Nicole Hartmann

“It’s…well, it’s definitely lighter.” Gemma Harris combed her fingers through her newly styled blonde hair. What had started as ‘some highlights’ had turned down a scary path of ditzy blonde. She twisted this way and that in the chair, trying to get a view that didn’t make her think of Legally Blonde and Clueless. “Gemma, I am so sorry! I honestly don’t know what happened.” Carissa, her stylist for the past three years, looked like she was about to cry. “It must’ve been that new girl. I had her mix up the color but I swear I said F103!” Inside Gemma wanted to die a little bit inside, but it really wasn’t that big of deal. It’s just hair. Right? Her long auburn tresses were now faded into a golden color that reminded her of the beach and college. “Riss, it’s fine.” She assured the distraught hair stylist. “Seriously. I always wanted to try something new.” She grabbed her Coach bag off the chair, gave a sassy flip of her hair, and put the cash on the counter. Gemma said her goodbyes and left feeling slightly worse than when she came in. Get over it, Girl. You have bigger problems, she reminded herself. As she climbed into her Lexus hybrid, she tried to figure out how she got into this mess. She was a clothing designer – not exactly a high-risk occupation. She was startled out of her reverie by the shrill ring that indicated a phone call. Clicking the phone button on her dash, she answered. “Gem, it’s Lucas.” Gemma inwardly groaned. Her overprotective brother. Perfect timing, as always. “Did you call him yet?” She sighed. “No, Lucas. I haven’t called your creepy soldier friend yet.” “What?! Why not? I gave you his number on Tuesday!” He said it like it had been weeks. “Because I don’t need some ex-Marine following my every move. It was just a few letters.” Or five. But who was counting? The letters had started coming a couple weeks ago but were increasing in frequency. They were never signed but she knew who it was. She had started designing for a soon-to-be-bride a few months ago. Wedding dresses were generally her most lucrative, but the most needy. She took those kinds of jobs sparingly. This bride had seemed different though – easy going, flexible budget, and her groom was present even at the initial consult, which was rare. His name was Garrett, and she could certainly see why his fiancé thought him a catch. He was 6 feet of toned bronze god. He was a police officer for the neighboring district and was volunteer firefighter on the side. After their first couple meetings to discuss design, price, and colors, she started getting a weird feeling from Garrett. Sometimes it was just a touch on her knee or arm, but other times he would call her just to repeat what they’d already gone over, or to ‘swing by’ because he was in the area. One night a couple weeks ago he had texted her that he was coming by the pick up the samples his fiancé had requested. She had responded, letting him know that she wouldn’t be home for a few hours but that the samples were in her home office. Gemma had always lived in a small town and was used to the freedom and privacy they offered. In her current residence of Brookstone, North Virginia, she hadn’t found any reason not to trust her neighbors. While her front door was always locked, her side entrance was left open. She had mentioned this to Garrett a while back. Except that when she got home that night, she noticed that a couple of her drawers were partially opened and some of the bottles on her master countertop had been moved. One of her bottles of perfume was missing. Not able to call the police and tell them she suspected one of their own, she opted to wait it out. Then the letters started coming. Mostly just in secret-admirer style, they weren’t too alarming. The one that she had gotten this morning though had a different tone. She shivered, recalling the threats about being the only one for her and being together forever. Her brothers voice garbled in the background overtop of her thoughts. “Gem? Gemma?” “Yeah, I heard you. I’ll call him today okay? Just to see what he thinks.” Maybe having a Marine around wouldn’t be such a bad thing. “Good. I’ll let him know to expect your call. I already told him it was for my sister. And Gem…?” She responded suspiciously, “What?” “He’s not a Marine. He was a Navy SEAL.” She fought hard not to roll her eyes, and he added a reminder to ‘be nice’. “Yup, okay. Got it. Bye Lucas.” She clicked a button and her car was blissfully quiet once again. Quiet enough that she could actually think about whether or not she would call this guy. It would be nice to have a little peace and quiet. Besides, he wouldn’t really be living with her. He’d be staying in the guest bedroom, and her office was practically a whole suite by itself – complete with full bathroom and wet bar – so she really didn’t have to be in his space and him in hers. Was she actually considering this? After almost a week of ignoring Lucas and trying to convince herself that it wasn’t really that serious and it was just one super creepy guy, she couldn’t ignore the feeling in the back of mind that Garrett could be dangerous if provoked. So far, yes, it was just letters. But what if he turned into one of those psycho’s who send dead cats and move into the house next door? No thank you. She pulled up the dialing feature and started to dial the number that will still on the sticky note Lucas had stuck to her dash on Tuesday. Pulling over, she waited for him to answer. Reed Thomas pulled out his phone, checking out the unknown number flashing across the screen. Mentally flipping through everyone it could be, he narrowed it down to one of two potential clients. Either it was his mother’s gardener who thought that aliens were after her, or it was the sister of his good friend and dentist. Lucas was always going on about his sister and trying to set them up, but recently he had mentioned a serious of threatening letters. He waited another two rings and then answered. “Thomas Protection. Reed speaking.” “Reed, this is Gemma Harris – Lucas Harris’ sister. I could use your help…” “What can I help you with, Ms. Harris?” Reed tried to mask his impatience. He reminded himself that he could always use another client, especially if this was to be a personal favor for a friend as well. She didn’t speak for a few moments and he wondered at the hesitation. From the way that Lucas had spoken about the situation, he had gotten the impression that some crazy stalker had decided Gemma was the one for him. It wasn’t exactly a leap to figure out why she was calling a protection agency. “It’s kind of a funny story really…” She started, clearly stalling. He grabbed the stray pad of paper and pen sitting on his counter and jotted down ‘Gemma’. Big question marks were the other thing he could write after that. “Just start from the beginning, ma’am,” he suggested. Gemma delved into the story, from start to finish. When the low battery light flashed across the screen she realized that she’d been talking a good ten minutes without a peep from her brother’s mysterious friend. She paused and waited for his answer. Mysterious friend or not, he was really the only choice she had. She wasn’t even a hundred percent convinced that Garrett was stalking her, or at least had any intentions of doing her harm. Sure, it was creepy. But did that really warrant hiring a bodyguard? Maybe