while I was away from him and he wouldn’t be there to protect me.
I wished he were here. The man wouldn’t dare approach if Erik had been with me.
Those cold, green eyes seemed to harbor rage, hate, and passion in a volatile mixture. But I didn’t understand how it could be for me. I’d never seen this man before. At least not that I could remember. And even if he’d been someone I once knew, what could I have done to cause him to look at me in such a way?
“How are you here?” he asked.
His breath smelled acrid, like he hadn’t brushed his teeth in weeks. I pulled against his grip, eager to get away.
“Please,” I said. “Just let me go.”
“Damn it, Sandra!” He shook me. “Don’t play games with me!”
My teeth rattled together from the force, and I tried to pull away again. “Stop!”
“Hey!” An unfamiliar voice said. “Let her go.”
The man released me, and I stumbled back, rubbing my arm. His fingers left a red shadow on my arm, and judging from the dull ache, it would probably bruise later.
The unknown man, tall and broad shouldered, stepped slightly in front of me, partially obscuring me from the aggressor.
“You need to take a step back.” He had a southern lilt to his words.
Something like a growl of annoyance came from the aggressor. The sound of it sent a cold spike straight through my spine. I shivered, closing my eyes as if it might make him disappear. But even with my eyes closed, the sharp nose and angular jaw of his broad face were prevalent in my mind.
I opened my eyes.
The aggressor held up his hands. “Sorry. Thought she was someone else.”
“Well, since she’s not someone else, you best be on your way,” the Southern man said.
After a moment of hesitation, the aggressor stalked down the aisle, pivoting on his heel as he turned the corner and disappeared.
A breath rushed from my chest. My lungs ached with the release. I gripped the edge of the cart, my knees trembling with exertion to hold me upright.
“Whoa!” The Southern man gripped my elbow.
Where the aggressor's touch had been violent, this man’s touch was gentle, but firm enough to keep me from falling over.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” he asked.
My hip throbbed where it banged into the cold metal cart. The skin on my arm would most definitely bruise. Something I would have to explain to Erik.
I nodded. Considering everything, it could have been much worse. That horrible man could have dragged me out of the store. Instead, a handsome southern gentleman stepped in and saved the day. The fear receded, leaving me weak in its wake.
“Yes… just a bit shaken, I guess?”
Admittedly, shaken seemed to be a mild description. When Erik warned me of the dangers, it always made the world seem like a cold, horrifying place. He scheduled everything. Even his birthday. He didn’t like surprises. Said there were too many dangerous variables. Until this moment, I hadn’t thought he might be right.
“That’s common after a situation like this.” The Southern man slowly pulled his hand away.
When I didn’t fall over, he bent down and picked up the box of crackers.
“Situation like this?”
I pulled the cart away from the shelves, catching a can of tuna as it fell.
“Nice reflexes.” He smirked at me.
My trembling hand seemed foreign. Like someone else had reached out. I’d barely even seen the can and yet caught it with no problem.
“I guess...” I put the tuna back.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.
Concern blazed in his brown eyes. My heart skipped a beat, as if I just registered his closeness.
Goosebumps rippled across my arms. Something fluttered in my belly, and it startled me to realize that I found this man with his dark brown eyes and chestnut hair stunningly attractive.
Something inside me twinged with guilt. No man should compare to my Erik. No man should even be on my radar.
It’s just because of the situation.
I kept telling myself that. Yet, this man somehow made my mouth go dry with need.
The ache in my chest blossomed again, and I sucked in a breath.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He stepped closer, hands spread out as if ready to catch me.
The pain receded, and I cleared my throat. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
His brows pressed together as he pulled a black leather wallet from his back pocket. “My name is Cooper Walsh.” He opened the wallet and pulled a card from it. “I’m a psychiatrist. If you find yourself needing to talk,