HelenKay Dimon - Sheltered

She walked over to where he stood by the edge, staring out into the yard and across the black water of the small lake fifty feet in front of it. He leaned with his palms resting against the railing. The move had him bending slightly, showing off those shoulders and his very impressive backside.

The faded jeans balancing on those hips. The muscles rippling to the point she could see them through the thin fabric of his T-shirt. She’d never noticed a man’s clothes before, but on him she noticed everything.

She stood even with him and listened to the sound of animals scurrying in the dark and the steady brush of leaves blowing in the wind. “So you’re always going to be hanging around here when you’re not working.”

He nodded without looking at her. “For now, pretty much.”

Even though his stance appeared relaxed, something about him seemed to be on high alert. She could feel the energy pulse off him. Watch his gaze as he scanned the area from one side to the other.

With him around she felt safe, and that was new. She’d learned early to depend on herself. Not expect anything. Hide and run and adapt. That had been her mantra to the day she found her way back to Justice, Oregon, only a few miles from the place that defined so much of who she was and how she saw the world.

As the months ticked by, exhaustion settled in. She helped other members of New Foundations get out. Laid the groundwork and found them new living arrangements. Through her past had the contacts to change identities and keep them safe.

She’d only worked with a few because breaking the silence barrier at the compound proved almost impossible. She had to wait until someone said something to someone and it filtered through contacts back to her. Then came weeks of secret meetings as she built trust.

The whole strategy could be tedious and never amounted to enough. The campground still loomed.

But last night, for the first time in years, she slept without moving and jerking and waking up every few hours. She wanted to think handling the two armed men who stormed her house had something to do with it, but she knew a large thank-you went to Holt. He’d stayed on her couch and kept his promises. Harm did not come knocking and he did not do anything to scare her.

And now they’d arrived at night number two. “I’ve decided it’s okay for you to stay.”

He threw her the side eye before going back to his visual tour of the property in front of them. “You just figured that out now?”

It was amazing how she could start thinking good things about him and working up a warm fuzzy feeling and then he’d talk and—boom—the goodwill fizzled. Communicating did not appear to be where they excelled. “I looked into the Corcoran Team.”

He turned then. Stood up and gave her his full attention. “Okay.”

“I’m thinking I saw a sanitized version, like the version you and your people were okay with me seeing, but I was able to find some references.” After an internet search turned up bland and unhelpful results, she’d called in some favors to help her get through a firewall or two. She had a bit of inside information on the group.

“That’s kind of the point. It’s hard to work undercover, which we sometimes need to do, if everyone can find your face all over social media.”

“Makes sense.” And the information she’d found bore that out. The group had taken on huge companies and small governments, the NCIS and government contractors. The only allegiance the members appeared to have was to each other. “Even confirmed your existence on the team with your boss.”

That had been an interesting exercise. She’d seen a few references to Connor Bowen, the owner and leader, and to one other member of the team, a former NCIS agent, but no one else. There could be two guys on the team or two hundred and there was no way for her to tell just by searching around.

The wall of secrecy extended to the team’s location and exactly what they could do and how much the government knew about their work. There had been exactly one photo, an older one of Connor Bowen. He had the tall, dark and handsome thing down. Looking at Holt, Lindsey wondered if “speech-stealing hot” was some sort of job requirement for this group.

Connor’s deep and reassuring voice had matched the confident look he wore in the photo. He hadn’t sounded all that shocked about Holt giving away his identity, but Connor had made her repeat three times the part about Holt playing the role of her fake boyfriend. She’d swear he’d laughed.

“Wait a minute.” Holt shook his head as if trying to assess what she’d just said. “Connor actually talked with you?”

“Well, finding the number proved impossible. I had to call other agencies and do a bunch of internet searches, all which pointed to the fact the Corcoran Team didn’t have a number I could access. To the extent anyone admitted Corcoran even existed. Then right when I gave up, the phone rang and Connor was on the line.” The whole thing had a Big-Brother-is-watching feel that freaked her out. “Spooky, by the way.”

“Joel tracks all searches for Corcoran. He lets people see only what he wants them to see so he can monitor and do some looking of his own.”

She had no idea who that was, but her mind went to a bigger question. “Searches where?”

A faint smile crossed Holt’s mouth. “Everywhere.”

“The information lockdown is a bit intimidating.” She could think of a few more words, but that seemed like the nicest.

“Just as Connor wants it.”

“Well, he didn’t seem happy about me bugging him, but yes. He answered my questions...sort of.” The man had sounded downright stunned when she insisted she needed some sort of verification of Holt’s identity. She could only assume other people saw Holt’s imposing form and I’m-in-charge swagger and capitulated without a fight.

Not her. If he wanted that kind of woman, she was not his type...not that he served as anything other than a bodyguard for her.

“I filled him in on the status of the assignment an hour ago.” Holt started to say something else, then stopped.

“He must have called me right after that.” Or at least that was what he’d told her. “Apparently you told him you broke cover.”

Holt switched to frowning. Something he excelled at to the point of being an expert. “You’re sounding sort of official there.”

“I borrowed his phrase.” If she could remember more, she’d throw them out, too.

“So now you know I’m legitimate and we can stop arguing about that, right?” Holt’s gaze returned to the yard and the shuffling of dirt in the distance.

She shrugged even though the gesture was wasted. He didn’t even give her eye contact. “For now.”

Without seeming to move, he angled his body. Stood partway in front of her, blocking her body from the quiet night beyond them. “I’m at a disadvantage here. You know about me and you’re not coughing up any details about yourself.”

“Noticed that, did you?”

He winked at her. “Don’t let the shoulders fool you. I’m not as slow as I look.”

That zapped the amusement right out of her. “You’re not going to forget I said that, are you?”

“No way.”

She rushed to fix her mess. “What I meant was—”

He pinned her in place with a quick glance. “I know what you meant.”

The guy could stop looking like that. So determined and...big. He crowded in on her on the large open porch without even moving. Something about the way he held his body and aimed that intense stare had her squirming.

“Clearly you don’t have a problem with ego.” She wished he taught a class in that, because she’d be in the front row.

“I know mutual attraction when I see and feel it.”