she was overreacting. She almost told the guy ‘see ya’, but then thought back to the feeling of knowing somewhat had been in her house when she wasn’t there. At that exact moment, she heard the deep voice on the other line respond, “When do you want me to start?” Breathing out an exhale of pure relief, she gave him the directions and told him to meet her there in twenty minutes. Why wait? She knew now what she was going to do, and she was not the type to sit on her duff waiting for it to happen. She made it back to her house in record time and unlocked her front door. She kicked off her shoes, grabbed her laptop out of her bag and started to read through her emails for the day. When her neck got a crick, she glanced at her watch. Odd that he was five minutes late. For a protective agency, he sure wasn’t big on promptness! She got up, stretched, and turned to head into the kitchen. And very nearly had a heart attack. “First rule, never leave your door unlocked.” The now-familiar deep voice coming from a comfortable seat at her kitchen island was enough to get her heart beating faster – and not just from surprise. “What the hell are you doing?” She tried to keep her voice stern and affronted, but it still had a breathy quality to it. Unfortunately. “Leaving a door unlocked is practically like leaving it wide open. Might as well invite every thief, murdered, and rapist to come inside and have some dinner. Or a snack,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, nodding to the apple in his hand. He became suddenly interested in peeling the sticker of the apple which left her time to look over her ‘mystery’ man. She had expected some muscular meathead, complete with barbed wire tattoos and the fake tan. While he was certainly muscular, he didn’t look like it was due to steroids. And the tattoos she could see weren’t of barbed wire. They were some kind of tree and branch system that covered the tops of his arms past his black t-shirt down to his elbows. They stretched up on his neck almost to his hairline. She had a weird craving to trace them up his body and find out where they all went. He was definitely good looking, must more so than she had expected. He had strong features – maybe too strong to be considered classically ‘hot’, but any girl would be blind not to be drawn to his masculinity and strength. He was not that type that asked permission. He took what (and who) he wanted, and damn if she wasn’t interested in him even after just a glance. She pulled her eyes up from his worn black t-shirt to his face. And saw that he was looking at her just as intently as she’d been looking at him. Well then. Reed didn’t even bother to pretend he hadn’t been staring at her. She was not what he had expected. Lucas was tall, lanky, and dark haired. This little number in front of him had gotten none of those genes. She was petite, curvy, and platinum blonde. Not that it was a bad thing. While she glared at him, he took in her long blonde hair, golden tanned skin, and big green eyes. Her hair was clearly styled to look windblown and tousled, and he wanted to hate that fact, but it reminded him of bed, and her in his bed. Her bangs almost covered one eye, but from what he could see, her eyes were mesmerizing. Even from his spot in the high-backed stool he could see their emerald green clarity and thick dark eyelashes. Dropping his glance down to her mouth, he smothered the urge to groan. If her hair reminded him of bed, then her lips just reminded of pure sex. Her lips were full, moist, and red. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth and he fought the urge to taste that mouth. He forced himself to look down farther, always searching for clues about his clients and their lifestyles that they wouldn’t tell him in so many words. She was wearing a knitted gray cardigan overtop of a blush pink silk tank with a patterned scarf wrapped artfully around her slim neck. She had on white skinny jeans that were tight in all the right places without being indecent. His gaze flickered over the pink earrings, pink and black Coach bag, and gray high heeled boots and knew that she was in fashion, without a shadow of a doubt. She had style, he’d give her that much. Even if she were too stupid to lock the front door when she admittedly had a stalker coming into her house. He mentally shook his head to clear his thoughts. “I’ll grab my gear out of my truck and meet you back in here. This time…lock the door,” he warned her. He scooted out his seat, took the apple core, and walked back out the front door without saying another word. Gemma was left staring back at the direction he’d walk, mouth open. What had just happened? This was the guy that was going to be living in her house? She tried to remember what they had agreed upon over the phone. Had she really just agreed to four weeks? All of a sudden, that sounded like years. She couldn’t avoid this guy for four weeks – not while he was living inside her house! She jogged softly over to the front door and slammed the deadbolt shut. Threw the gauzy drapes on her front bay window, she watched as he leaned over his back seats to get a second duffel. He heaved it onto his big shoulder and turned back towards her. Gasping, she let the curtains close again. This time, she waited until he rang the doorbell to throw open the deadbolt. He slid past her with two big black duffel bags and she noticed that he smelled pretty damn good for a bodyguard. Weren’t they supposed to smell like sweat and broken bodies? He motioned at the stairs and she nodded. “I can carry one of your bags if you need me to,” she offered, trying not to be a complete damsel in distress. He didn’t even turn around, but his voice held a note of restrained laughter. “I got it. Thanks though.” Yeah, he would have it all taken care of. She’d just met him and already could tell he was the sort of guy that always had it all taken care of. He wasn’t the sort to forget reservations, or leave his keys at the bar, or miss your birthday. He noticed everything, saw everything, remembered the details. At least, that’s what she was paying him for, wasn’t it? To be observant? To notice what she didn’t see? She motioned him farther down the hallway, but he paused in the doorway of her bedroom. She tried to see it through his eyes. She had actually bought the house first because of the home office, but second because of the master bedroom. It had a big bay window with a cushioned window seat. She had built it up with matching patterned pillows and window dressings. She had a chaise lounge in the corner in a darker tone of gray. Her bedroom furniture was a distressed gray stained wood. Accents of light butter yellow and a light coral color completed the look. He helped himself to a tour around her room, and she knew that he had caught that there was nothing out of place. She had always been that type of person. He might be attentive, but she was organized. It’s what made being her own boss work. “So how does this work…exactly?” She questioned. “You have a problem. I am the solution,” he quipped. He moved on to her bathroom and she knew what he would see. Double vanity cabinets with shiny white quartz tops. Matching yellow towels on their respective sides. Two robe hooks, one bare. This bathroom had been built for two, but it was just her now. Ever since her engagement with Jesse had fell through, she’d