Page 33 of Cowboy’s Last Stand (His to Protect #1)

J ason spent the morning working and brooding.

He’d screwed up royally with Natalie, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

So he fixed something else, as usual. He tinkered with the truck’s engine, cranking gears and tightening bolts until his knuckles bled.

His mood was foul, so he didn’t expect success.

He knew from experience that a calm mind and steady hands were required for fine-tuning.

Actually, they were better suited for everything, including matters of the heart.

Falling in love with her had created a quandary he couldn’t solve.

He was in a hopeless tangle, and every time he touched her, he dug himself in deeper.

Sleeping with her wasn’t wise when his inevitable betrayal loomed on the horizon.

Walking away was impossible at this point. She still needed his protection.

At midday, he lifted his head from beneath the hood and tossed the socket wrench aside. He was making a mess of this repair to match the mess he’d made with Natalie. He wiped his hands on a shop rag and stepped out of the garage into the muted sunlight.

Last night, he’d rolled up his sleeping bag and grabbed his pack off the porch. For a brief moment, he’d considered leaving town. He had enough troubles. Starting a relationship with Natalie would only add to them.

Instead of fleeing the scene, Jason had hunkered down in the garage to sleep. Its cold depths had matched his foul mood. Bare branches scraped the roof like claws at his psyche while the critical comments she’d made echoed in his mind.

Upon reflection, Natalie’s concerns about his fitness as a partner weren’t unreasonable.

He wasn’t the best role model for her son, and he wasn’t stable.

What woman would want a broken wreck for a boyfriend?

She was a single mother with two jobs and too many responsibilities.

She deserved a steady guy. He wanted to be that for her.

He wanted to be everything she needed and more.

Jason glanced toward the upstairs apartment. His inability to sleep indoors was a serious problem for her and pretty damned inconvenient for him. He had to tackle the issue before he returned to duty.

He ascended the steps and went inside the remodeled space.

The floors were finished, walls freshly painted, and the fireplace was functional.

He could try to sleep here. Maybe near an open window, with the fire going.

If the nightmares came—and he knew they would—he could move outdoors again.

Gradual exposure was a strategy his therapist had recommended.

He’d failed at it spectacularly. He’d also stopped taking the sleep medication that had left him in a fog.

Instead, he’d embarked on this cross-country trip and dubbed it a “natural remedy.”

Was he better now, four months later? Or had he merely postponed his recovery by walking away from his problems?

Jason couldn’t say for sure. He felt stronger than he had at the beginning of his journey.

He didn’t regret the time he’d taken to heal his own way.

What he regretted, more and more each day, was hiding the truth about his involvement in Mike’s death.

The choices he’d made couldn’t be undone.

Massaging a dull ache in his temple, he left the apartment. He needed to make a trip to the hardware store to buy the security system Wade had recommended. If he could get the truck running, Natalie could sell it for cash.

An hour later, he’d located the source of his trouble under the hood.

He replaced hoses, connected wires, and climbed behind the wheel to test the engine.

It turned over with a roar, then quieted to a steady putter.

Jason gripped the steering wheel and leaned back against the shredded bench seat, triumph flooding him.

“You did it.”

He jumped at the sound of Natalie’s voice. She stood near the driver’s side door, her hair a fluffy disarray. He exited the truck, letting the engine run. “I’ll have to go for a test drive to see if it’s road-worthy.”

She nodded, crossing her arms over her chest.

“How’s Marcus?”

“Better. He’s still sleeping.”

“Did he throw up again?”

“Just once. Dry heaves.”

Jason studied her face, which showed the telltale signs of fatigue.

Her eyelids were puffy, her mouth soft and vulnerable.

She wore an oversized gray sweatshirt and sweatpants.

The garments had probably belonged to Mike once upon a time.

Her feet were encased in a pair of cozy sheepskin boots, her hair haloed by sunlight.

He wanted to wrap his arms around her, to stroke her back, and press his lips to her forehead.

Instead, he stood silent and waited for her to deliver the bad news.

