no guarantee we’ll confirm Vance Riley is the caller—burner phones are used by shitheads like him because they know it’s difficult to trace back to them.” He squeezed the top of the chair. “The user information is sketchy at best, but it’s not impossible.”

  “Maybe it was a kid pranking me.”

  “Doubtful.” The heat burning through his veins finally cooling off, now that they were discussing her situation. “I don’t believe the person driving the truck was high.”

  “I better call the sheriff.”

  “You can wait until morning,” he said. “There’s nothing he can do but take a statement. We only have speculations to go on. But I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”

  “You’re staying?”

  Jacob held her beautiful hazel eyes with his, hating the shadows haunting them, but falling hard for the trust reflecting behind the shadows. “Yes. I’m all in.” He fully committed himself to Claire in that moment. There’d be no turning back now regardless of the consequences.

  “I don’t have any place for you to sleep other than my couch and you’re pretty big,” she said.

  “I’ve had worse bunks.” Only those sand holes didn’t have tantalizing women parading around in cute pajamas which highlighted every delicious curve they possessed.

  This one did. And that would make guarding Claire a whole lot trickier.

  Chapter 5

  Saturday morning, Jacob drove Claire to Bozeman where she bought a temporary replacement phone, then they’d popped over to White Oak Ranch to give her cell to Hank. He’d contacted the sheriff who’d met them there and relayed the events that had occurred Friday night. With no leads to go on, and no sign of the missing truck and its driver, the sheriff told them his hands were tied until Monday. Then he’d make sure Vance had at least reported to his parole officer.

  Jacob hadn’t liked the delay, but no one would get to Claire while he bunked at her place. Or they’d suffer serious consequences.

  By the time Monday rolled around, he’d gotten used to staying in Claire’s small house—even watching her favorite movie marathons and listening to Reel 2 Real’s reviews about the movies afterward. Not his bag, but Claire enjoyed the show so he put up with listening to the podcaster’s cutthroat analysis.

  “You all set?” he asked, accidentally bumping into her while scooting around her to load his breakfast dishes into the dishwasher. Heat blazed through the fabric of his T-shirt and zipped south. Shit. He wanted her, but no way would he take advantage of their current living arrangement to act on the need burning through his veins.

&nb
sp; The dishes rattled against each other as he shoved them into the rack, then swiveled out of her way to avoid her tempting body.

  “Almost done.” She swallowed the remainder of her protein shake, then rinsed her glass and popped it into the machine. “I’ll text Mom on the way to Brighter Side to check in.”

  “Good call.”

  Her mother had been on autopilot hover mode ever since Claire had told her about the latest developments, but Jacob couldn’t blame the woman. He’d been in a similar frame of mind from the moment Claire had received the information about Vance Riley’s early release.

  Jacob turned on the security system, then they left her house and within minutes they were on the road to the rehab clinic.

  “Any news?” he asked.

  “So far nothing.”

  Often no news meant good news. But Jacob’s instincts didn’t buy the worn-out cliché. He parked his SUV behind the rehab clinic’s storefront, then checked the area for anything out of the ordinary. “Coast is clear.” He exited and circled to her side. “Is your Mom doing better today?”

  “Yes. I think knowing you’re protecting me has made being so far away a lot easier on her,” Claire said as she unlocked the back.

  They stepped inside and she switched on all the lights while he bolted the backdoor and turned off the security alarm. Minutes later, Dorie arrived followed by the clinic’s first client.

  Jacob touched base with the sheriff’s department. He’d been called to the scene of a multi motor vehicular accident. The dispatcher told them there’d be no news about Vance until he did or didn’t show up for his late afternoon parole appointment according to the officer in charge.

  “So now we wait,” Claire said as she switched on her laptop.