Page 16 of Protected By the Bikers Next Door
As much as I like and trust the guys, it’s too much to expect them to entertain my daughter constantly, and I’m not about to let anyone I’ve just met spend time alone with her. Bear, perhaps sensing this, offers a solution that leaves everyone happy.
“How about your mom and I read to you together?” he says, glancing at me for my approval, and I mouth a silent thanks at him.
Jenny is thrilled by the prospect, and mercifully, only halfway through the story, she falls asleep. Bear and I sneak out of the room, careful not to wake her.
“Thank you for being so good with her,” I whisper.
“Not at all. It’s my pleasure. I always wanted kids. I just never met the right woman.”
“You’re not exactly over the hill yet. You could still have children,” I point out.
“Here’s hoping,” he replies with a small smile.
We stand there for a moment, not moving. Bear seems in no rush to go back downstairs to join the others, and I’m curious to know more about this gentle giant. “What made you decide to become an Army medic? It seems to me that being a soldier, whose job it is to shoot and even kill people, and also a medic who cares for the sick and wounded, are somewhat conflicting,” I ask, wondering how he can do both.
He contemplates my question for a moment, scratching his beard. “You’re right, but the two aren’t mutually exclusive either. After all, many people need medical assistance in battle. While I was in the military, I found I was good at staying calm and helping injured people, so I became a medic. I joined the Army first when I was eighteen, mostly because I had nothing else to do. I had no real career prospects. I grew up in a small town with a single mom who worked two jobs to keep food on the table. Most of the people there never left. I didn’t want that to be me.”
I nod, understanding. “Are you and your mom close?”
“We were. But she got sick a while back with dementia. Most of the time, she doesn’t know who I am now. She’s well cared for in a home. I don’t visit her as much as I should,” he admits guiltily, his brown eyes sad.
“I’m sorry,” I say, taking his hand and squeezing it. “I know how hard it is to lose a parent. My parents were killed in a car crash when I was eighteen, leaving me and my big sister alone until she died only a year later of ovarian cancer,” I tell him, surprised that I did.
I don’t talk about them to anyone. If asked about my parents, I usually tell people I’m an only child and my parents live out of state. It’s easier to lie than face people’s pity.
“I’m sorry, Harper, that must have been tough.”
I shrug, keen to change the subject to less dangerous territory lest I reveal too much of myself to this kind, caring man. “It was a long time ago. Now it’s just me and Jenny. We’re happy being alone.”
“You’re not alone,” he says softly, his deep brown eyes searching mine.
I think about how easy it could be to fall for this man. How nice it would be to step into his embrace right now and let him take care of me. But then I remember why that can never happen, and I step away, breaking the spell between us.
“I think I’m going to go to bed; it’s been a long day,” I say, though I know I won’t sleep.
Bear nods. “Goodnight, Harper. Just shout if you need anything, I’ll be here.”
Later, I’m lying in bed next to Jenny, listening to the gentle sound of her breath, unable to sleep. I get up to use the bathroom, pausing at the door when I hear the guys talking, their voices low and serious. I realize that they’re discussing me and Jenny and how they plan to protect us going forward.
“Nobody touches them. Nobody.”
I feel a rush of warmth as I realize that they genuinely care. It’s a thought that both terrifies and thrills me in equal measure. Getting involved with a motorcycle club on paper sounds like a reckless and dangerous decision, but right now, they’re the ones making me feel safe. I trust them. I trust that they’ll protect us even if I can’t open up to them fully. If I’m not the person they think I am.
Chapter 8
Wolf
One Week Later
I’m going insane. I can’t get Harper out of my head. She fills my senses. Even when I’m at home, I swear I can still smell the lingering scent of her perfume. At her house, it’s even worse; her presence envelops me. Every smile she gives me, every touch, the sounds of her breathy moans that I can hear through the door as she sleeps are driving me crazy. I want her so badly, but I also know that she’s not ready. It would be wrong of me to take advantage when she’s vulnerable and scared. I’m here to protect her and Jenny.
It’s been a week since Harper stayed the night at ours. Since then, we’ve been taking it in shifts to sleep over on the couch at hers. Tonight is my turn, and as always, I can’t sleep. I sit on the armchair nursing a glass of whiskey, staring out the window into the vacant, moonlit street, eyes peeled for a glimpse of the stalker. There’s been no sign of him. Harper is hopeful that means he’s gone, but I know sickos like him don’t just give up. He’s out there, watching me, waiting.
The sound of the stairs creaking sends me into high alert, and I spring up from my seat, gun drawn. At the bottom of the stairs, I encounter a startled-looking Harper who holds her hands up in surrender.
“It’s only me,” she whispers, fear radiating from her as her gaze is fixed on the gun in my hands.
I lower my gun, looking up the stairs behind her for signs of an intruder. “Is everything okay?”
