helping me carry in more of the things I’d set aside in the shed.
During the evening that followed and yet again today, the entire kitchen morphed into his own personal lab of sorts.
With meticulous care, he washed, dried and at times, repaired items I couldn’t get to or didn’t know how to fix, while I worked on drafting the best spots to display them. We barely stopped for lunch between talking and consulting each other on displaying the antiques.
Later, I make the latest of several trips to the cabin to check on Dad.
He’s finally awake. I’m not sure he even realizes he’s been out for the better part of a whole day.
“Don’t know why I’m so tired,” he says, lying back down in the bed after taking another big dose of medicine.
“Because you’re sick. Your body’s worn down, and you’ve been lacking sleep for months. The sandman’s a hell of a healer,” I say, repeating Ridge’s words from this morning.
“Come again?” His face jerks up.
“Uh, nothing.” My face heats. “Just a funny phrase I heard.”
“Well, whatever they put in that stuff helped the coughing. And the pain in my chest,” Dad tells me, rubbing at a drowsy eye before flopping back on the pillow with a heavy sigh.
“I’m glad something did.”
Words will never be enough to express how grateful I am.
“I’m still weak, but I bet by tomorrow...yeah, I’ll be ready to pack up and hit the road. Let me know what you find on the Google Maps, will you?”
Oh, no.
Without answering, I lean down, kissing his forehead.
“It’s nice of you to get more of that decorating done, too,” he says drowsily. “Maybe we’ll see this place in a few months, whenever we come back for Rosie and Stern.”
I wait until he falls asleep again, and then tiptoe out of the cabin.
Walking toward the house, I see Ridge now on the roof of the barn. I try to pull my eyes away but can’t.
He’s been working outside all day, putting up cameras and sensors with that other guy, Drake...
He’s been at it for hours.
Going through so much trouble, for me.
The nicest, most handsome, sexiest man alive—hardly an exaggeration considering who he is—and I’ve got him working his butt off trying to save mine.
I don’t know how this ends, but by the time I turn around, flicking my eyes away from Ridge’s silhouette on the barn, I’m determined.
I’m so not letting him put that brutally gorgeous butt of his in harm’s way.
Not if I can stop it first.
10
No Comfort (Ridge)
A smug grin tugs at my lips.
So far, I like what I’m seeing, clicking through the software that shows the locations of the cameras I’d set up today and testing each one. The program matches the app on my phone, but there’s something about testing everything behind a desk that makes me feel like a better watchdog.
Still, no point in getting too cocky.
Before totally accepting these damn-I’m-good accolades, I pick up my phone, open the app, and check to make sure every single camera works via phone, too.
Everything looks flawless.
Thank fuck for Drake.
It’d have taken me twice as long without his help, but I can’t deny the sense of accomplishment that comes with climbing around on roofs all day, meticulously wiring everything in, all for that little blonde stray of mine.
Nothing’s going to hurt her here.
I’ll turn this place into a fortress of doom before I let Jackknife and the rest of his clowns catch me with my pants down, or snatch Grace and her old man from right under my nose.
No need for a workout today, either. I got plenty of that doing installation on the house, cabin, storage shed, and barn.
That last one was dicey. The roof was still slippery from melting ice and steep angles unfit for a bird.
My calves are still stinging with a satisfied burn.
I’m damn glad Drake loaned me the climbing rope so I could tie myself off. It kept me from falling off the roof and snapping my neck.
I’m thankful for everything he brought over, really. I’d noticed all the cameras at his place last fall, the first time he invited me over for a beer.
“Old habits,” he said, and I knew exactly what that meant.
He’d kept their whole place wired up ever since the trouble with Jupiter Oil, a rival pack of dirty, backstabbing oilmen.
Nothing dangerous has come to Drake and Bella’s doorstep since then, but I’d be the last person to blame a man for being too careful.