Page 4 of Daddy’s Protection (The Daddy Guard #3)

Isaiah brought his pickup to a stop in front of the curb and stepped out to examine the house before him.

“It is creepy. I’ll give her that,” he mumbled under his breath.

The rest of the Guard had stayed home, as they didn’t feel this was an all-hands-on-deck situation. They took the call seriously when the young woman—Cami Foster—had dialed them. But there was more than likely a logical explanation for all this.

Ghosts weren’t real, after all, Isaiah thought as he walked toward the gate.

The woman inside the house wasn’t in any real danger.

This was all probably just the product of an overactive imagination.

He’d been around enough Littles to know how they could be.

That was part of their charm. He wouldn’t have them any other way.

That didn’t mean she was really in need of his protection, though. But she was scared. That alone broke his heart.

So he’d help her.

The gate squeaked loudly as he swung it in. If ghosts were real, this was the type of house they would definitely haunt.

It wasn’t a mansion, but it was plenty big. And historic. He didn’t know what year it was built, but he suspected it was even older than the mansion that served as the Guard’s headquarters. And that place had been constructed well over a century ago.

He was only halfway up the steep stairs when the front door flew open and a woman rushed out. “Thank you for coming! Quick! Inside!”

He looked up to see the prettiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on standing there.

For a moment, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Was it her? The Little girl he’d been searching for?

His heart rate quickened. Words escaped him as his brain swirled. This cutie had some sort of powerful hold on him. Almost like an enchanting magic.

What the hell was happening?

“Please!” she cried.

Isaiah snapped out of the trance and picked up the pace, jogging the rest of the way. Thanks to the peak shape he stayed in, hurrying up the stairs and onto the porch wasn’t any problem.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” he asked.

“I’m… fine. Just come quick!”

She held the door open as he went passed her and stepped inside.

He took a moment to look around.

“This place is nice,” he noted. “I like your entry table. Is it a period piece?”

“Yeah,” she said after closing the door and locking it. “I inherited it along with this house.” Her words were still coming out rushed. Despite answering his question, it seemed as if she was on autopilot.

Poor thing. She seemed even more terrified than he’d thought after getting her call earlier.

“Cool,” he replied, keeping his voice low and calm. Maybe his chill vibes would rub off on her. As it was, he was afraid she’d faint. Because upon further inspection, she was stark white. A bead of sweat lined her brow.

He opened his mouth to ask if she was okay, but stopped short.

Now that he had taken a better look at her, he was even more stunned by her beauty. Even when terrified, she was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen.

She was curvy, with smooth skin, full lips, and big brown eyes. Her dark hair fell past her shoulders. The pajama pants she wore hugged her curves nicely. The thin little shirt barely contained her ample breasts.

Damn. She’s all kinds of beautiful, Isaiah thought. He didn’t want to gawk, though. No reason to make her feel uncomfortable. She’d just allowed a strange man into her home in the dead of night, after all.

But it was hard to tear his eyes away from her.

Lots of Daddy feelings swirled in his core. She was like the cutie he’d often dreamed of one day finding.

A lot like her, actually.

Quite literally the woman of his dreams.

All that could wait. Right now, he just needed to know she was okay.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Now that you’re here. I… hated being here by myself.”

Her color was returning and her breathing seemed to stabilize.

“I’m Isaiah Colton,” he said as he extended his hand.

She shook it quickly, barely gripping it. But it was enough for him to realize her palm was sweaty. “I’m Cami Foster.”

He hated how scared she was. But she no longer seemed to be on the verge of a full-blown anxiety attack.

“It’s great meeting you, Cami. You’re not alone now. I’m here. You’re safe. We’ll get through this.” He smiled.

It took a moment, but Cami eventually smiled, too.

“Thank you, sir,” she said.

“No need to call me sir.”

