Protecting What's Hers (To Love And Defend Book 2) Read online

  Once they were inside the house, her mom closed the door. She looked angrier than Mandy had ever seen her.

  Her father hung up the phone. “I just got off the phone with the police. We’ll have to go down to the station if we want to ensure a werewolf takes our statement.”

  “Statement? What happened?” Mandy asked, afraid of what she’d hear.

  “A man came to our house last night—”

  “Jack Roberson.”

  “Don’t interrupt your father,” her mother said softly, and Mandy had a feeling that statement was out of habit more than anything else.

  “Jack.” Her father spat out the name as if it were poison. “I didn’t know the werewolf’s name. He was a—”

  “Trust me. I know who he is, all about him. The bastard. Did he hurt you? Either of you? Did he threaten you? What happened?” Mandy was so furious she could unleash her wolf and smash the entire house. She would howl loud enough to pierce eardrums. She would level Jack to the ground in a pile of broken bones if she could.

  No matter what happened, she would go to any length to protect what was hers.

  Her father explained what happened, and Mandy blurted out her side of the saga. Her parents wanted her to go with them to the station, but Mandy shook her head.

  “I have to call my police officers to bring them up to date. The two stations should work together on this.”

  “I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone here.” Mandy’s mother hadn’t looked this worried since she’d been diagnosed with cancer. She had been in remission for five years now.

  A knock sounded at the front door, and Clint popped his head in. “I swear I wasn’t eavesdropping, but I did hear your last statement. I’ll stay with Mandy.”

  Mandy covered her mouth to hide her smile. Honestly, she didn’t want to be alone right now, and since Clint did make her feel comfortable, why not? It did strike her as odd that she trusted Clint immediately like this. The only other male werewolf she had like this had been Brent.

  Her stomach twisted. She didn’t like comparing the two of them, but they bother made her happy in different ways. Mandy just didn’t understand why Clint made her happy. It almost freaked her out. At least her parents knew and approved of him. Clearly, they did. That only reinforced her desire to befriend the werewolf.

  “Clint, you don’t have to do that,” her mom protested.

  “I offered to be your bodyguard.” He shrugged.

  He’d been working hard, and his shirt clung to him because of his sweat. Mandy found herself staring and forced herself to look away. How could she be checking him out now? It felt wrong on two fronts, one because the timing was terrible and two because of Brent.

  “David, she may be safe here,” her mom said.

  “How can you think that?” her father all but growled.

  She pointed toward the security cameras.

  Mandy smiled at her father’s embarrassment.

  He sheepishly shrugged before turning toward Clint. “If anything happens to her…”

  “Nothing will. I promise.”

  “Like I’m not capable of taking care of myself.” Mandy crossed her arms and glowered at her father. “I’m not a child.”

  “No one is saying you are one.” Her mom patted her cheek. “We just want you to be safe.”

  “I could say the same about you,” she murmured.

  “Which is why we’re going to the station.” Her mom now yanked on her husband’s arm instead of her daughter’s.

  “I’ll be fine,” Mandy promised. “I’ll call you if I need to.”

  She crossed over to her parents and hugged them before they departed.

  Clint cleared his throat. “I’m going to double check that the cameras are up and running.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  She ducked into the kitchen for a little bit of privacy and called Officer Wright. They had no news for her, but the officer was very interested to hear about the threats to her parents.

  As an afterthought, Mandy added, “Jacob Freeman. My blind date was supposed to be someone named Jacob Freeman. I don’t know if that’s just an alias Jack used, but my friend, the one who set up the blind date in the first place, checked him out. He’s supposed to work at the hospital.”

  “We can look into him.”

  “I would hate for Jack to hurt anyone.”

  “Me too. Don’t worry, Mandy. We’re going to do everything we can from our end here.”

  “But he’s in Hazel Park now.”

  “We’ll contact the authorities there. You said your parents are talking to them now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. All I can say for now is for you to stick with family and friends. Don’t go out unless it’s during the day and in well-lit areas, preferably with crowds.”

  “I’ll be careful. Believe me.”

  They hung up, and she rubbed her face. She could feel the start of a headache. Mandy grabbed a cup from the pantry, filled it with water from the tap, and swallowed down three Advil. The water was cool and refreshing, but it was hard to swallow past the lump in her throat.

  As she placed her cup on the counter, she realized she had to play hostess. Her mom was always pushing food and drink on guests, even the mailman.

  “Clint?” she called as she left the kitchen for the dining room/living room area. “Do you want something to eat or drink?”

  Clint glanced up. He was perched on the edge of the couch, a laptop on the coffee table.

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  “Are you sure? Do you need anything?”

  “Need? No. Want? Yes. I’d like to know a little more about what’s going on. I know it’s not my business, but…”

  Mandy hesitated. “I don’t really know you.”

  “Of course not.” He held up his hands defenselessly. “I don’t want to pry. I’m just concerned. I know your parents. They’re good people.”

  “You’re the one with the snow blower.”

