Page 14 of Her Protector on Route 14 (Love Along Route 14 #6)

In the morning, I wake to find Holly curled tightly against me, her soft breath brushing against my neck. I rub her hip and press a kiss to her shoulder. She hums, sleepy and content, then shifts her hips back into me with the kind of trust that makes my chest ache.

Carefully, I untangle myself to start my usual morning routine—but then I pause, remembering the way she reacted the last time I left her alone in bed.

She’s already moved into my spot, seeking out my warmth in her sleep. That small gesture does something to me. I smile without meaning to—then catch myself.

Liking someone shouldn’t feel this dangerous. But it does. I’ve been telling myself that from the beginning. That I need to keep a distance. That the age gap matters. That getting too close could only end in regret.

But the truth is undeniable—I want her.

Not just in the way I usually want someone. I want to protect her, yes, but I also want to hear every story she hasn’t told yet. I want to be the reason she smiles, the one she leans on. I want to watch her grow into the woman she’s meant to be and stand beside her through all of it.

And that’s the part that terrifies me.

Because these feelings—they’re consuming. So intense I don’t know how to untangle them. They make me feel exposed in a way I haven’t felt in years.

Part of me wants to run. To cut it off now before it gets harder. Before she finds someone closer to her age. Before she realizes I was her first and starts to wonder if that’s the only reason she wanted me.

But I meant what I said to her yesterday—this is moving fast. And maybe my heart knows something I haven’t caught up to yet.

Because from the second I met her, I’ve felt unsteady. Unraveled. And strangely, it doesn’t feel so unpleasant anymore.

Because I’m not just lusting after her. This isn’t infatuation. It’s something deeper. Something real.

Holly groans and opens her eyes, then looks around before spotting me. She reaches out to me and, like the hopeless man I am, I walk to her. I kiss her hand and sit on the edge of the bed. She hums softly and sits up, her hip next to mine even though she’s facing the other way.

She rests her head on my shoulder and sighs. “You’re still here.”

“I am,” I answer. “You confessed how you were feeling yesterday.”

“It was embarrassing. I was worried about nothing, obviously,” she snorts before kissing my shoulder.

“It took courage and I’m proud of you. So I’m going to admit something,” I say slowly.

Holly’s brow furrows. I don’t see her jumping to any conclusions, just her curious gaze focused on me. I clear my throat. “I’m not used to ... wanting someone the way I want you. It’s uncomfortable.”

“Am I asking for too much?”

“No, darling.” I shake my head. “You’re not. Not even close.”

I move closer, needing her to hear every word. “I want to be with you. I want to know you. I want to be the reason you smile. I want to make sure you’re safe. I want your joy, your energy, your laugh—because without them, I don’t feel this light.”

I pause, my chest tightening with the weight of truth.

“And that’s terrifying. Because I’ve spent so many years alone, convinced I didn’t need anyone. And now... I need you in a way I never saw coming.”

Her eyes soften and she kisses my throat. I clear my throat and rub her thigh. “I’m terrified because you’re younger and you might decide you want someone else when I’ve never felt like this.”

“You’re cute,” she whispers. “Shockingly, I don’t sleep with every guy who saves me on the side of the road. I definitely don’t trust every man to go on a road trip with me. I like you an odd amount for how long we’ve known each other. I’m not going to run off or looking for someone else.”

I kiss her temple. “As long as you know you’re more than enough, more than I deserve, and in all of the best ways.”

She shakes her head slightly, but gets herself ready for the last part of our journey. We’ll be in Oakrest Bay tonight as long as we don’t hit traffic. It’s the fastest leg of the trip and I hate that it doesn’t guarantee more time with her.

Even when I point out extra stops, suggest photo ops, keep her talking, and share a few stories from my time in the military, the miles keep slipping by. I try to stretch the hours, to make time bend, but the destination keeps creeping closer.

“Ten miles,” I say quietly.

Holly nods, but there’s no smile this time. No light tease.

I reach over, take her hand, and kiss her knuckles. “Still plenty of ocean views ahead. Lookouts. New places to explore. Photos to take.”

She nods again, squeezing my hand, but says nothing about the end of the road. Neither do I.

Instead, she pulls us back into the now. She gets me laughing again about the cowboy hat she made me wear, bringing it up like it’s the story of the day. She teases until I’m smiling again, until we’re both laughing—because laughter is easier than admitting what we’re both thinking.

We don’t want this to end. Not the road. Not the trip. Not us .

I roll down the windows and welcome the ocean breeze until we stop in Oakrest Bay in a parking lot close to a marina. We get out and I stretch, feeling the threat of a cramp in my thigh. I turn to see Holly staring at the water with a faraway look in her eyes.

She doesn’t reach for her camera, just stares.

“Darling?” I ask.

She clears her throat. “Yeah…”

“What’s wrong?” I push.

“I don’t know, I expected to feel more ... accomplished.”

“Is it because I did the driving?” I tease.

She shakes her head slowly and looks at me while she rubs her chest. I stand with her at the hood of the car, looking at the pre-sunset light dancing across the blue water and teasing the silhouettes of docked sailboats.

This was our guaranteed time together. Now we’re standing on the edge of a choice, one neither of us can make alone. I don’t want to be done with Holly. I don’t want to reach out to a ranger and get a ride home.

As wild and unpredicted as it is, I love Holly. It took less than two weeks for me to realize that. I’ve gone this long in my life without ever feeling a spark of love and now it’s bulldozed me.

Holly glances at me, then looks away, and I know she’s holding something back. So I decide to take the lead—at least that gives me some control over how this plays out.

“I don’t want this to be the last time I see you, Holly,” I say, voice steady. “I’m not ready for this to be over.”

She turns to me fully, blinking a few times like she’s trying to make sure she heard me right. “What do you mean? Just... be clear.”

I nod, no hesitation. “I want to stay in your life. I want more time. I want you. Not just a maybe if you head back to Florida. Not just a memory. I don’t want to cross my fingers and hope—I want to know I’m still part of your world when this trip ends.”

Her smile blooms slowly, and then she throws her arms around me, holding me tight. “I’m so glad you didn’t make me say it first.” She leans in, stands on her toes, and kisses me—soft, certain. “I don’t want this to end either.”

“We’ll figure it out,” I murmur against her lips. “No pressure, no big decisions today. Just one day at a time.”

She pulls back, beaming, and lifts her camera, aiming it at the two of us. “One day, one week, one month... as long as I still get to see you, that’s all that matters.”