Page 18

SIMON

My blood goes from fire to ice in a split second.

Someone is out there. Watching Myra come. Taking what belongs to me.

And when I find them—and I will fucking find them—I’m going to kill them. I’ll show them the kind of man I used to be. Make them regret the day they put their eyes anywhere near her.

Keeping Myra close by my side—making sure to block her body with mine—I start to move. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you inside.”

I lead her away from the fence, following the most direct path to her front porch.

I scan the area around us as she unlocks the door and lets us inside.

Urging her across the threshold, I give the overgrowth one more look before following behind her.

After making sure the door is locked tight, I use the hand I have on her lower back to direct her toward the stairs. “Go get ready for bed.”

Up until now, I’ve done everything in my power to hide my somewhat bossy nature from her. But—like my tendency to make plans and my inability to do the things I should—it comes out on occasion whether I like it or not.

And this is one of those occasions.

But if Myra’s bothered, she doesn’t show it. Thank God, because I would feel like an asshole if she did, and right now I have more important things to worry about than if I’m reminding her of her ex.

Once she’s upstairs and out of sight, I head for the back door, pulling out my phone as I check the lock.

After dialing Christian’s number, I move to the windows, checking each one as the line rings in my ear.

It takes him forever to answer, and when he does, he sounds like he’s having a great fucking time at his midnight dinner.

Too bad, because I’m about to ruin everyone’s night.

“Someone was in the woods next to Myra’s house.” I finish inspecting the windows in the kitchen and family room area, and move onto the front portion of the house. “It was too dark to make out anything about them, but they were definitely watching us.”

I don’t elaborate. It’s no one’s business but mine and Myra’s what we were doing, and it doesn’t matter anyway. All that matters is someone—whose days are numbered—put their eyes where they don’t belong. I’m going to find out who, and I’m going to find out why.

Then I’m going to make sure they never look at anything again.

“Shit.” Christian relays what I just told him to Lydia, Tate, and Piper. Then he asks me, “Does Myra have any cameras on her house at all?”

I’m a little surprised he doesn’t know the answer to that. Surprised and annoyed.

“She doesn’t have shit here. Not even a security system.” I try to bite my tongue, but I’m too fucking pissed to come close to being successful. “And why in the hell is that? That should have been the first thing you did after she bought the place.”

“How was I supposed to do that? Barge in and take over?” Christian scoffs. “No fucking way. Myra’s just started to live her own life. I’m not going to be the one to take that from her.”

Is that what I’m doing? Taking Myra’s life from her?

I look at the renovations I’ve started. The refrigerator I stocked. Listen as the shower switches on after I told her to get ready for bed.

“Is she okay? Did she know they were there?” Christian’s rapid-fire questions drag my attention away from my own failings.

“She knew they were there. She seems rattled, but she’s not hurt.” I rake one hand through my hair. “What the fuck are we gonna do?”

“We can start by you talking her into putting in a security system. You’re the only one she seems to listen to.” Christian puts the burden squarely on me.

I know I should try to send that responsibility back at him—or more likely his wife—but I can’t make myself do it.

Imagine that.

“I’ll handle it.” I don’t want to push Myra. Genuinely. But I won’t let her get hurt. She might hate me for what I’m about to do, but there’s no fucking way I’m going to let her be in any sort of danger.

Which brings me to another issue.

“I don’t feel comfortable leaving her here alone tonight.” I’m not sure why I admit that to Christian. Maybe I need reassurance that I’m not the only one who feels this way. It will spread out the blame so it’s not only on my shoulders.

Proving he is just as protective as I am, Christian says, “Agreed. You should stay with her until we figure out what’s going on.”

I turn, resigned to the fact that I’m going to have to control a little more of Myra’s life. “I’ll get started on a security system first thing in the morning.”

“I’ll have everyone check their feeds to see if their cameras caught anyone lurking around,” Christian assures me, promising to check back in with me in the morning before ending our call.

I stand in the hall for I don’t know how fucking long, trying to tamp down my own desires and wants. Trying to get myself into a better frame of mind.

It’s not easy. Possibly more difficult than it’s ever been.

