Stirring Attraction(29)

Dominic raised an eyebrow. “A five-­year-­old would know that?”

“You’d be amazed at what they pick up. On the first day of school last year, one of my kids informed me that her parents always sleep naked.”

“Another important fact to know for dismissal time?”

“Not exactly.”

He glanced down at the list. “What about this last name?”

She sighed. “Mitch kept trying to send his son to school with a peanut butter sandwich. And we’re a nut-­free school. He is hotheaded, but not the right build.”

“He could have hired someone,” Dominic pointed out.

“Over peanut butter?”

“Didn’t say it was likely, but it’s a place to start.” He folded the list and slipped it into his pocket.

“You really are taking this seriously.” She stood and came face-­to-­chest with a wall of muscle covered in a plain black T-­shirt. She placed her palms against his chest and looked up at him. “Thank you for believing me.”

“You’ve never lied to me.” He covered her left hand with his right. “And it’s not like I have a lot going on right now. I’ve got the time to play detective.”

Her free hand moved as if needing to touch more, to feel his skin. She traced the curve of muscle through his shirt. She reached the neckline and traveled over his collarbone to his throat. He’d possessed a powerful body before he’d been shot. And while he’d lost weight during his recovery, he’d clearly spent the months since his release working out. She could feel the power beneath her fingers.

She glanced up. His beard appeared wild. But ­coupled with the long hair, the facial hair seemingly softened the football star turned soldier.

What would it feel like to kiss him?

His beard had blown past the scratchy phase weeks, maybe even months, ago. Not that his facial hair stood between a kiss and walking away. She couldn’t escape the fact that this man wasn’t right for her. As soon as he found her attacker and made sure she was safe, he’d leave again. He always left.

But then what was the harm in kissing him now?

This time, she knew going in that he wasn’t permanent. She’d spent so long believing she could have a future with this man. But over the past six years, she’d come to terms with what she needed from a relationship—­permanence and trust. If she ever pulled herself together and broke free from this nightmare, she could find a man who could deliver both—­and maybe the family she craved. If she found him, she could fall in love again. Right now, she was too broken, living in fear of the dark, her shadow, her own closet . . .

And so was Dominic.

OK, he probably wasn’t terrified by the thought of opening the door to his closet to pick out shoes. And if the bogeyman—­or the guy from the park—­tried anything with him, well, Dominic would likely take him out. She had a feeling he could do it with his bad hand tied behind his back.

Still . . .

After all this time, maybe they were finally in the right place, at the right time in their lives, to be just enough for each other in the present.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” she said, keeping her voice low as she ran her hand over his beard and cupped his jaw. “But I’m going to kiss you.”

She detected a hint of a smile beneath his beard. “Just so we’re clear, what is the wrong way?”

She rose up on her tiptoes and pulled her other hand free from his hold. “This kiss isn’t an incentive to do a little detective work.”

“You’re not trying to bribe me with kisses?”

She ran her fingers through his hair. “I’d start lower if that was my plan. And the um, evidence”—­she stole a quick glance at his lower half—­“beneath my head last night suggests that you’d agree.”

His left hand brushed her chin, tilting it back until her gaze met his. “No, I’d start with your lips. But, honey, I know I make a better bodyguard than a boyfriend for you—­”

“I don’t need a boyfriend right now. I just need—­”

Crash!

Her body tensed and her fingers dug into Dominic as she swallowed the word “you.” Fear dominated her senses, stripping away the desire as if her need to kiss the man holding her close was nothing more than a Band-­Aid waiting to be ripped off. She heard footsteps, but she couldn’t see who had burst in.

Because her “bodyguard” had taken control.

Dominic pulled her close as he guided their bodies back, away from the desk, and through the partially open door leading to the bathroom. “You’re all right,” he murmured. “You’re safe.”