Blackstone Ranger Guardian - Alicia Montgomery Page 0,57

cleaning crew had come in. And how relieved she’d been when Angela mentioned they only worked on the other rooms.

She didn’t want them to see. Didn’t want Angela to see what was in there.

I’m an idiot.

He said he was going to fix her, but the job was far from done. How could it be, when that one thing about her, the part that was most important to her—her talent and creativity—was still broken?

Well, he’d come this far, so he wasn’t going to stop now. He just needed to push her in the right direction again. And he had an idea just how to do that.

Chapter Fourteen

Dutchy couldn’t believe this was her house. She peeked into the kitchen and saw all the trash and takeout containers were gone and the dishes put away. It even smelled clean in here. Thank you, Aunt Angela. But then, it was just like her to do something like this.

While she’d been hesitant at her aunt’s blooming romance with Tim Grimes—and mildly horrified considering how she found out—Angela had assured her she was happy. “I know you think it’s going fast, darling, but at my age, you can’t waste any more time,” she had said with a laugh. “And sometimes, when you know, you just know.” Her words, plus the obvious adoration in the polar bear shifter’s eyes when he looked at her aunt, made Dutchy feel relieved. It was going to be interesting to see this play out.

Indeed, it had been a wonderful evening. At least it was. Until she was reminded again of her current situation.

She clutched at the twinge in her chest. It wasn’t like she could forget about her visual impairment. But these past few months, she had gotten used to it. And when she was with Krieger, she could almost forget it was an issue. He made her feel like everything was right and perfect. Sure, her vixen still acted pissy around him, but for the most part, it stayed quiet and didn’t hurt her anymore. Maybe things would get better from now on, and her fox just needed time.

Heading into the bedroom, she walked over to her closet. All her clothes had been washed and folded neatly inside. Grabbing a pair of pajamas, she headed into the bathroom. Hot shower, finally.

Heavy footsteps from behind made her pause. Her fox, as always, chuffed distastefully at Krieger’s presence, but she ignored it, as she did the crushing disappointment at her ineptitude. Turning her head, she grinned at him. “I’ll need some help soaping up. Wanna join me?”

The heat in his eyes was unmistakable, and from then on and for the rest of the night, they didn’t talk about what happened during dinner.

The next morning, she woke up alone in bed. Huh. The trace scents on the pillow and sheets told her Krieger hadn’t been gone long, though. There were no sounds in the bathroom, so where could he be?

Hauling herself out of bed, she put her robe on and padded out to the kitchen. The coffee maker was full, but no sign of Krieger. Did he get breakfast? He wasn’t in the living room either, and his truck was still outside. Where—

Her enhanced hearing picked up some shuffling sounds. And when she realized where they came from, she paused.

Spinning around, she headed for her office. Despite the bile churning in her stomach, she made herself go in there. Sure enough, Krieger was in there, pinning up her sketches to the wall. The outfits she had ripped off the dress forms had been placed back on them, and seeing them made blood drain from her face. “W-what are you doing?”

He swung his head toward her, his expression turning sheepish. “Didn’t think you’d wake up so early. Wanted to surprise you.”

Her fingers curled into her palms. Despite her throat closing up, she managed to speak. “S-s-surprise?”

“Yeah.” He finished pinning up the drawing behind the second dress form. “Angela didn’t get to clean up in here and—”

“How dare you!” Anger rose in her as her fox hissed and snarled at him. “This is a total invasion of my privacy.” Pain stabbed at her being in this room for the first time in months. And her dresses and the sketches she never wanted to see again were now displayed, mocking her with their mere presence.

“Dutchy?” He gaped at her. “What’s the matter?”

“What’s the matter?” She stomped into the room, rage and hurt fueling her. “I didn’t tell you to do … this!” Glancing around, she saw