  Clint laughed, the sound deep and full-bodied. Then, a look of pain flashed over his face before quickly disappearing. She knew that look, or, more accurately, she’d made that exact same expression before. Smiling, laughing, talking like everything was normal… All of it could then cause a person to feel a massive weight of guilt drop down on them. How could they smile or enjoy life when a loved one had died?

  She sat beside him and patted his shoulder. “My dad always hated shoveling. He told me since I was four that it would one day be my chore.”

  “I don’t mind. I have it out to do my place. Might as well do theirs too.”

  “Mom told me you do the whole block.”

  Clint shrugged. “It’s good for business. I work in landscaping. Anything I can do to make people happy with me helps. Word of mouth is crucial to small businesses.”

  “Ah. So you aren’t altruistic then,” she teased.

  “Everyone wants something,” he said, growing more serious.

  She cleared her throat. “A man named Jack Roberson seems to be obsessed with me. I guess I upset him the last time we spoke. Why else would he go after my parents?”

  “You live back in Toledo?”

  “Yes. I would’ve thought he did too.” Mandy stared at Clint. His eyes were so dark that she couldn’t see his pupils. It was mesmerizing. She blinked and looked away. “It’s a small world. You’re here. He’s here.”

  “Very small world.” Clint leaned back and crossed his arms. His muscles were impressive. Not that she was staring again. She wasn’t.

  “I don’t know why he wants me,” she murmured, frustrated. “I’m nothing special.”

  “You’re special,” Clint said.

  She rolled her eyes. “You don’t—”

  “Everyone is special. Jack’s just a fucking psychotic form of special.”

  Mandy grinned and almost laughed. “That he is. Are you sure you want to get involved in this? He’s delusional. He might snap. Do you want to risk getting c
aught in the crosshairs?”

  “I do. I don’t mind. I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you force me to.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe not even then.”

  “Great.” She groaned teasingly. “Another stalker.”

  “Not even close. Just someone who wants to keep you safe from your real stalker.”

  She smiled shyly at him. “I’m glad you’re the neighbor Mom told me about.”

  “She never mentioned me by name?”

  “Honestly…” Mandy hoped her cheeks weren’t red and reveal her embarrassment. “She might have…”

  “You don’t listen to your mom?” he teased.

  “Not when she’s clearly trying to hook me up with a random guy.”

  “Hey! I’m not a random guy.”

  She giggled. “Not anymore you aren’t.”

  His lips curled upward in a wide grin that slowly faded. “I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances.”

  Mandy’s brief spark of happiness died. “The cemetery or the stalker. Fun times, right?”

  She hung her head. Queen of the Understatement.

  6

  Clint wished he could bite off his tongue. Mandy had finally seemed like she was getting her mind off of her problems, and what did he do? Open up the can of worms again. Rip off the band aid without any warning. Twist the knife a little deeper.

  “Are you hungry or thirsty?” he asked, desperate to change the subject.

  “I’m fine,” she murmured, staring at the beige carpet.

  Clearly not. Clint had learned a long time ago from his three sisters that if a woman said “fine,” she was anything but.

  “Does that mean hungry and thirsty?” he asked, trying to coax a grin out of her.

  She side-eyed him. “Are you trying to say that you’re hungry? Your stomach going to growl again?”

  “Hey, I’m a growing boy.”

  “You’re not going to grow any taller.”

  He patted his stomach. His shirt hid his six-pack. “Are you trying to tell me I’m only going to grow wider?”

  Mandy’s smile was a bit forced.

  “Do you have any chocolate?” he asked, standing and heading toward the kitchen.

  “I don’t live here anymore. I’m not sure. My mom usually does. Why?” she asked, following him.

  “Why? Are you kidding me? What woman doesn’t want chocolate?”

  “You do realize that’s sexist, don’t you?”

  “Do you not like chocolate?”

  She hesitated. “I do,” she admitted slowly, a slight curl to her lips.

  “Then am I wrong?”

  “Not in this instance. Let’s see. Here are some chocolate bars.”

  “Good.” Clint accepted the bars and put them on the counter. “I need sugar, eggs, flour, and baking powder.”

  “What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously.

  He laughed. “Baking you something. Unless you think your mom will object?”

  “A guy who can cook,” she said.

  “Not cook. Bake. I can heat up soup. Make toast. Throw together sandwiches. That’s about it. I can’t grill hamburgers or hot dogs. I don’t mess around with chicken. I can’t cook. It’s too lonely.”

  “Cooking is lonely?”

  He grimaced. “When you’re cooking for one it is.”

  Mandy winced, and he wished he could swallow his foot.

  “If I were a bag of flour, where would I be?” he muttered, opening a few cabinets before locating the baked goods.

  He set about mixing and measuring, although he didn’t use measuring cups. Mandy watched him, but he could tell that she didn’t think his concoction would turn out. Once he put it in the oven, he patted his hands.

  “Now, we wait,” he said.

  “How long?”

  “Now who’s the eager beaver?” he teased.

  “I have no patience.”

  “Good things come to those who wait.”

  “Maybe being good is overrated,” she shot back.

  Immediately, his mind raced with all kinds of inappropriate ways they could not be good but rather bad. And not in the kitchen but in the bedroom.

  Calm down, boy.