been on her own. She liked it that way. No excuses when he comes home late, no forgetting her birthday, no unexpected calls from strange women claiming he was the father of one of their children. “Yeah, I get that. But how exactly do you solve my problem? You’re not going to –“ Reed cut her off. “Kill him? No.” She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. A nervous laugh escaped her. “Obviously.” “Unless you want me to.” Gemma’s head whipped around when she heard his muttered statement. “No, Reed, I do not want you to kill a client of mine!” “Just checking.” His voice was little more than a low rumble of sound. “But what happens if you catch him, breaking in or vandalizing something? Do you just call the cops?” She bit the edge of her nail in thought. “Pretty sure I could ‘solve’ him like that too.” “The cops?” He repeated incredulously. “Hell no, I wouldn’t call the cops. What are they going to do…chastise him? Maybe give him a month of desk duty? No. No cops involved unless he breaks the law and we catch him doing it. And then make it public and force their hands.” “What’s your beef with cops? Weren’t you one once?” Gemma scanned her brain trying to remember exactly what he had been. Marine? Sheriff? Something like that. He snorted. “No. Navy SEAL.” Yeah, that’s what she had said, wasn’t it? All those guys in uniform were pretty much the same. Lots of steroids, different colored shirts, and weird hats. “Oh right.” “Have you ever met a SEAL, Gemma?” He had turned to question her. She could feel his steely eyes gaze right into her soul. She gave a muted nod. Then moments later shook her head the opposite direction. He continued, “That’s what I thought. You know someone in the army?” “Yeah, my ex was in the National Guard.” Reed let out a chuckle. “The National Guard isn’t even the army. That’s like the army on holiday. How long was his training?” She tried to think. How long had Jesse be gone? How many days had it taken him to find that girl ‘Calista’ in his training class? Pretty freaking soon. “Maybe a month, or so?” “The army is usually six months to a year. Know how long a Navy SEAL’s training is?” She rolled her eyes, knowing where this was going. Except that he caught the eye roll. And moved closer to her. And then she felt like her skin was crawling with anticipation. Her heart rate sped up and her palms got clammy. No man deserved to be that good looking. “N-no,” she stuttered “Two years in regular Navy training, and another year to be a SEAL. And this is not National Guard type training, sugar. We train in all conditions – desert, swamp, ice – whatever our commander tells us to do.” Reed thought back on his training. At the time, he had welcomed the rigidity. He had needed structure and order in his life and the Navy had certainly provided that. That and a lot of bruises and broken bones. She cocked her head like she was thinking and Reed wondered if she knew what a tempting picture she presented. “Is this the part where you tell me you could kill me using one finger and a toothpick?” “Nah.” He waited until she turned back around. “I wouldn’t need the toothpick.” Gemma bit back a laugh. She wanted to hate his obnoxiously bull-headed temperament, but some part of her (okay, most parts of her) just found it sexy as hell. Reed took finished taking in every part of her bedroom and bathroom. She was definitely organized, and stylish. Her room fell like a breath of fresh ar. It was light, feminine, and strangely relaxing. Her bathroom was obviously made a accommodate a couple and he found himself picturing what it would be like to wake up next to her, get ready for the day. She was definitely a catch. She seemed like she had her ducks in a row, but he must be missing something. No woman this good looking, this stylish, and with no baggage, would ever not have a man by her side at thirty. She looked up at him, clearly wondering why he had stopped. She had a sort of dazed look in her eyes that made him wonder again if she were a little…flighty. Ditzy. The hair color was definitely right for it, and she did leave her front door unlocked even though she knew a stalker was on the loose in the area. And while Lucas was a good friend, he sometimes had moments that Reed wondered at the same personality trait. As she turned to walk back through the doorway, he openly admired her shapely rear end. Damn, that was a shame. They walked in a line down the hallway a little further until they got to her spare bedroom. This one was a touch more neutral, in beiges and sky blues. He dropped his heavy duffel with all his gear onto the floor. “Mind if I take a look around? Get some cameras set up around the perimeter?” Unzipping his gear bag, it was clear that he wasn’t really asking so Gemma just nodded. She headed back downstairs, trying to remember what she had been doing. This was going to be a long couple of weeks. They’d been living together for a whole week before any incidents. They’d work out a good routine where he got up freakishly early, showered, and made coffee before she was up. After she was dressed and ready, she’d head downstairs and have her solitary cup of coffee while he was working out in her backyard. It was fall and was getting chilly outside, but it never seemed to bother him. He worked out in a t-shirt and athletic shorts. From what she could tell, he worked out like he took his protective job – very seriously. He often came in sweaty, flushed, and full of testosterone. The last couple days, when he had slid open the patio doors from outside, he had thrown her a wink and headed straight upstairs. She tried not to, but she always felt invigorated just catching that wink. Reed had been in the shower for a few minutes before he heard the scream. Not bothering to shut off the water, he jumped out of the shower, grabbed the clean pair of boxer briefs that had been waiting on the side of the countertop and, thrusting them on as he trotted down the hall and then down the stairs, headed straight to her office. She was always in her office this early in the morning. He usually heard the sewing machine and sometimes, when she was agitated, her mutterings to herself. He actually liked those. They were quirky, and cute…like her. When he didn’t catch sight of her right away, his heart started to beat even faster. Her voice sounded behind him, from the kitchen. “It’s on t-the window.” He turned towards her and saw that panic had stripped the color from her face and her hands, like her voice, were shaking. He pushed her behind him and grabbed her hand. He walked slowly, alertly, back towards the kitchen, keeping his ears trained for any sounds but, other than her shaken breathing, he heard none. Clearly whoever it had been was gone now, or hiding. He saw the letters crudely written across the patio doors he’d just come through not that long ago. They looked to be written in blood, but noticing the thick syrupy drip pattern, he would guess some kind of latex paint. “Slut,” he read outloud. He heard her squeak and turned swiftly to catch her limp body. “Gemma.” She didn’t respond, just looked back at him with those big green eyes. He thumbed away the section of hair that covered her eye. His finger stroked a light pattern against her soft skin, willing her to relax. “Gemma, it’s fine. You’re fine. It’s just a scare tactic to let you know he’s watching.” He tried to rub some color back into her cheeks. “I’m here now. The doors are locked, and we have videos up. He knows he can’t do anything to hurt you as long as I’m here. And I’m not leaving Gemma. You hear me? I’m not going anywhere.” Gemma heard the words and felt them sink into her shaken body. They left her feeling much warmer, and protected. She suddenly felt the warmth that his body had been giving her. Felt his light touch on her face, leaned into the blazing heat of his arm wrapped around her, cinching them tight together. