Something hot. Something dangerous.
Because the woman she’d become… fuck! She was still beautiful. Not the sweet, sunshine kind of beauty she’d once had. This kind of beauty had been forged in fire and bad decisions and survival. And God help him, he was drawn to it, drawn to her. He wasn’t the only one in town who’d changed. Not by a long shot.
The pull in his chest—the need to protect her, to fix what he’d broken—was still there, stronger than ever. Whether she was an all-American sweetheart or a goth-girl hellcat, she was his. And there was no spot in the universe where they didn’t belong together.
He climbed onto his bike and started the engine. The low rumble vibrated through the steering wheel beneath his hands. Plan B was already in motion. He and his brothers would keep digging.
He’d find out who thought they could come after his Little girl and get away with it. Jaxon shifted his bike into gear, eyes still on the road where her Mini Coop had vanished.
He would keep her safe. Even if she hated him. Even if she never spoke another word to him. Even if it cost him everything, he would be standing between her and whoever would even think about doing her harm.
His inner Daddy might be rusty, but he wasn’t dead. He’d already lost her once. He wasn’t letting anyone take his Little girl away from him again.
CHAPTER THREE
Tazzy sat cross-legged on her tiny kitchen floor with Lord Nightwing, her bat stuffie. She glared down at the pile of bills that had somehow doubled overnight. Late notices, utility bills, and a past-due notice from the bank threatening to repossess her house. Oh my God, these bills must be reproducing.
Her OPI Inky Onyx nails tapped against the paper.
Click, click, click, click, click.
The sharp clicks echoed her mood, which she rated as somewhere between irritated and feral. As the universe was trying to take everything from her, her feelings were completely justified. Finally, she decided she didn’t need anyone.
Click, click, click.
Worse yet, the bill from Winnie for the incredible job she did on her Mini Coop was overdue. Only Winnie could have gotten rid of that ridiculous Minnie Mouse paint job. Like anyone in the real world had a Disney princess life. Fairytales were for girls who didn’t know better. Tazzy had learned the hard way that happily-ever-after was as imaginary as Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd.
She groaned, running her hand through her hair, and muttered toherself, “Yeah… I definitely need a roommate. One with a fatter checkbook than mine.”
Or a sugar daddy... or a miracle. Preferably not one who came with emotional baggage and a criminal record, who she already knew too well, and who would turn on her at the first sign of trouble.
Her apartment smelled faintly of brewed coffee and rain still lingering in the corners from yesterday’s downpour. She had half a mind to open the windows and doors and just let the mountain air blow her problems away.
But the bills, those stupid, unrelenting bills, kept her anchored in place. She now understood how butterflies must feel when they were caught and pinned down. Trapped, pinned down, unable to move or do anything about it. Yeah, the same way she felt. Her cage was prettier, but that was the only difference.
She didn’t even notice the knock at the door at first. It was only when the door creaked open that she blinked.
“What the hell—?” she started, jumping up and bumping into one of her ladder-back kitchen chairs, knocking it over. Graceful as ever.
No way. She could be seeing who she thought she was seeing.
No way was Jaxon Ruick standing inside her doorway.
But he was.
Standing in her doorway, bold as brass, his tattooed forearms peeking out from the rolled-up sleeves of a well-worn button-down. His blue eyes, once soft and inviting, now carried a glint of steel. They gleamed sharp and piercing, with a darker edge that made her stomach flip.
Her heart thumped against her ribcage with a mix of panic and something else she would absolutely not think about. She had reconstructed herself brick by black-painted brick, and he did not get to just come back in and torch it.
“Who the heck do you think you are, to just open my door like that?” she asked, hands fisted at her hips.
“I’m your new roommate,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
And there it was. That same unshakable confidence he’d alwayshad, like the world and everyone else would just bow to his will instead of the other way around.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m your new roommate.” Without waiting for an invitation, he strode right past her and into the kitchen. Of course, he didn’t wait to be invited. Nope, he walked in like he owned the place. Like he owned her. Well, he was in for a revelation.