Page 46 of Ruthless Protector

It was late. I wasn’t tired, but I couldn’t relax. I felt guilty, like I had for the last few nights. Where was he sleeping? I could only assume he was staying away because of me, and that made me feel shitty. This was his house. He’d let me live here, rent free, while I found a new job, and even then, hadn’t hassled me for payment. He should be downstairs now.

I went back to the living room and stared out the window, still no bike parked out there. I headed back to the kitchen and sat at the table, pulling my phone from my pocket, and stared down at it. I should call him, but what would I even say?

I clicked open a new message. Maybe a text? Less personal that way.

Was I really going to do this?

I typed something out quickly. Are you staying away because of me?

My finger hovered over the send button.

What was I doing? Sending a message was a stupid idea. Better to just leave things as they were.

“Aunt Willa!”

I jumped, and my thumb came down, accidentally hitting send.

“Shit.” I stared down at the message. Delivered flashed up instantly. My stomach knotted. That message was way too revealing, God, too vulnerable.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I clicked away, unable to look at it, and put my phone face down on the table, like that would somehow make it go away. “What is it, Tils?” I called back.

“I’m thirsty. Can you bring me a drink of water?”

I took her a drink, trying not to think about the message I’d just sent, gave her warm cheek another kiss goodnight after she gulped down half the glass, then tucked her back in. She was asleep again before I walked out the door.

My phone buzzed against the kitchen table while I was putting the glass in the sink. Crap. I sat down heavily at the table at stared down at my phone, like it was a venomous spider, then quickly flipped it over and opened my messages.

On an out of town job. Back Friday.

I groaned and scrubbed my hands over my face. Why the hell had I thought he was avoiding me? He wasn’t some lovesick teenager. He was a grown ass man. Jesus, I’d made a complete and utter fool out of myself.

Another message came through before I could reply, not that I had any idea what to say.

How’s everything back home?

There he went, being goddamn nice again. I quickly typed out a reply. All good here.

That was friendly enough. It didn’t sound snappy, and not over the top forgive-me-for-being-a-bitch either.

I assumed that’d be the end of it, then my phone buzzed again.

Tilly?

Okay, that was…nice, asking after her like that. She’s good too. Though, we’ve had a few issues with a bully at school.

I had no idea why I told him about that, but he seemed to like Tilly, and this kind of felt like waving a white flag. A safe subject.

We text back and forth for a bit, since he wanted to know what was happening. He even gave some pretty good advice, which I appreciated.

Jude: If all else fails, I’ll pick her up from school on my bike and she can point the little fucker out.

I chuckled to myself. I knew he was joking, but it was sweet. Hot on the heels of that thought was of my own ride on the back of his bike. The way my blood had pumped hotly though my veins. The exhilaration. How good it had felt pressed against Jude’s big, hard body. I shivered.

Again, another message came through before I had time to answer, and it was like he’d just read my mind.

I’ll take her aunt for another ride too, if she wants?