She looked adorable as she blushed. “Sorry. It’s just… you’re a Daddy. I’m a Little.” Her cheeks glowed red as she clearly grew embarrassed. “I mean, I assume you’re a Daddy. You’re in the Daddy Guard.”

Isaiah chuckled. “Yes, Cami. I’m a Daddy. And if you feel better calling me sir, then… well, you just call me whatever you want. Now, is it okay if we sit in there and talk about what happened?” He jerked his head toward the parlor just beyond the cased opening.

“Not in there!” she yelled. She drew a deep breath, exhaled, and continued.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so loud. It’s just…

well, that’s where the ghosts were. How about we go in this room?

” She led the way toward the cased opening to her left.

“The house has two parlors. I do more in this one, anyway.” She led the way.

Inside, he found a room that indeed looked more “lived in” than what he’d briefly seen through the opening of the other one.

A television hung over the fireplace. The couch had a cozy blanket on it. The end table had a Kindle and remote control.

“This is really too much house for me,” she explained as she sat on the couch. “But it’s free, so I live here. Please, have a seat.”

Isaiah eased himself into a chair that was close to the couch. “Thanks. It’s nice. What year was it built?”

“I think 1890,” she said. “Maybe 1891.”

“Wow. That’s even older than the Guard’s mansion.”

Cami seemed to perk up a little. “Iris and Lana told me an old actress used to live there!”

“Yep. An old actor, too. A comedian. Fatty Arbuckle. I read up on him. He had an interesting career that sort of ended in tragedy and scandal. But right now, I want to hear about what’s going on with you, honey.”

He hoped he hadn’t overstepped, calling her that.

Apparently, she wasn’t ready to move on, though. “Fatty? That’s not a very nice name.”

“Agreed,” Isaiah said. “I guess it was a different time. Though I still don’t approve of it. That’s what he went by, though. It was his stage name. First name was Roscoe, if I’m remembering correctly.”

She seemed to be reflecting on it for a moment. “I guess I’m sensitive to that. Since I’m fat and all.”

“Whoa there, little lady. Don’t talk like that.” He paused before saying, “I’m sorry. Daddy instinct. I had no right to give you an order.”

But the slight smile on her face indicated she didn’t mind.

“Yes, sir. It’s just that… I’ve been made fun of before for being… plus size.”

“You’re just the right size,” he said. “As long as you’re healthy and happy. And I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

The Little shook her head. “It’s not your fault. I, uh, should probably tell you what’s going on here, though. You didn’t come over here in the middle of the night to give me a therapy session or hear about my body issues.”

Isaiah most definitely wanted to hear all about her and talk about whatever she needed to get off her chest. That could wait, though.

“No worries,” he told her. “Take your time.”

He made himself comfortable and waited. A moment later, he was listening to her recall the mysterious events that had transpired earlier in the evening.

Isaiah never put much stock in the supernatural.

Nothing he heard now changed that, either.

But he was certain of one thing: Cami truly believed she’d seen those ghosts.

Years on the LAPD had honed his BS detector. He prided himself on being able to spot dishonesty. The Little before him was telling the truth. At least, she believed she was.

“That sounds very scary. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

She sat up straighter. “You believe me? I thought you’d think I was crazy.”

Offering her a reassuring smile, he said, “You experienced something terrifying. Now it’s up to me and the Daddy Guard to figure out exactly what it was and ensure it doesn’t happen again. We’ll protect you.”

This seemed to calm her a bit, but he could still feel the energy pulsating off her.

Cami was amped up.

He supposed he would be, too, if he thought he saw a ghostly dancing couple and a lady that turned into a ghastly skeleton.

Flashing her a smile, he continued. “But if the threat is supernatural, you’d need a priest. Not the Guard. I can introduce you to mine. Though he’s an Episcopalian. I think ghosts respond better to the Catholic ones. At least in the movies.”

Cami laughed, a sound that was music to Isaiah’s ears.

“I think I need the Guard right now.”

He nodded. “I’m here. And me and the Guard are going to help you.”

