Stella went to her own room and closed the door. So much had happened in just the last couple of hours. She felt raw and vulnerable, like the world was full of spikes and she kept running into them as she tried to move forward, looking to the horizon and wondering why everything hurt so much.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself, she thought firmly. She reached for her notebook and pencil.
Drawing almost always made her feel better. She’d focus on something positive, and become so immersed in it that she forgot about all of the negative feelings. Or she’d just draw, and realize that whatever had been bothering her had come out on the paper, and it lived there now, instead of inside her own head.
So she drew.
And what took shape was Nate Sanders’ face.
His serious, determ
ined face, with that confident expression that said that nothing was going to mess with anyone on his watch. No give to his mouth, but those blue eyes were warm and smiling, looking right at Stella and telling her, It’s safe.
The words echoed through her head in that Southern drawl, the one that had calmed her down, made her believe everything really would be okay. Nate had sat downstairs looking at her with those gorgeous eyes, reassuring her with that liquid-chocolate voice, and Stella had wanted to melt into his arms.
Stella stared down at that face, feeling warmth flush through her, and thought, oh no.
Men had always been Stella’s besetting sin. She met a new man, and suddenly a world of possibilities seemed to spiral outward—what they could do together, where they could go, the fun they could have.
This felt different, though. Usually, she knew that she was making a mistake, or at least she knew that she was throwing herself into something that could go wrong. Nate didn’t feel like that at all.
But Stella couldn’t let herself make the same mistake she always made. So he was an attractive man. So what.
The most important thing was for him to do his job, protect their family—protect Eva—and he couldn’t do that if Stella was throwing herself at him.
She closed the notebook firmly. Drawing hadn’t helped as much as it usually did, and her thoughts were a swirling mess, but she was going to stick to her new life resolution and use some willpower instead of just letting herself drift. It was time to go to sleep so that she could get up and go to work tomorrow, so that she could make money, so that Eva could go to college.
Stella got up and turned off the light with firm resolve. She lay down, and waited for sleep.
But willpower only went so far, and it wasn’t long before she knew she was in for a night of listening to the sounds of the house and waiting for morning to come.
***
Nate
Nate woke with the sun.
He’d slept lightly, cataloging unfamiliar sounds, slowly becoming used to the way the house settled and the noises of the forest outside. A few more nights here, and he’d be able to sleep soundly through any normal sounds, but wake instantly if something was out of place.
He’d heard someone creeping down the stairs, an hour or more ago. He’d marked it, but hadn’t considered it to be a threat, since there hadn’t been any evidence of someone coming in from outside. Besides, the footsteps were too light to be a man’s.
Now, he got up and went into the kitchen, following the smell of coffee. Sitting at the counter, cradling a mug in her hands, was Stella.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Morning.” Nate came into the kitchen. “Is that coffee for everyone?”
“Help yourself,” she said. “Although Ken’s led me to believe that Marines don’t need a weakness like caffeine addiction.”
“Ken’s right,” Nate said ruefully. “But I’ve gotten too used to it being available everywhere.” He followed Stella’s gaze to the cabinet with the mugs, and picked the one with a picture of Montana on it.
He settled into the stool next to Stella. “So listen. I don’t want my presence to be any hindrance for you. You can just go about your day as normal, and I’ll come with you, and assess any issues that might arise. If it seems like anything’s a particular problem, we can talk about whether it might be a better idea for you to change any of your routines, but for now, nothing should be different.”
Stella took a long drink of coffee. She looked tired, Nate thought. Had she slept badly because she was worried about what Todd might do? Because there was a strange man sleeping in her house? Or did she just get insomnia sometimes?
It was probably none of his business, even if he wanted to ask her about it. He could frame it as a security question. Sleepless people made poor decisions, reacted differently to threats, right?
Quit it, he told himself firmly. There was a fine line between gathering intelligence he needed to do his job, and prying into people’s affairs just to satisfy his own curiosity. Stella didn’t need him sticking his nose into her private business, not when she already had one man who wouldn’t leave her alone.