Page 29 of Her Remarkable Protector
She moves with ease, one hand steadying my arm while the other hovers protectively near Laramie.
“Nice and easy,” she murmurs, syncing her steps with mine. Somehow, she maneuvers me onto the mattress without disturbing Laramie, who nurses peacefully, oblivious to the shift.
Honestly, I didn’t even register being on my feet until I feel the bed beneath me. A smile warms my face—must be the baby magic, guiding me with a mother’s instinct straight to my little one.
The nurse reaches for the bed controls, raising the headrest to a comfortable angle. “There we go,” she says, smoothing the blanket over my legs. “Much better for sitting up.”
She then coos at Laramie, her eyes softening as she takes in her tiny features. “What a beautiful little girl,” she murmurs, inspecting her with the awe of someone who does this daily but still finds wonder in every newborn.
“You’re doing great,” she assures me, her tone kind and encouraging. “Feeding like this is the best start you can give her.”
She hovers for a moment, checking my vitals and noting something down on her chart before focusing back on Laramie. “There’s a man outside, guarding this room. He’s your bodyguard, isn’t he?”
Bodyguard?The word feels as out of place in the maternity ward as a combat helmet at a baby shower. But I answer anyway, “Yes, he is.”
“Good. My supervisor was planning to confirm it with you, but I’ll let her know you’ve already told me,” she says, a touch of amusement in her voice. “He seems to take his duty very seriously.”
I glance at the closed door, picturing Chase still standing there. “It’s his job,” I say simply, though the words feel incomplete.
But they’ll have to do. No one else needs to know how tangled this has become. In fact, no one does. Not even him. Chase Samson—a killer, a savior, or simply a bodyguard, whatever he truly is. He was the first person to show me what safety feels like when my world imploded. When everything I thought I knew crumbled, he was there. The eye of the storm, yes, but also the one constant that told me I wouldn’t be hurt—not while he was there. That feeling hasn’t left me since. And today, he’s proven it all over again.
I hate that it’s him. I hate it because I can’t imagine anyone else standing guard on the other side of that door. And more than that—I don’t want it to be anyone else.
The nurse observes Laramie, unaware of the thoughts in my head. “When you feel her sucking more slowly, pausing frequently, or stopping altogether, that usually means she’s full,” she explains with a patient smile.
I nod, storing the information away.
“Would you like us to call anyone for you?” she asks gently, though her tone carries a trace of curiosity. A single mother with only a bodyguard present during childbirth isn’t exactly routine.
“No,” I reply quickly, hoping to shut that door before it swings open.
“Okay. As long as you’re sure,” she says. Her tone remains kind, but there’s just enough weight in her words to make me wonder what’s running through her head.
When Laramie finishes feeding, the nurse steps in. She swathes Laramie in the hospital’s blanket, folding and tucking with the kind of precision that makes the whole thing look effortless.
“Now that’s something you’ll need to teach me,” I say, eyeing how snug and perfect the blanket is around Laramie.
“Happy to!” she chirps. She places Laramie back in the cot, her eyes fluttering closed, her face serene as she drifts off.
“Do you always provide rooms like this?” I ask, my gaze drifting to the cot, and then the enormous bouquet at the side table.
The nurse steps toward the window, her hands brushing the curtain. “May I?”
“Go ahead.”
She draws them open, sunlight spilling into the room, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “This is the biggest room we have, the one closest to all services. Your bodyguard requested it—and let’s just say he has a way of getting what he wants.”
Of course, he did. Chase Samson always seems to find a way to get things done, whether it’s kicking down doors or arranging for a room like this. It should make me feel annoyed—this isn’t helping my attempt to keep that man at bay—but instead, a strange warmth sneaks in, settling in the space he occupies in my mind.
“If there’s nothing else, I’ll let you have some quiet time,” the nurse says, lingering at the door.
“Thank you, nurse.”
But as the door begins to open, my breath catches seeing Chase. Reminding how close the man I’ve been trying to shoo away in my head is. Has he even moved? I mean, I want him close for my and Laramie’s safety, but not to my mind, my heart, and my everything else!
But—
Before I can overthink it, I call out, “Wait.”
