Page 31 of Her Remarkable Protector
I nod, gratitude welling up. “Thank you.”
Chase shifts, almost like my words unsettle him. “You don’t have to thank me, Hon—” He stops, correcting himself quickly, “—Ms. Deveraux.”
“Honor is fine,” I say, arching a brow, teasing him silently for the slip.
His sideways smile is reluctant, tinged with self-annoyance. “Honor. It’s... it’s just the right thing to do.”
The room settles into stillness, but my thoughts refuse to follow. “Did that bastard ever try to take my baby?” My eyes drift to Laramie, peacefully sleeping. “I mean her dad.”
Saying out loud that Damon Stone is Laramie’s dad feels wrong. He fathered her, but it doesn’t mean that he’s her father. The distinction is absolute. I’ve vowed to keep that man as far as possible from my baby, and I’ll never waver on that.
“No.” Chase hesitates, his jaw tightening before he amends, “Actually, yes.”
I hold my breath, a dull ache flaring. Whatever happened while I was asleep, I didn’t sense anything was amiss when I woke up.
“Not Stone himself—one of his lackeys,” he adds.
“Of course. Damon wouldn’t dirty his hands,” I mutter. I’ve always known he’d try to claim my baby; it’s just a matter of when. Now, here we are. “And you stood up for me?”
“Something like that.” Chase’s response is short, but there’s more behind those three words than he’s letting on. “He thought he was looking for a baby boy.”
I scoff, lifting my eyes to meet his. “I told Damon what he wanted to hear so he’d leave me alone. He wanted to name the baby after himself. Well, he can go straight to hell!”
“He won’t get near your baby. And he won’t get near you. I swear.”
The steadiness in his voice soothes me, even if only slightly. “I need to rest,” I murmur, letting exhaustion finally catch up to me while deliberately putting some distance between us. His presence is starting to feel unsettlingly natural.
“Sure.” Chase nods and turns on his heel like a soldier following orders.
As if on cue, the sting from my stitches shoots through me, making me wince and coil.
“Hey, you okay?” He’s beside me like his stride was three yard long. All this time he was lingering at the foot of my bed. But true to his nature, when his help is called, he’s there in an instant.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” I lie, though my voice gives me away.
“If you want to sleep, you might want to lower the headrest,” he suggests
“Please.”
Chase works the control. “Say when.”
“When.”
“Better?”
His smile eases the sting in my belly, but it leaves a different kind of ache behind.
I push it aside. “Yeah. Thanks.”
He steps back, ready to leave, but something about his posture falters. There’s a hesitation, a pause heavy with words he doesn’t say. A request, perhaps?
“Laramie,” I murmur, stopping him just as he reaches the door. “Her name is Laramie.”
He turns, and for the first time, his expression shifts into something fragile and unguarded. His smile is small but genuine, a quiet moment of connection that catches me off guard. It’s as if, in hearing her name from me, he’s earned a piece of something sacred. And just like that, the air between us changes.
How did I let myself get here?
Feelings? Who ordered those?
