Serial Love: Saints Protection & Investigation (8 page)

Pursing her lips, she agreed, “Okay, fine.” She held out her hand for the axe, which he ignored.

Swinging it up on his shoulder he gave a nod toward the shed. “I’ve got it.”

Refusing to argue anymore, she met his nod and turned to walk up the path.
The Paul Bunyan look is good on him
, she thought. Reaching the shed, she opened the door while stepping back to allow him entrance.

His eyes were riveted to her perfect ass showcased in the tight jeans. The tank top she was wearing was slightly stained with sweat and dirt, but looked as good as anything she could have had on as far as he was concerned. As she stopped at an old shed, he forced his eyes to go back to her face.

“Anywhere special?” he asked, looking around the orderly space.

She pointed to a hook on the wall and watched as he replaced the axe in its place. Closing the door behind him, she caught his incredulous expression. “What now?”

“You don’t have a lock on that door?”

“Um, I think Gramps did, but I just haven’t thought about it. Why?”

“Woman, you’ve got a shed full of tools that can be used as weapons, a constant changing group of guests that stay here that you don’t know from shit, and you’re wondering why the shed needs to be locked?” he growled.

Angry because she knew he was right but also because he had to point it out to her, she turned to stomp toward the lodge. He followed in her tracks, making a mental note that a lock was the next thing he planned on buying for her.

Bethany stopped stomping, realizing how childish it was when he was right. She should have a lock on the shed. Heaving a huge sigh, she glanced over her shoulder, seeing him right behind her. And caught him staring at her ass. Her hands immediately swiped at her bottom, fearing there was something she sat in. His eyes jumped up to hers, a twinkle in them letting her know he had been staring at her ass because he wanted to. A warm blush rose across her face as she turned back toward the lodge.

Reaching the shaded front porch, she nodded toward one of the chairs. “Make yourself comfortable and I’ll get some lemonade.” She opened the door then stopped suddenly. “Or would you rather have a beer?”

The crinkles at the corners of his eyes captured her attention as he answered, “Lemonade is fine.” Nodding again, she walked inside. Once clear of the front room, she dashed up the stairs taking them two at a time.

Hurrying into the bathroom, she grabbed a brush and ran it quickly through her thick hair before twisting it up in a knot on top of her head. Wetting a washcloth, she swiped the cool towel over her face before eyeing herself in the mirror.
No makeup, no time.
Shaking her head at the absurdity of trying to impress a man like Jack, she jerked off her stained shirt and pulled on a clean white tank top.

Bounding down the stairs again, she poured two tall glasses of cold lemonade from the refrigerator before moving back to the porch. Her eyes met his immediately, the electricity crackling between them. Suddenly nervous, she simply reached her hand out with the drink.

His fingers slid across hers as he took the glass from her hand. “You gonna sit down too?” His voice was low…smooth. She offered a quick nod and she sat in the rocking chair next to his.

He watched her in silence for a few minutes as she made every attempt to avoid eye contact again. Her hair was pulled up, leaving a few blonde strands to blow in the breeze. Clear blue eyes, matching the cloudless sky. She had changed from the tank top to a clean t-shirt that was modest while still clinging to her curves. He had already perused her ass as she had walked in front of him.
Beautiful, pure fuckin’ beautiful.

“What?” she asked, her gaze jerking to his in confusion.

Hell, I said that aloud,
he realized. “The view, darlin’. The view is beautiful.”

She gifted him with a smile as she turned back toward the vista. From the porch, they could see the trees of the woods across the road with the Blue Ridge Mountains rising in the distance. She loved this view. The tranquility of this place. “It is beautiful here, isn’t it? Do you have this kind of view at your place?”

He chuckled, realizing she thought he was talking about the mountains. “No darlin’, I don’t have this beauty on my land. At least not right now,” he replied, his eyes still on her.
But maybe? Don’t have a clue how that would work out, but just maybe.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes allowing the breeze and shade to fight back the early summer heat.

“Why are you really here?” she finally asked softly, twisting to look at the handsome man sharing her porch.

