Above Protection (Imperfect Heroes Book 1) (8 page)

Sexy Adam’s apple? What
the hell is my problem?

“What could you possibly need at the
store?” he asked, picking up a piece of bacon.

“Tampons,” I said bluntly.

His bacon was paused at his mouth,
then he dropped it on his plate.

I gained way too much satisfaction
watching the red creep up into his cheeks once it climbed above his
beard. That sexy, sexy beast of a beard.

Wait, what? Damn hormones!

He picked his bacon up, cleared his
throat, and while concentrating on the, apparently, very
interesting bacon in his hand, he murmured, “What, didn’t you bring
any?”

Hiding my smile of satisfaction behind
the coffee cup at my lips, I said, “I did not bring
enough.”

He nodded, shoving the entire piece of
bacon into his mouth, then followed it up with two more pieces.
God, he was such a guy.

So I continued, pointing at the
fridge. “I find it hard to believe they supplied us with enough
food and supplies for 10 days anyway, surely we’d have to go to the
store eventually.”

His eyes lifted to mine. Those
infuriating blues reminded me of the ocean in winter when it was
cold, but the waters were still dark blue, as if they were waiting
for the warmth again to lighten it up. The same storms that stirred
the ocean when it was warm was what I saw brewing in Duke’s eyes.
Nodding slowly, he said, “I don’t think what’s in there will last
nine more days.”

Grinning in triumph, I said, “Great,
what time do we leave to go into town?”

The town of Pembroke was small. So
small, we had to go to the next town over just to find a Walmart.
Satisfied that it would have what I needed, I told Duke he could
wait out in the car, since he was clearly uncomfortable. He didn’t
care for that too much and got red in the face again.

“I can’t protect you from the car. Not
only that, Blondie, waiting in the car makes me a
pussy.”

After pulling me from the car, he’d
grabbed my hand and practically dragged me into the big
store.

I went to pull away from his hand once
we got inside, but he kept it held firm. He not only held it, he
had his fingers interlaced with mine, like couples do. I looked
down at it, then up into his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“We’re just a normal couple, strolling
through fucking Walmart. Just be quiet and roll with it. This is
the best way I can protect you.”

We had just gotten inside the store
and had stopped to grab a shopping basket. I rolled my eyes at him.
“As if anyone will find us here.”

He looked stormy again. Grabbing my
face between his fingers, he said, “Do not ever underestimate
anyone who wants to kill you. I did my best to make sure nobody
followed us but if someone is determined enough, or is getting paid
enough, they can track down anyone they want. Do not question my
motives or why I do what I do.”

He let go of my face and looked away,
his eyes scanning the store.

I swallowed hard and nodded, getting
strangely aroused by what he had just done and said. This guy was a
complete jerk. An alpha male who seemed to want to be in control
and thought he could boss me around. So why was I so suddenly
turned on? Infuriated with myself, I turned my face away from his
and, with his hand still interlaced with mine, led him to the area
of the store I knew I’d find what I was looking for.

I’d do anything to buy some extra time
to not have to go back to that house so soon. There was nothing to
do but watch TV and read, and being that there was no cable, books
had become my best friend. Which reminded me, I had to pick up some
more paperbacks.

Duke pulling his hand away from mine
bolted me out of my thoughts. I looked up at him in
question.

“Imma go get some soap and shit,” he
said, pointing to the next aisle over. “Scream if you see anything
strange.”

Scream?

“Uhh, okay,” I said.

I found what I’d been looking for and
plucked the box from the shelf. I went in search of my Knight in
Shining Anger.

“
What. The. Actual. Fuck?”
I heard him say.

My eyes got big. “What?”

He pointed. “What is anal bleach and
why would you need it? I need some damn bleach for my eyes now.
Never gonna be able to unsee that graphic on the box.”

I giggled and asked, “Do you really
wanna know?”

“No.” Grasping my free hand, he led me
to the shampoo aisle, found what he needed, and headed toward the
grocery section.

“Wait. I need a couple more books. Can
we get them before we get the food?”

He huffed, barely looking at me before
scanning the store again with his eyes. “Woman, you brought like 10
books with you. You read them all already?”

“No, I brought 5. I have like 200 of
them on my e-reader, but you wouldn’t let me bring that, so I need
to get some good, old-fashioned books.”

“Fine.”

With his hand still intertwined with
mine, which I was liking way too much, I led him toward the
books.

He shifted uncomfortably as I looked
through the selection, his eyes scanning the store, the crook of
his elbow always firmly rested against the handgun he wore in a
holster under his jacket. Even though deep in my mind I knew he was
just doing his job, a part of me felt a little soft toward him. He
was protecting me, potentially could give his life for me if he had
to, and I don’t think anyone could be ungrateful for
that.

