Expired Cache - Lisa Phillips Page 0,70

of place. He said, “A couple years back, a day before Christmas Eve, I get this call. An elderly lady had hurt herself, and she didn’t want to bother the police or EMTs. When I got there, I discovered she’d tried to take a heavy box of decorations down from a closet shelf. She’d lost her husband a few months before and this was her first Christmas without him. He’d always gotten the decorations down for her.”

“Was it bad?”

“A few bruises. I called the guys.” He waved a hand toward the photo. He was treading carefully, trying not to upset her. She felt like she was on a knife edge. But despite years of trying to forget what had happened to her, it was back at the forefront.

She said, “Echo Team?”

Dean continued, “They came over, hauled out the Christmas tree and set it all up. All the decorations. They even hung lights on the front of her house.”

She wanted to smile, but it wasn’t there. When she tried to speak, the last words she thought she’d have said emerged. “He touched me.”

Dean’s gaze lowered to her neck.

“There was a group of them. It was a party, and I didn’t even want to go in the first place, but it was Homecoming night and my friend dragged me.” She thought of her former best friend, and how she hadn’t spoken to her since. Nor had she had a best friend since. “They…herded me into a bedroom and—”

“Who?” He frowned. “When did this happen?”

“Junior year.” She took a breath. “It was Ed Summers and a bunch of his friends.”

Thunder rumbled across his expression. “They touched you?”

Ellie closed her eyes and nodded. “When that guy grabbed me from the yard, Jess didn’t even notice.” Her breath hitched. She didn’t blame her sister—not the way she blamed her friend. “I saw his face.” Her stomach clenched painfully. “Then I blinked, and it wasn’t him. It was…”

“Ed Summers.” Dean squeezed her hand. “Did he do more than touch you?”

Ellie shook her head. “The cops raided the party. I shoved at one of them, and he shoved back. I hit my head on a shelf.” She lifted her fingers and massaged the spot on the back of her head. “The doctor had to staple it back together.”

Dean hung his head.

“My grandfather found me bleeding and crying.”

When he lifted his gaze, he held his arms open. Ellie walked into his hug. Why did she feel so safe with him? “Thank you.”

His chest rumbled. “If he wasn’t dead…”

“I know.” She looked up at him. “Like I said. Thanks.”

Ellie had never had a defender before. Her grandfather had been upset. He’d felt powerless to help since he hadn’t gotten there fast enough to prevent it. Dean felt just as deeply and was just as protective as her grandfather. But his strength was obvious, even when he had been hurt himself. It didn’t change who, and what, he was.

Dean lowered his head and touched his lips to hers. A soft kiss of comfort and compassion. He didn’t pressure her, just kept it light. Sweet.

Until the doorbell rang.

Twenty-Seven

Dean looked back just before he opened the door. Ellie had turned away, though, denying him a glance at her face. After that kiss, as light and short as it was, he felt the flush on his own cheeks. It had been a while since he was attracted to anyone. He’d about given up on the idea of finding someone before he could prove he was the man everyone thought he was.

It turned out he just needed to wait for her to cross his path…in the process of her nearly being struck by a car.

Things weren’t perfect, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity. Ellie was everything he wanted in a woman. And he wanted the chance to help her through her pain, to support her. Protect her. He’d thought that would turn him off. That he wouldn’t want to feel like he was “working” with someone in a relationship. But with her, he was glad to do it.

The doorbell rang again, followed by a knock on the door. He didn’t think he’d ever actually heard the bell ring before. It wasn’t like people just stopped by here.

He hauled it open. On the porch, Doctor Gilane took half a step back.

Dean said, “Help you?”

Beyond the doctor was the yard, then the doctor’s brand new BMW sport utility vehicle. Past that, Last Chance sprawled out in front of him, at the bottom of