And I’m no closer to accomplishing it when soft footsteps come down the stairs. I clench my jaw, pulling in a deep breath as I attempt to steel myself against the sight I know is about to greet me.

Again, I fail.

Seeing Myra with her hair pulled up at the top of her head in a messy bun, a set of pale blue pajamas clinging to her frame, reignites the heat I’d hoped was successfully doused.

I shouldn’t have done what I did outside. It was yet another mistake in a long line, but I’m a big enough asshole that there’s no way in hell I’ll take it back. After hearing Myra admit no one had ever gotten her off, I knew I wouldn’t let anyone else claim the privilege of being first but me.

And, based on the desire coursing through me, I’m probably going to be second and third before the sun comes up.

Myra gives me a tentative smile, a hint of pink tinting her cheeks. She’s thinking about what happened between us outside. What I gave her. And it sends all the blood in my body running south.

“Hey.” She smooths back a loose bit of blonde hair, tucking it behind one ear. “Is everything okay?”

“I guess that depends on how you look at things.” She might have liked me getting her off, but I’m not so sure how Myra’s going to react to the news that I’ll be staying here with her tonight.

And possibly for the foreseeable future.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here alone tonight.

” I’ve already taken over so much of her life, so it would be great if I could get her to come to the same conclusion I’ve already come to.

“You don’t have a security system and your house butts right up against that tree line.

It wouldn’t be hard for someone to scale the fence, and they’d have plenty of privacy to break in. ”

Myra’s skin pales and the column of her throat works on a swallow. “Should I get a security system?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t help us now.” I wait, holding my breath. Hoping she gets where I need her to go.

Myra shifts on her feet, blue eyes darting around. “Should I go to a hotel or something?”

“You could, but you’re already in your pajamas.” I fight to keep my tone even instead of demanding. “Or I could stay here.”

Myra’s eyes lift to my face, dipping to my mouth before meeting my gaze again. “Okay.”

Her breathy agreement eases the tension that had been bunching my shoulders.

I roll them out, helping a little more dissipate.

“I need to go grab a change of clothes and my toothbrush.” I move toward the door, the need to get this done so I can be back quickening my steps.

“It’ll take me five minutes.” I flip the deadbolt and open the door, turning to face her.

“Lock this behind me. I’ll be right back. ”

I step out into the darkness, glaring up at the spot where a porch light should be.

There’s an old fixture mounted to the wall, but the bulb inside it is long dead.

Myra closes the door behind me, and as I wait for her to lock it, I add outdoor lighting to the list of tasks I’m going to tackle tomorrow.

Once I hear the deadbolt click into place, I hurry down the stairs, listening for any sign I’m not alone out here as I scan the block for movement.

Everything is quiet enough I feel comfortable continuing on, but I pick up the pace, rushing to my camper where I grab a few items of clothing, my toothbrush, and a charger for my phone.

After locking up, I jog back to Myra’s house.

Giving the door a sharp rap with my knuckles, I let her know it’s me.

Myra opens the door, stepping back to let me inside, and I suck in a deep breath, trying to calm my excitement at the opportunity to be so close to her.

This isn’t a good thing—I know it’s not—but the part of me that’s so fucking lonely it aches didn’t get that memo.

Knowing she’ll be close, even if it’s just in the next room, is already soothing the part of me still hurting from an old loss.

Pulling in another breath, hoping to calm the warring emotions inside me, I pause. The scent of Myra’s body wash tints the air, but it’s not the only thing that tickles my nose as I breathe in. My eyes move down the hall toward the kitchen. “Are you cooking?”

Myra presses her lips together, lifting one shoulder in a half-assed shrug. “I guess I was a little hungry after all.”

I go still, taking apart the evening’s events. I want to think she asked me to take her home for a reason other than being tired. That she preferred my company over everyone else’s.

That maybe she was hoping for what happened against that truck.

I know it’s just the part of me that has already decided she’s mine conjuring up what it wants to see, but still.

Anything’s possible.

“I thought maybe you’d be hungry too.” Myra pinches her lower lip between her teeth. “It probably burns a lot of energy playing the drums all night.”

