Page 53 of Ruthless Protector

I gave her a squeeze. “Let me go get you a tissue and we’ll work out the best way to handle this together, okay?”

She nodded, lower lip quivering.

I rushed out, grabbed the box of tissues from the bathroom, and detoured to the kitchen for the pack of chocolate cookies I had stashed, and two tall glasses of milk. No, eating our feelings wasn’t a great idea, but right then, I didn’t really care, and as far as I was concerned, milk and cookies was a known cure-all. Or at least it helped, if only for as long as the cookies lasted.

I walked into the living room and pulled up short, almost dropping the glasses. Tilly was on my phone.

I quickly put everything down on the coffee table, and barely resisted snatching it from her hand. “Who are you talking to, Tils?” I tried to keep the fear out of my voice, terrified it was Trent.

“Jude. He called,” she said, and smiled wide. “He’s going to pick me up from school tomorrow on his bike!”

What? I held my hand out. “Can I have the phone, Tilly.”

“I have to go now,” she said down the line. “See you tomorrow, Jude. You’re the best. Blake’s gonna shit bricks when he sees you on your Harley.” Then she giggled at whatever Jude said while she wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeve, cheeks rosy now, eyes bright.

Finally, she handed over the phone, grabbed two cookies, a glass of milk, and walked out. “I’ll be in my room,” she called. “I need to pick something badass to wear tomorrow.”

I stared after my niece, stunned at the transformation, and finally remembered to call after her, “Watch your language,” before I lifted the phone to my ear. “You can’t be serious?” I said to Jude.

“I was, is that a problem?” he rumbled, in that deep, gritty voice.

I realized I’d missed that voice. I’d heard it in my head when I’d read his texts, but nothing compared to the real thing. Jude Wayland had a great voice.

I mentally shook myself. “Well, for one, you should have asked if it was okay with me.”

He was quiet a beat, then, “Hey, Willa, can I pick up Tilly on my bike tomorrow?”

I growled, and he chuckled. My skin got tingly. “How the hell can I say no now?”

“I guess you can’t.” I heard someone talking in the background, a male voice. “I gotta go, but don’t worry, okay? I’ve got a helmet she can wear,” he said, his voice getting rougher. “She’ll be safe. I’d never take any stupid risks. You can trust me with her.”

I held the phone tighter, warmth spreading, curling in my belly. “Can you text me when you leave school?”

“Whatever you need, babe, you got it.”

Another shiver. I wanted to be mad at him—for being heavy handed, for assuming I’d agree, for being so damn overbearing—but I couldn’t, not after seeing the smile on Tils’ face. Not after he’d made the fears and the sadness go away. My baby girl would sleep easier tonight, and that was because of Jude.

How could I be mad at him for that?

“Thanks,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say.

“No problem.”

There was a charged silence. Then I remembered he’d called me. “So, you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yeah.”

When he said no more, I said, “You got your guy?”

“Yep.”

“So…”

“So what?”

“So why did you call?”

“Wanted to hear your voice.”