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Garrett.” “Yes.” “What are we going to do about him,” she asked. What was there to do? “We’re going to keep doing what we have been doing until he slips up and makes himself known without a shadow a doubt. Then we either take care of it ourselves, or we report him. Which is worse for the bastard.” Reed hadn’t left any shadow of a doubt what ‘take care of him’ meant. She had visions of broken bones and blood in her house, and shuddered. Feeling her quake, he released her suddenly. That was the last thing he needed. Some helpless female putting him up on a pedestal again. He knew he didn’t want to be there. Only one way to go – down. He wasn’t perfect, and this was just a job. Nothing personal. Sure, you keep telling yourself that, he chided himself. Gemma was a beautiful woman, but that’s all it was. No substance. He didn’t know enough about her to feel like they could ever have something. It was just physical attraction – his body reacting to holding hers. But man, what a body. Today she was dressed in a salmon and black striped fitted skirt, with a black tank and a salmon blazer. She had lighter peach beads adorning her throat, with matching pearl earrings. He sent up a prayer to whoever was listening that he could keep himself distanced from her. She was a client, and the sister of a friend. And on top of that, she was a blonde. His ex had been blonde. An unfair prejudice, but he didn’t want to go back down that street. Gemma straightened her wrinkled clothes and tried to collect her thoughts. She needed to get her next client’s homecoming dress done for them to pick up this afternoon. She couldn’t afford distractions, distractions like Garrett. Or Reed, her traitorous mind whispered. She reminded herself that Reed was just doing his job. He had made no untoward advances and done nothing except protect her. She pressed her hands against her skirt and smoothed it, trying to think of something to say. “Thank you,” she decided on. “It’s what I’m here for, Gemma. You’re not alone anymore,” he gently reminded her. She made her way back to the office and he made his way back upstairs. It had only been a few minutes, when he called out for her. Curious, she trekked up the stairs, unprepared for the scene she came across Reed was standing at the doorway of the guest bathroom, with a bundle full of sopping wet towels, hair wet, and bare chest gleaming. “What happened?” She exclaimed, jogging over to the bathroom. Inside was a disaster. Everything was dripping water – the wallpaper, the drywall, even the pictures on the wall. The shower head was broken off, laying in the tub. There was a couple inches of standing water on the tile and rugs. “I left the shower running while I went downstairs. Your scream startled me and I wasn’t thinking clearly. The shower head must’ve burst off for some reason, and the water ran…everywhere.” He raked his hands through his wet hair. “I’m sorry Gemma. I can fix this, but I’ll need some time.” Gemma burst out laughing. “It’s fine, Reed. I’m sure the pipes needed to be replaced or something. I haven’t done must upkeep on this part of the house. Don’t worry about it. You can use my bathroom in the meantime.” From the intense heat that just appeared in his eyes, Gemma knew that he was picturing the two of them in the bathroom – maybe the shower – together. She had mentioned it with good intentions, but now there was a part of her that looked forward to seeing him come out of her bathroom, half dressed, every morning. She tried to keep the secret smile off her face. Bad Gemma. “Thanks. I’ll fix it during the day while you’re downstairs working, so I can keep the noise to a minimum.” Reed really did feel bad, but at least this way it gave him a project to work on during the day to keep from thinking about her. All the time. “No problem. Pick up whatever you need at the hardware store in town. Roy knows me. Just charge it to my account.” Gemma took the bundle of sopping towels from him and headed back down the hallway to the master laundry closet. Throwing the heap into the stackable washer unit, she spun the dial and threw in the soap. Then she made her way back down the stairs to finally finish Krista’s dress. Reed stared at the mess that had been the guest bathroom. It was going to be a long couple of weeks. That night, he grabbed his stuff to shower and headed to her bathroom. He pushed the door open and instantly regretted it. She was in the bathtub, hair up in towel, cheeks rosy and flushed. She gasped, obviously seeing him. “Oh shit, I’m sorry!” She sank down farther into the water. “I’m not used to sharing a bathroom. I must’ve not locked the door.” “Gemma…” His mouth was dry and felt like he’d been chewing on sawdust. He tried again, “Gemma-“ “No, it’s okay. I’m just relaxing. I’m covered – kind of. Just do your thing and I’ll shut my eyes. We’re both adults.” Gemma sounded strangely relaxed about all of this. Did it really not affect her to be naked (sort of) in front of him? Maybe not, but it was sure affecting him. And his ability to breathe. And walk. And talk. She was gorgeous. The warm water floated up to her collarbone, but her skin was flushed and pink. She smelled like some kind of fruit that he wanted to taste. Damp tendrils of surprisingly dark hair curled at the base of her neck while the rest was piled high in a turban style towel. Reed struggled to collect his thoughts, and somehow managed to respond with a, “Sure.” He set his bag on the left countertop. He pulled out his toothbrush, toothpaste, shaving kit, and aftershave. Taking a peek at her and seeing that she had dutifully closed her eyes, he shed his boxer briefs and headed into the tiled shower. He pulled the glass shower door behind him, but realized without any steam or film on it, the door was as good as a window. Mentally shrugging, he turned on the water and tilted his head back. After wetting his hair, he realized that the only shampoo that was in there smelled of verbena and grapefruit. “Uh, Gemma?” he called out. Gemma shut her eyes quickly. “Still not looking!” She heard what sounded like strangled laughter coming from the inside of the shower. “Thanks. I left my shampoo on the counter, so either I gotta come out again, or…” Reed trailed off. Realizing she was close to being wrinkly anyway, she offered, “Stay in there. I’m just getting out anyway. I’ll toss it in!” Hearing a grunt that she took to mean that was a great idea, she hit the plug to let the water drain and slowly stood. She stretched, enjoying the relaxed state of her muscles and the feeling of the water sluicing off her warm body. She grabbed the towel hanging on the robe hook and stepped carefully out of the whirlpool onto the bath mat. Thankful for the heated tile floors, she padded over to his side of the countertop. She sorted through his