Shiloh Walker: The Protected

“Well?”

She blinked and then glanced over at the bed frame. Yeah. He’d asked her a question, hadn’t he? Sighing, she studied it for a minute and then glanced over at the mattress propped against the opposite wall.

If she had her way, she’d just knock it down, crawl onto the bed, curl into a ball, and pass out. But that wasn’t an option.

“Staring at it isn’t going to do the job.” He gestured at it. “You know how to put it together?”

There was something about the way he talked, she decided. Something besides the fact that his voice was sexy as hell. Low and smooth as silk, rich as melted chocolate and just as sinful. Down, girl , she told herself absently as she pushed her sore body away from the wall and studied the bed frame. Yeah, yeah, staring at it wasn’t going to help, but she was hoping she’d remember how it had been put together.

It had been bought at a thrift store and it was pretty. Vaughnne had a weakness for pretty things and she had no problem admitting it. But the pale green patina of the metal looked like a mind-bending puzzle just then. Propping her hands on her hips, she tried to remember the way everything had gone together and then she just sighed. “I have absolutely no fu . . .” Then she clamped her mouth shut and shot a look toward the hall. The kid. She wasn’t used to being around kids. “Ah . . . sorry. I have absolutely no idea.”

Gus nodded. “I’ll go home and grab my tools. But that’s about all we can do.”

She should tell him it wasn’t necessary. She knew that. But he’d offered. She needed to do what was necessary to get them to like her, trust her . . . and if he decided to offer a hand here and there? Why not accept it?

Wiping her forearm over her brow, she gave him a smile. Even though the headache pounding inside her head was about ready to kill her, she didn’t let it show. “I appreciate it. Hey, I don’t know if y’all ate anything, but I am starving so I’m going to order a pizza.”

“We had dinner, thanks.”

She arched a brow. “You sure? I’ve never seen a teenaged boy say no to pizza.”

“ANOTHER box of books?” Alex lugged it over and dumped it on the floor next to the bookshelves she’d picked up. The bookshelves had also come from a thrift store. But the books were hers. Since she didn’t know just how long she’d have to be babysitting , Vaughnne planned to keep herself entertained.

And she’d only brought four boxes.

Grinning at him, she sauntered over and peered inside the box. “Yeah. And that’s the last of them, too.”

He wrinkled his nose and said, “Is it a bunch more of those stupid girly books?”

“I’ll have you know those girly books are awesome,” she said loftily. “You’d be amazed at what a guy can learn from reading girly books.”

“Girly books?”

That voice. It was too damned appealing. Shooting Gus a look from over her shoulder, she shrugged. “That’s what he calls romance.”

“Girly books.” Gus smirked. “Well, I would likely call them girly books as well. A man won’t learn much from them.”

“Shows what you know, pal.” She sank to the floor and started pulling the books from the box. Once she had some books on the shelves, she’d feel a little more at ease, she thought. Whether she was in Orlando or not. Having something of hers around would just make her feel better. “For one , a smart guy learns it’s not a wise move to go and knock what a lady enjoys reading. If it makes her happy and it’s not hurting anything? What’s the issue?”

“Books like those are unrealistic,” Gus said. He shrugged and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a pristine white handkerchief that looked out of place with his battered clothes, the faded jeans.

He had elegant hands, she thought. Very elegant hands.

And she was getting distracted. “Unrealistic,” she drawled. Snorting, she pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them. “Riiiggggghhhht . . . like Star Wars isn’t. Lord of the Rings. Lord of the Flies. Bunnicula. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone .”

“None of those books promise that love will conquer over all.”

Vaughnne snorted. “Neither does romance make those promises. They are just books . Reading them doesn’t mean I’m looking for a space pirate to solve all my problems. I can handle my problems just fine on my own.”

“Space pirates?” Alex asked, his eyes rounding.

“Yeah . . .” She slid him a sly smile. “And that one got caught by a bounty hunter. Who was a chick.”

Gus snorted. Then he shoved off the wall and gestured down the hall. “Milady, your bower awaits. But you’ll need to help me get the mattress onto the bed frame.”

HE probably should have tried to do it himself. He could have, but he wanted to make sure the bed was where she wanted it before he bothered. But now, in addition to having images of tasting her mouth, he wanted to see her stretched out on the bed, all that long, wild hair spread out around her as he stripped her clothes away.

He was too intimately acquainted with that body after three hours of helping her drag and move and push furniture, boxes, and every other damn thing she’d had crammed into that truck. Too familiar with those long, lean muscles and the way she moved with more confidence and control than any woman should have a right to.

He had more than a passing acquaintance with females. He’d had lovers whose bodies were honed to an athletic tightness, and others who were so soft and lushly female. Lovers whose bodies had been sculpted by the finest plastic surgeons around, and he appreciated every damned last one.

But Vaughnne . . . his hands itched to strip her naked already and he had no idea just why . It had been years since he’d had time to indulge in such a thing, but he hadn’t had any trouble ignoring it until today. Until her.

She was a powerhouse of curves and sleek muscles, the kind of muscles that came from a dedication to fitness, yet none of it had affected the sheer female beauty of her. Her hips and ass were still lush and round, her breasts soft and full under the tank top she wore. Every once in a while, her bra strap had peeked out from under the edge of the shirt, simple and black, and it was driving him out of his mind.

“I think this will do.”

As she stroked a hand down the mattress, he tracked the motion of her hand for a moment before he schooled his features into blankness and lifted his gaze to study her face. Her features had to be the most unique he’d ever seen. She was pretty, yes. Not beautiful, but pretty.

And unique, with those dark freckles dancing across her nose, a top-heavy mouth, and her smooth, warm brown skin.

“Is the bed where you want it?” he asked. He thought it would do better under the window. Where the morning light would come in and dance across that perfect body of hers.

Vaughnne heaved out a sigh and lifted her arms. She dragged the bandanna off her hair with one hand and used the other to gather her hair into a tail. “At this point, you could have glued the stupid thing to the ceiling and I wouldn’t care. I just want it done. I’ll take a better look around tomorrow, and if it’s not where I want it, I can get it moved on my own.”

She fished around in her pocket and pulled out a little black band, snapping it around her hair before shooting a look at her watch. “Now if that damn pizza would get here—”

The doorbell rang.

Alex appeared in the doorway, and although he knew Vaughnne wouldn’t see it, the boy’s face was taut, tense with nerves.

With that easy smile on her face, Vaughnne said, “It’s about damn time. You two sure you don’t want some? There are plates and stuff in the kitchen.”