He looked discomfited for a moment before shaking his head slightly. “Hell if I know,” he replied under his breath. Turning to look at her, he said, “Actually I wanted to check on you and your grandmother to make sure you were all right.”

She nodded, disappointed, but understood he felt a responsibility. “I appreciate that and we’re fine. In fact, Gram’s scratches are barely noticeable.”

“Yeah, I saw her when I first came.”

“Oh.” Not able to think of anything else to say, she remained quiet.

“I also brought you something,” he added, setting the glass onto the porch railing and reaching into his pocket. Her interest captured, she watched as he pulled out a sturdy, metal bracelet.

Turning toward her, he said, “This is for your grandmother.”

“Gram? You’re giving Gram a bracelet?” she asked in confusion.

He chuckled, “This is a tracking bracelet. We’ll attach it around her ankle and she won’t be able to take it off. It’ll feel a little weird at first to her, but she’ll soon become accustomed.”

“Tracking?”

He pointed to the center of the bracelet where a flat disc was located. “There’s a tiny electronic tracer inside. If she ever wanders away, then you call us. Luke has already programmed it into our system and we’d be able to pinpoint her anywhere. It’s waterproof and won’t need the battery changed for a long time.”

She was speechless as she gazed at his outstretched hand, offering her a gift that was so much more than the bracelet. It was a gift of safety for Gram and peace of mind for her.

“I…I…don’t know what to say,” she said. Her eyes filled with tears as she blinked furiously to battle them back.

“Don’t gotta say anything. You’re doing a lot here and this’ll take a worry off of your plate.”

She turned the disk over in her hand and saw an intricate inscription with SPI on the back. Lifting her questioning gaze back to his, he answered her silent question, “Saints Protection & Investigations. That’s the name of my company.”

Nodding slightly, she fingered the bracelet, tracing the engraved letters. “You said Luke could…um…track it?”

“I run a security operation,” he replied, his eyes finding and holding hers. “I’ve got the equipment—”

“I can’t afford the service,” she said, handing the bracelet back to him as understanding dawned on her. It was not just a bracelet, but a continuing, expensive tracking system.

He swung his large body around so that he was facing her, taking her hand in his while pulling it toward him. Placing the bracelet in her palm, he continued, “I’ve got the equipment and the means. No cost to you. No cost to Ann. Just the satisfaction of knowing that you’re not pounding the path through the woods some night looking for her.”

And there is was again…the feeling that someone understood that what she needed was peace. Her fingers closed around the bracelet and she nodded as she wiped a lone tear with her other hand.

“Thank you. I…it’s hard. Seeing someone you love stop being that person,” she admitted quietly. “She’s always been so spry. So vibrant. And smart…Jesus, she had a quick wit that kept us all in stitches.”

Taking another sip of lemonade, she added, “But now, she lives mostly in the past, a little bit in the now, and sometimes in her own little world she has made up.”

He leaned back in his seat, picking his lemonade up again. The quiet of the afternoon was occasionally broken by the laughter ringing from the lake where the Taylor family and others were enjoying the summer fun. Jack stayed silent, figuring if she wanted to talk, she would; and would do it easier if he was not filling the void with useless conversation.
Don’t know what the hell I’m doing here, but come on girl. Trust me. Let me in, even if just a little.

“My grandparents bought this land right after they got married with some of granddad’s Army money,” she said, her eyes still on the vista in front of her.

He knew this from the search Luke had done but kept that to himself.
Stories were better told by the persons involved anyway.

“He knew carpentry and they built the first cabin and lived in it while working the next one. He wasn’t trained in marketing, but Gramps understood people. Knew what they wanted and what they’d come for. He advertised it as a honeymoon getaway and by the time he had built five cabins, they were full most year ’round.” She chuckled, adding, “He’d say that he didn’t have to offer too many things to keep people busy if they were on their honeymoon.”

Jack smiled, acknowledging her grandfather had been an intuitive man.

She saw his smile and felt the tingle straight through her. With her grandfather’s small stature and Jack’s huge presence, they could not have looked more different. And yet there was a strong similarity. Gramps knew what people needed and worked to provide it. Feeling the bracelet still clutched in her hand, she knew that Jack shared the same trait.