toilette bag, noting that everything inside was black and masculine. She recognized the smell she had caught when he’d first met her – his after shave. It was a clean smell, with a hint of something spicy. On him, it smelled downright naughty but in the bottle she liked it too. She grasped the shampoo and turned to throw it in. She hadn’t realized that the shower door wouldn’t conceal any of its contents. She could see his naked body clear through the glass. Seeing that his eyes were closed, enjoying the water running over his face and body, she took a few moments to glory in his nakedness. He was the perfect specimen of man. His tattoos roped around his body in some kind of intricate branching. He was masculinity, strength, and artistry all wrapped up into one tasty package. Mentally slapping herself, she tossed the shampoo over the top of the shower door and turned back to her side of the countertop. It was erotic, to hear the sounds of him shampooing and then rinsing his body. She tried to focus on reapplying her makeup in the mirror. When the shower head turned off, her body warned her in goose bumps. She felt his presence behind her, drying off with the towel hanging on his hook. Moments later, he was next to her in the mirror. He squeezed the toothpaste onto his toothbrush and brushed for what seemed like eternity while she put on mascara, eyeliner, and a clear lip gloss. “Are you going out tonight or something?” he asked, curious. “Yeah, it’s Lucas’ girlfriend’s art gallery opening,” she started. “And before you even think about telling me not to go, I have to. I need to show support for both her and Lucas, especially since my name carries a little weight in the local art world.” “I was just going to ask you what I should wear,” he mused. “Black tie or what?” “Yes,” she answered. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you before this. Do you have to go out and get something?” “No, I always carry a couple different outfits in case my clients have something come up that I need to attend,” his use of the word client seeming to strike a nerve within her. “Perfect,” she answered, annoyed. Of course he would have a black tie type suit. The man was always prepared. While he finished getting ready in the bathroom, she headed into her walk-in closet off the bathroom, still in her towel. She walked far enough inside that he couldn’t see and put on her black underthings, slip, and the dress she had planned on wearing. She loved this dress and had been saving it for a special occasion. She had started designing it for a customer who had decided that it was too revealing for their age. She had finished it with herself in mind and was proud of the piece she had created. It was a flowing style that moved when she walked. It was built in two pieces – the first to be a body hugging knit little black dress with a scooped neckline. The over piece was a blush pink transparent fabric. The neckline was only a small strip of black fabric. The pink piece came up from the waist in two sections, hugging each breast, and thinned out until it reached the neckline. Attached only by the barest threads, it gave the illusion of concealing, yet revealing. On her hips, she had placed two slashes in the transparent material so the black material could be seen through. It was feminine yet strong, and she felt sexy in it. And the best part was that the dress complimented her finally natural colored auburn hair. She had enjoyed being a blonde, but was glad that she was back to her normal shade of deep reddish brown. She topped off the outfit with a pair of black swooped heels that had a peek of pink underneath on the sole and the heel. She put in a pair of black diamond stud earrings, and a black diamond rope bracelet, grabbed her sleek black and rose gold Kate Spade purse and headed out through the bathroom. Reed heard the click of high heels behind him on the tiled floors, and caught a glimpse of her in his mirror. All air promptly left his body. In a towel and bath water, she had been gorgeous. In this get up of black and pink, she looked good enough to eat. She was sexy and stunning, her body shone off to perfection in the hip hugging concoction of a dress. His eyes roamed hungrily over her, until he got to her hair. He felt like he’d had the breath knocked out of him. “Your hair,” he started hoarsely. She patted it self-consciously, hanging loose and natural still. “Yeah, I was sick of being blonde. I had the color stripped back out while I was gone today,” she said offhandedly, pulling out and plugging in a curling iron. Reed was shocked. She wasn’t a blonde? All of a sudden his testosterone kicked it up into high gear. That last little piece felt like it had been clicked into place. She was strong, stubborn, sexy as hell – and she was a brunette? Fate was sure playing games with him this month, tempting him with this little vixen. She finished curling her hair while he still stood there gaping after her, and clicked out of the bathroom and down the stairs. Down boy, he cautioned himself. He finished throwing on his clothes and then walked down the stairs. As they left the house, she noticed that there were two more special locks on each door, one with some kind of square key-looking thing that he inserted in to lock and unlock it, and one that he pressed her hand against. She looked inquiringly at him. He answered her mental question. “Thumb scanner. Worked better than a standard lock, and you don’t have to worry about where you put your thumbs.” He winked at her and Gemma bit back a laugh. He was really quite charming when he wanted to be. She headed towards the driver’s side and heard his throat clear. Loudly. She sighed. “What, you need to drive too? Uh uh. Not my car, baby!” “No problem.” She was surprised when he acquiesced to quickly. Then she heard the rest of his sentence. “Then we’ll take mine.” Secretly she had been hoping that he’d take control. Again. Something about a man behind the wheel that really did it for her. They walked down her driveway and stopped in front of his truck. Warily, she eyed up the distance between the ground and where her feet needed to be to get in. When her eyes went back to his, she realized the fool was laughing at her. “Don’t even dare, Reed Thomas!” She warned him using her most threatening Mom voice. It didn’t stop him from scooping her up, one hand on the small of her back and one hand under her thighs. He walked up to the truck door, shifted her weight so she rested solely on his left hand, and opened it up. He deposited her (gently, at least) in the passenger side leather seat. “I’ll get you back,” she threatened. “I’m counting on it,” he retorted. Gemma bit back a smile. She settled back into the seat and studied her nails while he hopped into the driver’s seat. During the course of the twenty minute ride, she caught his eyes on her more than a few times. She leaned back, enjoying the intense attention of such a man. When he pulled alongside a dark tinted van and he had to ‘investigate it fully’, she took the opportunity to lean back, hike up her already short skirt, and fluff her hair. Hey, if he wanted to look, let the man look! Reed didn’t miss her actions. SEAL training was for far more trained spies. She didn’t stand a chance. Instead of being annoyed by her attempts to attract him, all he could do was fall right into her feminine trap. Her