Summer Time Sweets by Alexa Riley

Chapter 2

Orlando

Ipull her little body close. My heart is still pounding when it shouldn't be. I’m more than fit. I can run for miles without getting winded. But right now, I can’t get my racing heart to slow. When I hit my porch, Marta throws open the door and looks at me with wide eyes.

“Sir?” she asks. Her eyes go to the small girl in my hands.

“Call Doc and get your husband to get that car out of my gate. Put it in the garage for now,” I tell her as I head up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I don’t know why, but I head straight for my bedroom. I kick the door open and head for the bed, laying her down on it. I pull the flag away from her. I’d shielded her body with it, protected her from the elements.

I’d been rushing outside to take the flag down when the rain had started to pour. When I got it down I started to run back toward the house. And then I heard the loud crash. I took off towards the sound to see some old antique sports car smacked into the side of the gate. Irritation hit me at first.

How stupid was someone to be driving a car like that in a storm like this? When I landed on the hood of the car after climbing over the gate and saw the young girl inside, protectiveness hit me like a fucking freight train.

I’d somehow managed to push the car over a little, then pried the gates open so I could get back through them without having to climb over. After smashing the window I pulled her from the car.

The sweetest chocolate eyes met mine, but the sight of her blood and the bruise on her cheek have me riding a hard edge I don’t even think I experienced in my days as a Ranger. I look down at the dark-haired angel, not sure what I should do next. My fingers itch to reach out and touch her. I only hold back for a moment before I brush the wet hair out of her face.

“Fuck,” I mumble. Even with the small cut on her forehead and the bruise, it’s easy to see she’s breathtaking. She really does look like a dark-haired angel. The white dress that has molded to her body only makes it truer. I can’t help but notice her nipples are pebbled. My eyes lock there.

I growl and turn away. She’s freaking hurt and I’m ogling her. Is this what happens when you spend years holed up in your home and keep the rest of the world out? The sight of a woman like her sends you into full-blown lust?

No, that can’t be it. While I might keep the rest of the world at bay, I do still have staff that come and go. Some are female, and I’ve never had a reaction like this before. I run my hand down my face and try to get myself together. I need to help her.

I head toward the bathroom and grab some towels and washcloths. I dig through the drawers searching for anything that might help her. When I rush back to her side, Marta is standing at my door.

“Sir?” She’s unsure of what to do, not because of the girl, but because no one is allowed in my bedroom. Not even the staff. I even clean it myself. I don’t care for people being in my personal space. I’d retained that particular quirk when I retired from being a Ranger.

“Enter,” I grit out, pushing past my own bullshit. This isn't about me. It’s about the little bit that has been sent to my doorstep. The one who’s in trouble, and not only from her injuries.

“Please. Don’t let him find me.”

Her soft-spoken words rattle through my mind again. The trace of fear that I’d heard. It was there. This girl is on the run.

“The doc?” I ask.

“He’s on his away,” she tells me, stepping up beside the bed.

“Was he at home when you called?” She nods. Good. That means he's really close then as he only lives down the road from me. “And the car?” I push. If she’s on the run from someone, we need to get her car out of sight. Now.

“He’s already working on moving it.” Thunder cracks, making my girl flinch. My mind freezes at my slip. I already think of her as mine.

For now, she is.

“I’ll start a fire. Will you…” My eyes roam over the girl. “Get her out of the wet clothes. She’ll catch a chill.” Marta nods. I force myself away from the bed and head for my closet to find a shirt for her to put on. When I come back I curse when I see Marta has her dress pushed up to reveal her ribs.

Dark bruises stain her torso. I can tell they aren't from the crash—a clear boot mark shows. “Poor thing,” Marta says, looking over to me. I take a deep breath, trying to cool the rage pounding down on me. Who the fuck would hurt this little thing? I hand Marta the shirt then turn away to start a fire to make sure the room stays warm.

Marta lets me know when she’s done. I turn and walk over towards the bed.

“Wait at the door for Doc.”

“Yes, sir,” Marta answers and rushes from the room. I sit down on the side of the bed and pick up one of the towels to wipe away the blood from her face. The cut isn't as bad as I thought it was. It won’t even need stitches.

Her eyes flutter open. My breath catches as her eyes come to mine. I expect her to scream. My face isn't the prettiest anymore. Scars mark up the left side. They don’t only mark my face. The left side of my body matches.

But she smiles up at me. She reaches a hand up and I have to stop myself from flinching away when she touches the scared side. “Who are you?” she asks.

“You don't remember?” I ask her.

She doesn't answer me. “I’m so sleepy,” she tells me. Her hand drops away from my face and I miss her touch. When was the last time I let someone touch me? The doctors, maybe?

“I think you should stay awake, little one,” I tell her. I watch as she pouts her plump bottom lip.

“But I’m sleepy.” Her eyes start to fall closed again. I reach for her and run my thumb along her jaw towards her lips, wanting to touch that pout. To know if it feels as soft as it looks.

“Sir.” I jerk my hand away. Marta is standing in my doorway again and holding a cell phone. “It’s Doc. There’s been a rock slide. He can’t get here.” I walking over to her and take the phone from her hand.

“John,” I say into the phone. “I need you here.” I can hear the plea in my own voice. I never beg, but there it is.

“O, I’m sorry. It’s not happening.” John sighs into the phone. I know if he’s saying he can’t make it, he really can’t.

“Fuck,” I bark out. Marta’s eyes go wide.

“Tell me what’s happening.” I give John the Cliff Notes including finding the bruise on her side.

“She woke up and talked to you?”

“Yeah, she didn't seem like she was in pain or anything. Even reached out and touched me.”

“And you let her?” he asks.

“John,” I growl, wanting him to stay on topic.

“Get your phone out. I’m texting you a link.” I pull my phone out of my back pocket, knowing this must be going somewhere important. I click the link to download an app as instructed.

“Done.” I tell him.

“I want you to open the app, press the center button while you hold her eyelid up. Let it scan her eyes for three seconds.” I rush back over to the bed, hit speaker on Marta’s phone and set it next to me on the nightstand.

I lift her eyelid and follow John’s instructions. The phones light comes on and dings when it’s done. The screen flashes.

I look at the screen. Patient's status is: Normal

I let out a sigh of relief. “Says normal.”

“Good. Then let her rest,” John says. “Treat the cuts and call me when she wakes. Maybe they’ll have the road cleared by then.” I nod.

“O, you got all that?”

“Yeah, yeah. I can do that,” I tell him. I’m still reveling in the relief I’m feeling that the scan said she was okay.

“Try not to scare her.”

“Fuck you,” I tell him. He laughs, and I end the call. I hand the phone back to Marta.

“I’ve got it from here,” I tell her. She nods and leaves. I shut the door, flip the lock and retake my position on the bed. I pick up her hand and hold it in mine. God, she’s so small. Her hand takes mine and she rolls to the side. She flinches a little at her own movement but moves closer to me, her small hand not letting go of mine.

As I look down at her helpless before me, I know that I will keep my word to her. I will keep her safe from everything.

Except maybe me.