Stirring Attraction(12)

Lily let out a laugh. After all this time, after all her attempts to build a future with this man, he’d come back to patrol her street. But she wanted a false sense of security about as much as she wanted empty promises.

I’ll try to make it work, Lil. I promise.

But then he’d deploy with his rangers and send an email listing a bunch of bullshit reasons why she was better off without him. And then after he’d been shot . . .

I’m no good for you, Lil. Look at me. I’m all busted up. I don’t want you wasting your life taking care of me. You’ve done that once. I won’t let you do it again.

Well, now she was broken too. And she refused to let him waste his time watching out for a threat he didn’t believe existed.

No, she wanted security. She needed to feel safe to move through her life, knowing they’d identified and caught her assailant. But Dominic Fairmore was nothing more than a quick fix that would offer a false refuge only to pull it away. She couldn’t trust him to stay, to help her, or to believe her.

“If I need a bodyguard, I choose her,” Lily said, pointing to the woman who wore combat boots to clean dishes. “I want the woman who knows how to throw a pie at my supposedly nonexistent bogeyman.”





Chapter Four


DOMINIC LICKED HIS lips. He could taste the sugar from the pie and recognized the Oregon berry. Hell, it was like being assaulted with a blast from his past as soon as he arrived in town. Ryan had shoved him off the red-­eye flight, directed him to the car rental counter, and handed him the key to Noah’s bar. Then his childhood friend had boarded a flight home to the air force base.

And Dominic had driven back in time. He could practically hear his mom laughing as he licked the bowl. The smell of fresh pie used to fill the farmhouse kitchen once upon a time. And then one day it had stopped. His mother had succumbed to a heart condition no one knew she had, leaving behind a son who wanted to make damn sure he left his mark on the world before his life was cut short.

Yeah, one helluva mark.

He glanced down at his injured hand. He’d tried to wipe the food from his face and his damn fingers had failed to comb through his beard.

He looked up at Lily, his eyes searching for the scars. He wanted to see what that bastard had done to her. But her long blond hair caught his attention and new memories swirled to life. His hands wrapped in her long locks . . . pulling her head back as he pressed into her from behind . . .

Fuck.

He looked away and fought to control the unwelcome need rushing through him. But this was Lily, the only woman he’d ever made love to, the only woman he’d craved since he was a teenager Though if he added up Lily’s desire to have the petite dark-­haired woman protect her, the one who had used a pie as a weapon simply because she couldn’t shoot him, and the fact that Lily had tried to hit him with her wine glass, he could quickly reach the conclusion that her feelings didn’t mirror his.

Lily wanted him gone. She didn’t want his help. And he’d bet that if he tried to touch her, she would throw something else at him. He didn’t want to think about what she’d do if he attempted to revisit that place where he could sink into her and love her.

Beating back his desire, he stole another glance at her face. This time he spotted the proof that someone had taken a knife to her. A thin line ran down her cheek. It was fading, but still visible. He knew other cut marks lay beneath her long-­sleeve crew-­neck shirt. Behind the picture of the old mechanical Big Buck’s bull across her torso, one slash had come close to tearing up her stomach and hitting her internal organs. Ryan had filled him in on the details on the flight.

He looked up, straight into her beautiful blue eyes. There was a ferocity there that threatened to break him. She was still so damn beautiful. But the sweet innocence was gone. And he didn’t see a trace of the playful humor she’d reserved for him.

Or maybe someone else now. . .

His jaw tightened and he swallowed in an attempt to beat back the jealousy. He’d lived with it on and off for years, telling himself she was better off with someone who wasn’t hell-­bent on being a soldier first and a man second.

But if she had someone, where the hell was he? Why was she eating pie in a closed bar in the middle of the night?

“No,” the other woman said, shattering the taut silence. “I can’t. I can’t keep anyone safe. Not when I still . . . I can’t.”

“Caroline, I wasn’t asking,” Lily said. “I just need him to leave.”

The other woman—­Caroline—­took a step back and moved to the side of the bar. “Let’s call Noah.”