legs were a golden tan that screamed sunshine and coconut oil. His gaze slip up her calves to her sleek thighs and his mind immediately went to what went under a dress like that. Eyes on the road, Thomas. His subconscious screamed at him to get it together. What was it about this woman that made him feel like a randy teenager again? They made it to the venue in one piece. He helped her out of the truck, relishing the chance to get his hands on her, if only briefly. The party went off without a hitch. Even Lucas had made it, and he honestly enjoying catching up with him. It was after midnight when they left the opening. He helped her once more into the truck, this time, his hands lingering just longer than was necessary. He had just gotten settled into the driver’s seat and veered onto the highway when he felt her head touch his shoulder. The instant heat traveled from his shoulder down her arm and into his hands. He raised him arm, settling it lightly on her shoulder. Snuggling closer, her hand ended up high on his thigh. He gave a sharp intake of breath and the warmth of her touch through his thin dress pants. “Gemma,” he growled. “Yes, Reed?” she asked innocently. “I’m driving,” he warned. Inside, Gemma’s goddess screeched to be let loose. “Then maybe you should pull over.” Gemma’s sultry invitation echoed through the cab, and Reed’s gaze shot to her. Five seconds later, they were turning off onto the exit ramp and into a deserted rest stop. Reed threw it into park and turned towards her with a feral look. Gemma shivered, and she knew that Reed saw. He saw everything. The way her heartbeat picked up when his finger traced a line from her shoulder to her wrist, and then to her hand. The way her hand trembled when he laced his fingers through hers. And he definitely saw the way she licked her lips when he leaned in towards her mouth. “Gemma, you better stop me now,” he cautioned. “In a few minutes, I’m not going to be satisfied just kissing you.” Gemma shivered again, just at the words coming out of his mouth. “Good.” Reed leaned the next few inches in until finally their lips met. It’s like a hurricane was released inside the truck. The emotions and attraction they’d both been holding back was let go in a furious storm. Gemma lost track of who was kissing whom. Their lips met and parried, thrust and retreated. His mouth was sin itself, velvety and moist. His tongue requested entrance and she bit his lower lip in retaliation. His groan reverberated through her mouth, and she took the chance to slide her hand into his dress shirt. Seconds later, the buttons were flung all over the leather interior. Her giggle turned to a moan as his mouth suckled on the sensitive space between her neck and shoulder. She felt her seat start to recline backwards, not even knowing how he had snuck his hand on the left side of her to press the button. As it reclined, his weight pressed against her in all the right places. His fingertips grazed from her jawline, down her collarbone, to the sheer material caressing the top of her breast. “So beautiful,” he murmured. Placing kisses along the neckline, she gasped when his tongue suckled through the material to the tender peak of her breast. She felt a jolt of moisture between her legs and had to stop herself from grinding into the seat for release. His tongue flicked once, twice, three times over the hardened tip and each time she felt it straight to her core. In order to draw his attention away from her now aching crest, she licked the side of his cheek – tasting the salt of his skin. He growled, trying to draw her touch away from him. She rubbed the pads of her fingers against his male nipples and felt him gyrate against her in response. She could feel his manhood press against her thin skirt, wanted to rip away her clothes like he had done with his. She rotated her hips to experiment and was rewarded with his groan. She felt his hand reach underneath the thin skirt to her bare thigh. His fingers trailed fire up to her panty line. When his fingers slide inside to caress her heat, she writhed against him. She begged him, aching for more. She felt one finger slide into her, felt her body clench around his. His lips fell against the side of her throat. Her panties slid off her, down her legs until only his pants remained as the barrier between full bodily contact. As if realizing the same fact, he bent over to unbutton them. She swatted his hand away, her fingers on his button. He shivered, feeling the tips of her fingers graze the outline of his manhood. She caressed him for a few seconds, until his body started to undulate into her hand. Helping him take them off, she had only a few moments to palm him until he grasped her hand, locking it with his, and securing it up over her head. He guided himself into her with his free hand. They let out simultaneous groans at the scorching heat of their attraction. Reed started up an intense rhythm of thrusting and caressing until she was a writhing bundle of raw nerves. Each thrust carried her closer to release, but each time he withdrew she was left short until she was begging him. Reed held on as long as he could, until her body started to milk him in the rhythm of her release. When her body squeezed around him like a warm glove, he let out a roar and started to shake. He placed his finger on her so that his last few thrusts rubbed against her very core. Their bodies vibrated in mutual release until he collapsed against her. They sat like that for what seemed like eternity, until Reed remembered where they are, and rearranged her clothing. With every piece that he put in place, he took a kiss as a toll until they were both breathless and laughing. Checking the clock, he finally dressed them until they were appropriate, and then pulled out of the lot. Pulling onto her street, he looked over. Her eyelashes were closed, and her cheeks were red – although if that was from the alcohol or the lovemaking, he couldn’t say. As soon as he threw the truck into park and climbed out of the truck, his senses starting tingling. Something was wrong. Years as a SEAL had taught him to trust those instincts. They’d kept him alive in far more dangerous places than North Carolina. Not wanting to scare Gemma on the off chance his inner voice was wrong, he helped her down out of the truck, placed his hand on the small of her back, and led her up to the front door. If she noticed anything was wrong, she didn’t say anything. He hoped that the alcohol and the long hours of the gallery opening had dulled all of her senses. After successfully getting through the complicated locking mechanisms now on all her doors, he took the lead and went in first. He could tell she thought that was odd, but probably just chalked it up to bad manners. Once inside, he took sweeping checks through each room they walked through and didn’t find anything out of order. He took off her jacket and put it into the back closet. He checked the backdoor while she was removing her shoes. It wasn’t locked. “We should get you to bed,” he said, trying to keep any note of panic from creeping into his voice. He could already feel his body sink into the familiar protection mode. His muscles tensed, his senses searched for any noises out of the norm. He felt jumpy and still at the same time, like a panther poised for the kill stroke. His eyes registered a movement in the