Page 5

W ell, this is going splendidly .

My tattooed hands come up to scrub across my face, brushing my hair out of my eyes. I watch the small, curvy woman leave the room and try to relax my shoulders.

She was even more beautiful in person, well…up close. I’d seen her several times without her knowing over the past year.

When the owner of LoveLorn Books had contacted me a year ago, gushing about how excited she’d be to work on a debut novel with a brand-new indie author, I’d been elated that my plan was set into motion.

I became even more obsessed with her.

I was entirely consumed by her. I’d fucking moved across the United States just to breathe the same air she did, to a closer degree. She didn’t walk home alone at night anymore. Not that she knew that . I was always watching from the shadows with my gun tucked into the waistband of my jeans, at my back.

Walking around her desk, breathing in her scent, I smiled at the little things that made Waverly who she was. I was finally in her space, with her permission this time. My fucking hands were shaking. I’d set all this in motion and everything was going so fucking perfectly.

I’d been trying to convince myself over the last year to tell her the truth. Knowing I was misleading her into thinking I was a woman, getting to know her, but I was unable to stop myself.

I’m going to hell .

As a retired agent for the government, I know how to find people and keep tabs on them. I should probably be using my powers for good, not evil, but I was in too deep. I peeked up at the corner of the room where the small camera sat in the vent of the bookstore. I had eyes on her everywhere . My little muse was well-protected. Never alone.

My fingers glided over her tote laying on her desk where she’d carelessly tossed it. I really needed to teach her to be more guarded and less trusting. This was the second time she’d left her bag unattended around me. Glancing at the doorway to make sure she wasn’t returning, I tilted my head listening.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I pulled up my surveillance app, clicking on the box where she was moving around the front of the store and smiled.

Taking the small tracker out of my other pocket, I placed it in a small pocket in her tote, obviously not used often. Tonight, I’d find out exactly which apartment was hers in that building she lived in.

She was mine. Waverly didn’t know it yet but from that first message she’d sent me in reply, she’d sealed her fate.

Glancing at the camera on my phone again, I watched her move around the store, turning on the lights and unlocking the front door. I didn’t like the fact she was here alone today. Anything could happen. Sara was off on some damn anniversary weekend trip, though I understood Waverly had to let her go on the trip with her husband. They were decent people, and I was glad Waverly had them, but she was going to have me now, too.

Thinking about my woman closing the store alone at nights and walking back to her apartment in the city, before I moved here, made my skin crawl. There still wasn’t even pepper spray or any other weapon for protection, in her tote bag. We were going to have to have a talk about these things.

I’d sent one of my friends, Liam, to her store under the guise of an inspection. He’d noticed a few faulty wires in her ceilings in different places and given her the card to a reputable electrician.

Sam the electrician, who is also a friend, had then arrived in a timely manner and placed cameras all over her store. Waverly was completely unaware and trusting to a fault. My friends thought I was insane, but still did as I had requested. We’d been through enough together that they knew we owed one another plenty of favors that we would complete, no questions asked.

Everything was working out and falling into place. I could almost do a giddy dance to myself, if I knew Sam and Liam didn’t have emergency access to these cameras and were probably watching our first official meeting. I’d definitely have to disconnect the cameras later. Nosy bastards.

I sat in her desk chair, just relishing in the fact that my body was pressed against a place where hers was daily. Her laptop was open, blinking at me with an incoming message.

Well, why not? It wasn’t like I hadn’t been getting them anyway.

Peering closer I saw it was from a different account than I’d ever seen. Brows furrowed in confusion, I read and reread the message again.

This wasn’t this slime bag's first message to my little muse.

Opening my phone I checked my program for monitoring her incoming e-mails and messages and found they’d been going to her spam folder. My head jerked up, eyeing the message again. Apparently, he was messaging her so frequently now, that they weren’t going through the spam folder. I hadn’t been checking there.

Rookie move .

This guy seemed to be even more obsessed with her than me, and not in a nice way. My entire body tensed reading through the message again, plotting my next move. Glancing at the doorway I tapped at Waverly’s keyboard quickly disposing of and hiding the message, my brain frantically thinking of a plan.

This wasn’t going to fuck up mine and my girl’s day. I’d handle this asshole later.

I heard footsteps coming down the hallway and shut the laptop down quickly, leaning back in the chair and appearing busy on my phone.

“G, are you ready?” Waverly’s voice crossed the room to me and I glanced up at her.

“Garrett.” I supplied. “You don’t have to call me G or Mr. Barlowe today,” I said, smiling warmly at her.

“Garrett,” she repeated softly, nodding.

Waverly Barlowe had a nice ring to it.

Standing up and placing my phone in my pocket I came around the desk towards her.

“I’m ready if you are, Waverly.”

Following Waverly out to the front of the shop, I watched her flit over to the store entrance and unlock the door for the surprising line that was waiting at the entrance.

Making my way behind the signing table, I took my seat while keeping my eye on my girl. She was too damn friendly. Okay, okay. I know that running a bookstore is a customer service job, but did she have to smile at every fucking person like they’d hung the moon? I only wanted her to look at me like that. What the hell?

I watched the first few women that entered giggle as they approached me and I turned on my own million-dollar-smile. I had an author’s image to uphold after all. I kept it comfortably distant though. I didn’t want my little muse to think that any of these people had a chance. She was it for me.

I watched her finish greeting the first round of the customers and then start flying around the room to make sure everyone was finding everything okay, checking that the snacks and drinks were still fully-stocked, and that I was okay.

After her fourth or fifth rotation by me I finally spoke again, “Sweetheart.”

Her eyes flew up to mine at the term of endearment, “Uh… yeah?”

“You don’t have to keep checking on me. You’ve got enough work cut out for you handling today alone. I’m a big boy and can take care of myself.”

I watched her pale skin flush and she nodded rapidly. I loved that she was so agreeable. It would make the surprise later so much sweeter.

I scowled then before greeting the next person in line, when I realized there were far too many men in this store. Yes, I knew that women could be an issue too. My girl could like both. Who knew? But the way she acted definitely spoke differently.

She gravitated towards the men without knowing the effect she was having on them. I watched one man ask for her help putting together something called a book bouquet for his anniversary.

Why did he think that entailed checking out the ass of the store owner?

I was going to kill someone.

“Uh…Mr. Barlowe?”

Shit. Right. I was here to sign books.

“Sorry, what would you like me to write?” I asked, smiling at the next person in line.