“Thank you.” Silence fell over them for a few heavy moments before she spoke again. “I don’t know how I’ll sleep. I have work tomorrow…” She was clearly talking more to himself than she was to him.

“You’ll sleep at our mansion,” Isaiah stated.

He realized he should ask her if she wanted to, but those Daddy instincts were still raging, and he just wanted to make sure she got the rest she needed.

But he didn’t want to scare her, too. She’d had enough of that. So, he added, “If you want to.”

“Yes, Sir. And thank you.” She twisted her hands while she thought for a moment. “I’ll have to come back here eventually.”

We’ll see about that, Isaiah thought with a faint smile.

You might just live with me forever, cutie.

“Just focus on tonight,” he told her. “And we can worry about everything else later. I’ll have questions and the Guard will investigate. But right now, you need some sleep.” He stood. “You ready?”

“Yes, Sir. Let me grab my stuff,” she said.

“Do you need me to go with you?”

Cami shook her head. “I think I’m good.”

“I’ll wait right here then.”

He stood while she hurried up the stairs.

“Don’t run, honey. You might fall,” he called when she was halfway up.

Again, he hoped he wasn’t pushing things.

“Yes, Sir.” She slowed down considerably.

You need to rein that in, Isaiah. Don’t Daddy this girl too hard. She’s not your Little.

Not yet, at least.

While he waited, he walked into the other parlor. It was cold in there.

“She might need new windows,” he said aloud, walking to the front one and inspecting it.

Surely it wasn’t original, he thought, as old as the house was. But the window had been there a while. Could be the cause of the draft. Holding his hand out to it, he felt for a minute.

No air.

“Hmm.”

He turned around and scanned the ceiling to see if he could find an air vent. There was one. But the A/C didn’t seem to be running. Not that he could hear, at least.

But it sure was cold.

At the moment, though, he had a bigger problem to worry about.

It felt as if he was being watched. Was it just his imagination? He might not believe in ghosts, but after hearing the story Cami had told, well… maybe even a tough veteran cop could get a little spooked.

More than scared though, he felt on edge. Like he needed to fight.

Was someone in the house? Were they stalking Cami?

That thought made his blood boil. Heaven help anyone that mess with that sweet girl.

He took a few moments to look around, but couldn’t find anyone in the parlor or the attached dining room.

Once he was back in the parlor, he braced himself as he caught movement in the corner of his eye. But it was just Cami coming back.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. I was just?—”

His brain registered movement again, but only this time it was from behind him, in the dining room where he’d just come.

Spinning around, Isaiah charged in there but only found the large, antique-looking table and a hutch stacked with China.

On the same wall was another doorway that led into the kitchen. “Every room down here connected?” he called back.

“Yeah.” She was close, behind him now, clearly scared too, and probably wanting to be right with him just in case.

The kitchen was empty besides the appliances.

He walked the length of it, went to a different doorway, and stepped down into another room. He realized that was the parlor they’d been sitting in moments earlier.

There didn’t seem to be anyone else around.

But he could have sworn someone had darted from the shadows of the dining room. Perhaps they’d been under the large dining table. They weren’t anywhere to be seen now, though.

He walked back into the kitchen and to the back door. The deadbolt was locked. No one could have rushed out it and bolted it from the outside. Unless they had a key. But he would have heard them opening and closing it, as well as taking the time to lock it.

It was obvious no one had gone out that way.

“Is someone in my house, Mr. Colton?” Cami’s frantic voice asked.

He faced her and smiled. “No. I think it was just my imagination. Thought I caught movement.”

She nodded. “This old house can do that to you. Make your imagination run wild.”

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you back to my place. You need to sleep.”

He took her by the arm and gently escorted her toward the front door. After grabbing the bag she’d packed, he stepped out on the porch, shut the door behind him, and waited while she locked it.

Damn, he thought. This house is creepy.

And he was sure glad to be leaving it for the night.