Sneaking a sideways glance at him, I
could see why he did what he did. He was pretty tall, I’d say over
six feet. He had a rugged beard that normally I wouldn’t find
attractive, but it was cut pretty close and not hanging down his
face like some crumb-catching mess. He had strong, wild eyes that
if you paid close enough attention, you would catch an occasional
look of compassion and warmth. It was fleeting, but still,
sometimes it was there. His body was hard and fit, and I bet I
could bounce a quarter off his ass – if he’d let me.

I grinned at the visual.

He turned his head toward me and I
quickly looked back at the books, plucking up the first one in
front of me. I grabbed a few more, and satisfied I had enough books
(about ten), I threw the last one into the basket.

“You good?” he asked, pointing at the
shopping cart, pulling a can of chew from his back pocket. I
watched as he grabbed a pinch and fingered it into his bottom lip.
He replaced the cap and shoved it into his back pocket.

I suppressed the urge to make a face.
“Yes, don’t you want to get anything?”

He pointed in the cart. “I already got
some magazines.”

I looked down. I hadn’t
even seen him get any.
Guns &
Ammo
,
Men’s
Fitness
, and of course,
Maxim
.

I simply nodded once, and then we went
over to the grocery aisles, where I didn’t protest anything he
bought. I did, however, toss a few chocolate bars and a bottle of
wine into the cart.

He looked at me skeptically and took
the wine out. “Absolutely not.”

I sighed. “Just one bottle,
please?”

“No. Alcohol reduces inhibitions and
delays reflexes and responses. We cannot afford any
slip-ups.”

My lips twitched in amusement. “You
read that in a textbook? Because you certainly haven’t ever had any
alcohol, have you, Cowboy?”

I could tell my nickname annoyed him,
but I would keep calling him that until he stopped calling me
“Blondie.”

We headed toward the check-stand and
as we reached it, he began loading our items on the belt. I saw him
pick up a small packet from one of the items near the check-out,
and held it up. To my mortification, it was a packet of
“Midol.”

“For your bitchiness,” he growled,
tossing it in the cart. Then he grabbed two more and threw them on
the belt.

When he had to load my tampons, he
picked up the box like it might bite him, and before I could get
mad at his bitchiness comment, I was laughing at how ridiculous he
was being.

“I can load the belt, if it upsets you
that bad,” I said, goading him some more.

“I can handle it just fine,” he
snapped.

“Oh, okay. Well it looked like you
were having some trouble there, Cowboy.”

He stopped what he was doing, and
looked at me square in the eye. A little bit of excitement
fluttered in my stomach at the eye contact. Then he said, “Ya know,
I’m glad you’re having your monthly whatever. I was wondering on
the ride here if you were always this moody, but I’m glad to see it
was just this.” He pointed to the tampon box.

I stomped a foot. “That’s
rude!”

I saw him grin as if he’d bested me.
That’s it. I’m gonna put salt in his coffee or something
tomorrow.

As the male cashier, who looked no
older than 20, was beeping the items over the scanner, I saw him
shoot Duke a sympathetic glance and that annoyed me. They were both
acting like I was some menstruating girlzilla on a rampage. I
thought I’d been pretty reserved. Assholes, both of
them.

I watched Duke take a wad of cash from
his pocket and pay for the items. Obviously, neither of us could
use our cards, and I was secretly happy the government was paying
for my feminine products, my books, and my damn
chocolate.

After walking to the car in silence,
he loaded our things into the small trunk of the sports car, then
darted his eyes around the parking lot, his hand hovering near his
weapon.

It was mid-afternoon, and I watched
him take the same highway back toward our old, ugly cabin. Deciding
he already clearly disliked me, I figured I had nothing to lose
when I asked, “Can’t we go somewhere else and not back to that
place? It’s already wearing on me.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?” I whined, and instantly
cringed at the sound of my own voice.

He huffed. “This isn’t a vacation, and
that,” he said, jerking a thumb behind us, “was the last time we’ll
be going into town.”

“I know it’s not a vacation.” I
decided I’d try some charm. “You’re doing such a good job
protecting me.” I laid it on thick now, placing my hand on his arm
closest to me. “We could go somewhere like a park or somewhere
public, where I can get some sunshine. Couldn’t we? Can we at least
go get some fast food? I have cash, I can pay for it.”

He looked down at my pale hand on his
tanned arm, and then looked at me briefly before putting his eyes
back on the road. In the fleeting couple of seconds he looked at
me, I could see that warmth I liked. I thought he’d be angry, but
he wasn’t. He did, however, use that same arm to grab his mirrored
sunglasses from the visor of the car, slamming them on his face
with more force than necessary. With a Styrofoam cup still in the
cup holder, he spat a stream into it, and kept his eyes on the
road.

I put my hands back in my lap and
sighed. He never answered my question. He just continued to steer
the car down the highway toward the cabin. I saw him have to pull
out the paper map once, but otherwise, he knew his way. I soon
found myself staring at the old trees that lined the small dirt
road that led to our prison.