pantry opening. Before even considering what (or who) it might be, he needed to find a way to get Gemma upstairs and out of harm’s way. She hadn’t even responded to his suggestion of making it upstairs. In fact, she looked about ready to pass out in the chair in her office. He called to her sharply, “Gemma!” She responded with a drowsy, “What? Geez. I’m going.” He didn’t move from his spot until he heard her footsteps on the stairs. Knowing that he know stood between danger and Gemma, he allowed his full attention to land on the intruder. He walked softly through the kitchen, wishing that his duffel bag was downstairs but knowing that he had stashed a gun in the flour jar, and a knife above the door jamb of the patio door. “I know you’re in here,” his voice was menacingly soft. When he heard the shower turn on upstairs, he knew that no matter what happened now, Gemma was safe. Knowing the way she cranked the music up during her showers, she probably wouldn’t hear anything if a herd of elephants traipsed through her living room. He reached the pantry in a few more steps. Instead of going inside, he side stepped over to the patio door. Unlatching it without looking, he slid the glass panel open. He stepped outside onto the rear deck and waited, hoping and praying that Garrett would take the bait. When he saw the shadow move from inside the pantry to the corner of the kitchen, he knew it had worked. He turned so his back faced the patio door and acted like he was scanning the property, while he kept his peripheral vision sharply turned toward the house. The shadow moved quickly through the doors and down the steps. When it was a half step away from him, he turned, and pressed his shoulder into Garrett’s midriff. He had caught him mid launch and felt the air leave Garrett’s body. They quickly began of game of attacks and blocks. Reed had underestimated Garrett’s lithe strength but it was no match for his brute assets. Reed had trained for years with the best servicemen in the world. He had taken his fair share of punches, and delivered just as many. He understood how to take the weakest point in a body and turn it against him. When Garrett’s strength staring waning and his breathing thickened, Reed knew it was close to an end. His biggest decision now was how to make sure this didn’t happen again. Just like the previous times, Garrett had left no derisive evidence that he had entered her house, or that any crime had really been committed. Reed didn’t even want to think about what would’ve happened had he not been around this evening. Gemma had been drunk and tired, and even at full strength she wouldn’t have had a chance of besting Garrett. Angered at the thought of her being injured, he tackled Garrett until they were both sprawled on the ground. His knee pressed against the sensitive bones in Garrett’s throat and he pressed harder until he heard the wheezing breath. Garrett’s face turned a hideous shade of mottle purple and Reed knew he was close to passing out. Garrett reached up and caught Reed’s throat in his left hand. Gemma got out of the shower, humming to herself. She felt much more refreshed. The party had gone longer than she’d thought, and while she could say it was that event that had her so exhausted, it had been the vigorous lovemaking afterward. Just thinking about it turned her all warm inside. When he had basically ordered her upstairs, she had assumed that he was up for round two.She dressed in her favorite ice blue silk nightgown, dabbed some perfume on the base of her neck, and headed back into the master. Seeing that Reed wasn’t there, she figured he must’ve decided on coffee. After living together for the last couple weeks, she knew that he oddly like coffee before he attempted to sleep. She descended the stairs, surprised that he wasn’t in the office or living room. When she got to the kitchen, she realized he wasn’t there either. She went to flick on the light and halfway through the motion caused some kind of flurry outside. It almost looked like…people! More specifically Reed and…Garrett? Gemma cried out, neither man able to hear through their grunting and the partially closed patio door. She had barely made it through the patio door when she saw Garrett’s hand close around Reeds hand. She let out a scream and both men froze. She felt Garrett’s eyes on her, but only cared about Reed. His face was turned away from her. “Garrett! Let him go!” She was proud to hear that her voice didn’t quiver. “Is this who you replaced me with? This…meathead?” Gemma wondered that she ever thought he was remotely attractive. Seeing him like this, hearing him, she was just reminded of a petulant child. “Garrett, we were never together. You’re with Laura, remember?” She tried to adopt the same tone one would when speaking to a small child. Soothing, nurturing. He didn’t respond, and she didn’t see his hand loosen around Reed’s neck. “Look at me, Garrett. I’m right here. Do you want to talk about it?” She edged closer to the two men. Reed still hadn’t looked at her. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he whined. “You’ve already chosen, haven’t you? Well, if I can’t have you then no one can!” Too late Reed realized his intention. Up until that moment, he’d just been biding his time waiting until Garrett’s attention would shift fully to Gemma. The hand at this throat was weakening but Reed needed all of his strength to wane so that one powerful blow would knock him out cold. At the last word of his threat, Garrett had pushed off of Reed and locked his arm behind Gemma’s head, twisting her toward Reed. Her eyes flashed angrily before dulling as Garrett’s forearm started to crush her windpipe. “Garrett, you’re going to hurt her,” he said slowly. He started to inch forward, keeping his hands up in the air. “Don’t come any closer!” Garrett flexed his arm and Reed saw Gemma flinch. He immediately stopped his advance. He leaned his body closer to the large tree behind him. If he could just reach it, he had a gun stowed away in the knot of the tree. When Gemma’s gaze flicked to the tree, he knew she had remembered him listing off the areas where he kept arms in case he was ever incapacitated. Garrett starting muttering and caressing his face with his free hand almost lovingly. Reed couldn’t heard what he was saying at this distance, but from the pallor of Gemma’s face he knew that it was affecting her. He reached up blindly with his left hand but knew that it was a good foot away. With no way to reach it without drawing attention to himself, he held his position and waited for the right moment. Suddenly, Gemma appeared to collapse in Garrett’s arms. One minute she was standing and the next her knees had buckled and started to take him down with her. Not questioning her motives, Reed lunged for the gun. Feeling the cold metal against his fingertips, he cocked it with his thumb, drew it, and trained it on the two intertwined bodies. “Let her go, Garrett.” His voice was like a band of iron, dangerous and deadly. Garrett started to retreat, releasing his arm from around Gemma’s throat. She gasped a shattered breath into her bruised lungs. Reed couldn’t even look at her yet. This was his fault. He should’ve eliminated the threat days ago. He had not taken Garrett’s threats seriously and now she was hurt. “You can have her for now, but I’ll be back.” “No, you won’t,” said a