“After cabin five, he built this lodge with the apartment on the second floor and the office, reception, and lodge room below. They only had one son, my dad, so it was big enough for them. Then he finished through to cabin ten.”

The silence was disturbed by the fishermen driving back in once more. She threw her hand up in a wave and watched it returned.

Jack spied it too, but with a completely different reaction. He saw the look on the men’s faces—the same one he had when he looked at her.
Goddamn, she’s a beauty and got no fucking clue how much of a beauty, which only made her more attractive.
A flash of something new, something different flew through him. Smart enough to recognize jealousy, he tamped that emotion down, struggling with wanting her and wanting her safe. And not sure how his lifestyle could accomplish both.

Bethany, unaware of the thoughts of the man sitting next to her, continued. “Gramps and Gram had a good life here. He died about three years ago and she’s been doing okay on her own.”

At this, he swung his gaze back to hers, knowing how much work she was putting into running the place now.

She saw his questioning expression and quickly added, “With some help of course. My parents were professors at Richland State University until just this past year when they were offered a position with research capability in Arizona. Dad and mom helped out a lot. By then I was out of college with a business and marketing degree working for an ad agency in Richland.”

“You gave up your life?” he asked, already knowing the answer and that she quit a decent paying job.

She shrugged, “Yeah. I mean, I liked the job and the people, but…” She looked back at the mountains and sighed. “But look at that. I’ve always loved that. And Gram needed me. I couldn’t let this place be sold or get run down.”

“So you took all this on yourself?”

“I’ve got help. Sally does the cabin cleaning and Roscoe does the handiwork around.”

The warm vibe changed once again to chilly as he stood, moving his large body to lean against the rail as he peered down at her. “You’ve got a man here to do handiwork?” Jack asked, his voice still low, but growling this time. Before she could answer, he continued, “So why the fuck were you out with an axe today?”

“I’m not helpless,” she protested. “He’s off today and I saw a job that needed to be done so I did it.”

He leaned back, letting his breath out slowly, as though counting. Frustration warred with anger inside of him.

“Jack, I’m not sure what’s happening here,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his. “We’ve only been around each other a couple of times and every time I find myself confused. You seem angry and then interested and then pull away.”

He stared at her face, so full of pure honesty it almost hurt. Her beauty pulled him in—made him want the things in life that he had assumed were not for him. Relationships. Love. Family. He dealt in a world of missions, violence, and money being paid to get things done. Things that others could not get done.
And she’s got no fuckin’ place in that world.

His thoughts warred with each other, then finally gave in to the darker side of his mind. Pushing away from the rail, he gave her a curt nod. “Just being neighborly,” he lied. “Make sure you secure that bracelet around Ann’s ankle ’cause we’ve already got it on our radar.” With one last head jerk, he stalked down the steps and to his truck, leaving her sitting on the porch.

As his vehicle pulled out of sight, she stood sighing heavily, disappointment filling her soul. It had been so long since she was interested in a man. Someone more than an occasional date. His rugged handsome looks drew her in, but it was his intensity that had held her gaze
. As though he would stop at nothing to slay my dragons. And then…nothing.
Sighing again deeply, she looked down at the bracelet in her hand. It was a very nice gift. For a neighbor from a neighbor. A neighbor who was tying himself to her whether or not he realized it.

Snagging the two glasses off of the porch, she headed inside to find Gram and start dinner.

T
he humid night
was dark and few stars shone with the impending storm. The campus was sparsely populated in the summer with fewer students taking in classes. The parking lot lights gave off very little illumination and it was easy to stand in the shadows and hide. The wind gust caught his coat, whipping it out for a second before he grabbed it back, buttoning the front securely.

Who have I seen here lately? Who comes to the library night after night?
A dark haired girl pushed open the heavy doors. He watched her come out of the library and down the steps.
Yes, I recognize you from the other night.
Studying. You’ve been studying. Such a good girl…always a good girl until they become sluts. And they all become sluts.