  He cleared his throat. “Milk. Can’t have chocolate without milk.”

  Mandy walked over to the fridge and removed an nearly empty half gallon. “We’ll have to split it.”

  He’d found the cups while searching earlier, and he removed two. Mandy poured basically a few swallows into each.

  They chatted about his work and her childhood here in Hazel Park.

  At one point, Mandy blurted, “Mom never understood why you are single.”

  Clint shrugged. “I had a girl back in college. It was serious, then it wasn’t, then it was again. I thought I knew what love was. I thought I loved her. I didn’t. I doubted I ever did. She clearly never did. I don’t know if she ever cheated on me, but when we were off, she’d jump on top of the next guy. Roxanne.”

  “Sounds like a porn star name.” Mandy’s cheeks flamed with her embarrassment.

  He laughed. “Maybe that should’ve been my first clue,” he joked.

  “Why no one after Roxanne?”

  “I’ve gone on a few dates here and there. Nothing worthwhile. Nothing to write home about.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “I have my business.”

  Mandy glanced away. She seemed a little… He wasn’t quite sure actually. He hoped she didn’t think he was flirting with her, although he did want to flirt with her. Talking to her was easy. On some of those dates, he had struggled to find things to talk about. With Mandy, he was relaxed. Maybe it was because they weren’t on a formal date. Whatever the reason, he enjoyed spending time with her. He enjoyed listening to her. He enjoyed looking at her too. Win-win-win.

  Finally, the oven beeped. The delicious scent of baked chocolate had filled the air for minutes now, and Mandy licked her lips.

  “You have to wait a few minutes,” he chided.

  “It’s all right if it falls apart. It’ll still taste good.”

  “Ah, so you have confidence in my cooking now?” He laughed.

  “I have confidence in chocolate,” she said. She retrieved two small plates, forks, and a knife. When she went to cut it, he gently tapped her hand.

  “Not yet.”

  She gaped at him and then tilted her head to the side. “Perfectionist, huh?”

  He flushed, embarrassed. “You have to be in order to be a businessman and especially with landscaping. Besides, I don’t want to burn that pretty little mouth of yours.”

  Damn. Did that sound creepy? He hadn’t meant to sound creepy.

  Mandy’s cheeks turned a beautiful shade of pink.

  Once five minutes passed, Clint cut into the brownies. He served himself the first piece, since it did crumble a little, but hers turned out perfectly. He held up his plate but watched and waited as she took her first bite.

  “Well?” he demanded.

  “Not bad,” she said.

  “Not bad?” He grimaced. He knew that not using cocoa powder would be a risk, but he’d made brownies this way before, and they’d turned out great.

  Mandy took another bite, closed her eyes, and sighed.

  “Not bad,” he retorted. “You mean ‘absolutely delicious but I don’t want to say that.’”

  Mandy laughed. “Nope. They’re terrible. You shouldn’t eat a single bite. My parents can’t either.”

  “You want the entire tray for yourself. You have no patience, and you’re selfish.”

  “You’re egotistical, and you’re terrible.”

  He stared down at her. When had they started to stand so close together? His fingers itched to brush the crumb from her lips, but he refrained. He wasn’t sure how she would take that.

  Once she finished her piece, Mandy put her plate on the counter. He’d already finished his, and now, he took a drink from his milk. Mandy did likewise.

  “You have a
mustache.” Mandy grinned and wiped his away.

  A shot went straight to his groin from her touch, and he grew hard instantly. He swallowed back his desire to pull her close.

  “So do you,” he said, his voice turning huskier. His fingers brushed against her lips, and then he moved in for a long, deep kiss.

  7

  Clint was kissing her. And she was kissing back.

  Shouldn’t she be freaking out? She should be. Yes, definitely should be.

  But she wasn’t. If anything, she was clinging to him.

  It was stupid. Terrible. Wrong. Mandy didn’t know Clint. She wasn’t over Brent. And that wasn’t even mentioning everything with the creep Jack.

  Her lips moved against his, and his tongue pressed along hers. She opened, accepting his tongue.

  That was when she freaked out. Because she was kissing another man other than her husband, and she liked it. She was upset that she wasn’t upset about the kiss.

  Confused and dismayed, she placed a hand on his chest and stepped back.

  “Thank you for the brownies,” she murmured, staring at his chest instead of up at his eyes.

  Her lips tingled from his kiss, and she missed the warmth from his body when she’d been pressed against him. Damn, did he feel strong. Damn, did she feel safe in his arms. Damn, damn, damn.

  “Anything for you,” he murmured back.

  He was still holding onto her arm and her hip, and she slid back another step.

  “Anything?” she asked, suddenly eager as an idea came to her.

  Clint narrowed his eyes. “Anything within reason.”

  “Oh, this is reasonable. Even my parents can’t complain because I have a bodyguard with me.” She rushed out of the kitchen and retrieved her purse from beside the laptop on the coffee table.

  “Where are we going?” Clint asked, following her.

  “Just a drive around town. We’re going to try to find him. Maybe he lives around here. He had to know I would return to my hometown after he threatened my parents.”

  Clint frowned. “I thought you came here before you realized that.”