voice from across the fence. A tall man in what looked to be his late forties appeared between the two connecting yards. “Who the hell are you?” Garrett demanded, his eyes wavering between Reed and this newcomer. “Dean Unger. I live next door. I also know who you are, Garrett White. And my friend, Captain Medici would be very interested in what you’re up to on your off-days, eh?” “No one’s going to believe you. You have no proof!” Garrett sounded a lot less sure than he had minutes ago. “That’s what security cameras are for, Mr. White. I saw you disable Ms. Harris’ cameras, and that piqued my interested. So I turned my deer hunting tree cams onto the property.” Gemma could’ve kissed Dean. He continued, “So get the hell of her property if you want a head start. I called the cops uh – six – minutes ago. Should be here anytime now.” As if on cue, the sirens started to sound from down the street. Garrett looked like he was about to lose his lunch. Everything else happened much more quickly than Gemma would’ve imagined. Garrett was arrested and she and Reed had to make statements at the downtown office. Everyone there was surprisingly helpful, considering they had just lost one of their own. Around four in the morning they were released. They were taken back home in the squad car. When the car pulled up in the driveway, Reed had to gently shake Gemma to wake her up. Only getting a murmured response and her blinking sleepily at him, he thanked the officer and then carried her inside. She didn’t wake up even when he undid the silk robe and coat, and placed her into bed wearing nothing but the nightie she’d put on so much earlier. Reed couldn’t resist placing a soft kiss on her forehead. When his lips touched her forehead, Gemma mumbled something incoherent and then a soft, “Stay.” Reed warred with himself for a few minutes before ultimately decided that staying through the night with her couldn’t do any harm. The job was done, the problem, solved, and now they were back to the way it should’ve been – just man and woman. He dumped his clothes by the bed and climbed in with her. He was enveloped by the scent of something fruity, floral, and just the essence of Gemma. He tucked the covers in around her, effectively distancing himself. When she turned her face into the pillow and mumbled, then snored, he finally closed his own eyes. What a night. He tried to clear his mind, and then sleep finally came. Gemma woke up in a cocoon of heat. Bits and pieces of the night before rushed through her mind. Smelling that mixture of man and cologne, her subconscious registered the fact that Reed was in bed with her. She peeked her eyes open, realizing that it was full daylight. She groaned and tried to pull the covers up higher over her head. She heard a rumble of a laugh. “Can’t sleep forever, honey.” Her heart warming at the endearment, she took inventory of her clothing. She was still fully clothed, with the exception of her robe. “I’m sorry, you probably wanted to go home last night,” she apologized. In the daylight, everything started to become clearer. His job was over. He’d be leaving. Really, he should’ve already left. Why was he still here? Was she supposed to pay him right now? “Gemma, stop thinking.” Her eyes met his, surprised. “Reed, I don’t know what to think after last night.” “Yeah, it was pretty crazy. How do you feel?” Reed started to finger the bruises at her throat. “Oh, that’s fine. I meant…” Gemma broke off her statement. How could she possibly explain that she was more confused about their relationship than what had happened with Garrett last night? Was this all just about the job to him? Maybe she was reading too much into things. “Gemma, I get it. You feel some weird source of…gratefulness…towards me. But that’s all it is. Last night was just a messed up situation and you’re in no emotional state to decide anything about us.” Gemma’s eyes widened in shock. Not that he’d recognized the situation, but that he had misinterpreted it so seriously. Her draw to him had been instantaneous. It definitely had nothing to do with being ‘grateful’. She opened her mouth, but he cut her off by throwing off the covers and dressing hurriedly. Drawing up his pants, he issued the final blow. “Gemma, I’m leaving. Today. Now.” She shut her mouth and just glared at him. Fine, if it was going to be like this. “The job is done, and I can’t stay with you for one more minute. If I stay, I’m going to do something completely inappropriate and I’d never forgive myself if I took advantage of you while you’re emotionally shook up.” “Reed, I-“ She started, determined to make him see the truth. “No, just…don’t. Gemma…” Reed seemed to lose his steam. “Gemma, I care about you. Way more than I should’ve for a job. When I saw him come after you, touch you, and knew that I had made that mistake…I felt sick. I was supposed to be protecting you, and all I did was put you in danger and focus more on my sexual needs than keeping you safe.” Gemma couldn’t do anything more than look back at him and waited for him to continue. “You’re something special, Gem. And you’re beautiful. And kind. And talented. And you deserve someone way better than a guy who’s only skills are to wound others,” he said. “But if this isn’t a kneejerk reaction to last night, and if you felt something before all of this, and can forgive me for not protecting you as well as I should, then you have my number.” She seriously considered calling him as he was standing there. Interrupting his perfect speech. The idiot didn’t even realize that she was half in love with him already. Half? Was there such a thing? For the rest of her life, she would remember the feeling she had when she saw Garrett’s hand around Reed’s neck. Her body had instantly gone cold, her brain trying to function in a way that would keep him safe. Reed picked up his shirt and headed out of her room. Turning back just before shutting the door, he said “A week. If you want to talk to me in a week, then I’ll know you had time to think about things. If I don’t hear from you, just know that I would’ve done everything in my power to keep you safe, Gemma.” The door clicked shut softly behind him. Gemma waited for him to come back in, but he didn’t. Later, she heard the front door click and then the sound of the deadbolt flip over. She waited. She waited one whole week. She waited until exactly 10AM – seven days – and then she dialed his number. On the first ring, his familiar voice answered. “Gemma.” That was Reed. No questions, no false curiosity. “Reed, I want you. And I definitely need you. And I think I’m falling in love with you.” “Gemma…” she held her breath. If he turned her down now, she would fall apart. “I’m in love with you.” She heard the knock at her front door and raced down towards it. Throwing it open, and the cellphone onto a waiting chair, she threw her arms around him. “How did you know?” “Navy SEAL remember? I knew you’d wait until exactly one week.” Reed set her back down on her feet, and thrust both hands into her hair. Bringing their faces close together, he stared into her eyes. “I love you, Gemma.” Her eyes turned glassy with tears. “I love you too, jerk.” She might’ve taken that last step forward, or maybe he did. Either way, their lips met in an explosion of sparks. And the Navy SEAL that was trained to lock every door, forgot, just this once, to even shut the door.