She moistened her lips. “I’m sorry about last night.”

Jason was surprised by the apology and embarrassed that he hadn’t thought to do it first. He’d been braced for her to tell him to hit the road.

“I shouldn’t have gone there,” she said.

“You have the right to ask questions. I’m sorry I overreacted.”

Her steady gaze met his. “What you said was true.”

Jason’s mind flashed back to the previous evening. He remembered how she’d responded to his touch before Marcus interrupted. He also remembered the criticism she’d lobbed at him. His own words were harder to recall. “Which part?”

“I am afraid of getting hurt.”

Of course she was, for good reason. He would hurt her. He was too honest to give her reassurances to the contrary but not honest enough to warn her away. Torn between desire and deception, he stayed quiet.

“You’re very tight-lipped today.”

“I said too much last night.”

She didn’t disagree. “We’ll have to take a raincheck on the picnic.”

Jason felt some of his tension ebb away like a spool unraveling. She wasn’t asking him to leave. He still had a chance to smooth things over with her. The truck’s engine continued to chug in a steady rhythm, encouraging him further. The black cloud of exhaust he’d expected didn’t materialize.

He gestured toward the house. “I told Wade I’d get a security system installed. I think you need two cameras.”

She reached out to capture his hand. “What’s this?”

Heat crept up his neck as she examined the scraped knuckles. The evidence of his overexertion was undeniable.

“Were you fighting with Wade?”

“No,” he said in a disgruntled tone as if he hadn’t come within inches of punching that cocky bastard’s lights out. “It’s from tinkering with the engine.”

“You’re working too hard.”

“I’ll stop.”

She appeared skeptical. “Will you?”

He considered the puttering Ford. It was difficult to curb his urge to keep moving, completing one task after another.

More proof that he couldn’t settle down, from her perspective.

The frustration he’d felt last night reasserted itself.

“This is what I do,” he said haltingly, “when I have a hard time processing my feelings.”

She tilted her head to one side. “You’ve been in therapy?”

“Yes.”

“Not just physical therapy.”

He acknowledged this truth with a tight nod.

“Did it help?”

“What do you think?”

She gave him a measured look. “Are you better than you were before?”

“I was heavily medicated before. I prefer this.”

Her features softened with understanding.

Jason glanced away, feeling vulnerable. He didn’t want her sympathy. He wanted to give her pleasure, to assuage his sins, and make them both forget the past. “It’s almost noon. Are you hungry?”

“Sure,” she murmured.

“I’ll pick up some lunch.”

He drove her car to a nearby deli for sandwiches to go.

Jason figured the truck was reliable enough for short trips around town, and he’d like to take it for a spin, but he could wait.

When he entered the house, he found it still and quiet.

Natalie was curled up on the couch, fast asleep.

Marcus was snoring in his bedroom. Jason studied Natalie’s face for several moments, his heart in his throat.

He’d never been in love before. It wasn’t a gentle emotion, not soft or soothing like a mother’s touch. It was deep and powerful and unsettling.

Jason didn’t know if he could be the man she needed him to be, and that scared him.

He hated the thought of disappointing her.

She didn’t deserve any more hurt or pain.

There was another person to consider, as well.

Marcus would be affected by the outcome.

In his young life, he’d already lost too much.

Jason put the food in the fridge and exited the house silently.

For once, he wasn’t hungry. He locked the door behind him and examined the exterior of the house to plan for camera locations.

Then he retrieved his eyeglasses from his pack because he’d forgotten them earlier and borrowed her car again.

He found that he didn’t mind the cramped confines of the vehicle anymore.

With the windows down, it was quite pleasant.

Before the accident, he’d enjoyed driving.

He might not be able to ride hell-for-leather on horseback, but he could drive. He didn’t have to walk everywhere.

He filled up at the gas station on his way to the hardware store.

Inside, he purchased the door camera Wade had recommended, along with an electric screwdriver and a handful of other items. When he spotted a discount furniture store, he pulled over again.

After browsing the floor, he purchased a compact sofa and a twin XL mattress.