I’m torn. Desperate to let myself believe all the things I want are within my grasp, but self-aware enough to know I’m probably reaching. “You don’t have to cook for me, Myra.”

The hint of a smile on her mouth lifts. “I know.” She points to the items in my arms. “You can put all that upstairs. Our food should be ready soon.” Then she pushes up on her toes and presses a kiss to my lips.

I don’t even kiss her back because I’m stunned by the casual way she does it. Like it’s a normal thing we do all the time.

I’m still staring in shock when she disappears around the corner, leaving me standing alone in the entryway as she goes into the kitchen.

To finish cooking. For me. Because I burned a lot of energy playing drums.

Again, it would be easy for me to read into this. To think it’s more than it is. The kiss. The food. Her immediate agreement to have me stay with her.

But I have a habit of looking down a tunnel of my own creation. Of thinking I can make whatever I want happen.

And the last time I did that, it took me years to get over.

Turning away from the temptation of everything I want, I march up the steps, going in search of Myra’s guest room.

I reach the landing and pace down the hall, peering into one empty room after another.

Myra’s home used to be an office building, and the drywall partitioning most of the second floor into rooms is still intact, but none of them look particularly good.

There are holes knocked in the walls, wires dangling from the ceiling, missing outlets, and busted baseboards.

It makes me wish I had more than a month to give her.

Maybe I could find someone to take my place for the job in Louisia?—

I reach the last doorway and skid to a stop on the subfloor, realization dawning.

Myra doesn’t have a guest room.

I slowly back up the way I came, looking over each room to confirm the room at the end of the hall is the only one even close to being habitable.

It’s still not completely finished—there’s no flooring over the subfloor—but the bedroom where Myra sleeps and the bathroom attached to it are clean and painted a pretty teal.

The queen-size bed is covered in a dark, almost black, comforter and piled with pillows.

A set of nightstands sits at either side, each with a lamp and stack of romance novels piled on the surface.

A slow smile works its way onto my lips.

I might not have known I was agreeing to share a bed with her, but Myra definitely did. I can explain away a lot of her actions. Tell myself she’s not thinking the same way I am. But this is blatant. A clear sign Myra doesn’t need space as much as I’ve been thinking she did.

Because that queen-size bed won’t leave much space between us.

Striding into the bedroom we’ll be sharing tonight—longer if I can make it happen—I set my clothes on the smooth surface of her dresser—right next to another stack of second hand romance novels—before carrying my toiletries into the bathroom.

After lining my items up alongside hers, I take a minute to enjoy the sight.

Seeing even this tiny bit of my life and hers co-mingling satisfies me on a visceral level.

Not because I’ve been aching for someone at my side—though I have—but because it’s Myra inching into the spot.

Ever since I carried her out of the woods the night she escaped her ex-husband, I’ve struggled to keep my thoughts away from her. Sometimes more successfully than others. I went to great lengths—literally—to keep my distance from her.

But after being back in town for only a handful of days, I’ve already managed to feel her lips under mine and the quake of her body as she came against my dick.

And neither one happened because I was the one pushing.

Now I’ll be sleeping beside her. Showering where she stands naked every day. Making sure she’s safe and fed and happy.

In every fucking way she’ll let me.

Flipping off the bathroom light, I cross the bedroom, eyes lingering on the spot I’ll soon be lying next to Myra as I make my way out the door.

When I reach the kitchen, I find her plating up two toasted subs layered with the deli meat I bought so she’d have food to pack for lunch when she works. It doesn’t seem like she’s dipped into it until now, making me suspicious she doesn’t eat when she’s at work.

Another thing I’ll be able to rectify if I’m staying here.

Myra slides a plate my way before picking up her sandwich and taking a huge bite, eyes rolling closed as she chews. “I was starving.”

I try to keep the smile off my face, but fail. “I thought you didn’t go with your sister because you weren’t hungry.”

Myra’s blue eyes open, sliding down my body as her cheeks pink up again. A hint of a smile curves her lips as her gaze comes back to meet mine. “I must have worked up an appetite outside.”