LITMIR.BIZ

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a sitting position. In the dark, she reached for him, finding his shoulder as he sat up.

      “That was close.”

      She sucked in a breath at his words. Too close. Someone had tried to run them down. “That was a base vehicle. One they use to move the planes.”

      “We need to alert security.”

      “Can you stand?” she asked.

      “Yes,” he barked out.

      She didn’t take his tone personally as she rose and helped him to his feet. He was allowed to be cranky after dodging a speeding truck. “Thank you for saving my life.”

      “Saved both our bacon,” he said. “That maniac would have mowed us both over.”

      “True,” she said past the tension lodged in her chest like a rock.

      Only when they were inside the training center did she see that Westley’s uniform jacket was ripped at the elbow and blood seeped from a scrape. While he made the call to Security Forces, she went in search of gauze and alcohol wipes.

      She ran in to Bobby Stevens, an airman and new trainer who’d only been at the center for a month.

      “Hey, Bobby,” she said.

      He saluted. His gaze took in the items she held. “Everything okay?”

      “Westley’s injured,” she told him. “I got it.”

      “What happened?” Bobby followed her to Westley’s office, where he was still on the phone.

      Not sure she if should say anything, remembering Ian’s warning of not trusting anyone, she fudged. “A little mishap, that’s all.”

      Westley ended his call and said, “Bobby. How are the dogs?”

      “Good, sir,” Bobby replied with a salute.

      Westley returned the salute with a wince. No doubt from his injured elbow. “Make sure to let the vet know if any of the dogs seem off. You never know what any one of them could have eaten.”

      Bobby nodded and hurried away.

      To Felicity, Westley said, “Let’s get Dakota and go.”

      She frowned and held up the gauze and wipes. “Let me dress your wound.”

      “Later.” He came around his desk and went to a closet, where he grabbed a duffel bag. “Let’s go.”

      By the time they made it outside with Dakota trotting alongside them, two Security Forces vehicles rolled to a stop. Linc hopped out of one and Justin out of the other.

      Justin strode to their side. “What happened?”

      After Westley explained, Felicity spoke up. “I recognized the vehicle as one of the trucks that push the planes around the runway.”

      “Did you get the license number?” Linc asked.

      “It had been removed,” she told them.

      To Linc, Justin said, “Put out an alert. Anyone sees one of those trucks missing a plate needs to report in.” Linc nodded and headed back to his vehicle. To Westley and Felicity Justin asked, “Any chance you saw the driver?”

      They both shook their heads.

      “We were too busy diving out of the way,” Westley remarked drily.

      Justin rubbed his chin. “Last we heard, a civilian reported spotting Boyd a few hours away. But that person could be mistaken and he could actually be on base.”

      “Or the driver could be someone else,” Felicity said. Her gaze met Westley’s.

      “The one who ransacked your house?” Justin looked thoughtful. “Why try to hurt you?”

      She didn’t have an answer. It was one thing to think the villain was searching for the file on the hit-and-run. Now was he trying to kill her?

      A shiver of fear went through her. Dakota edged closer and touched his nose to her hand. The dog apparently sensed her upset.

      “I’m taking Felicity home,” Westley said. “Dakota and I will be on twenty-four-hour duty.”

      Felicity wanted to say that it wasn’t necessary, but she wasn’t about to put herself in a vulnerable position just because she was uncomfortable with the idea of Westley in her home.

      Though uncomfortable wasn’t exactly the right word. More like she’d be hyperaware of him and that would mess with her head. She was struggling as it was to keep her feelings from veering into territory she’d rather not explore. Yet, she couldn’t come up with a logical protest that wouldn’t reveal her feelings.

      “All right then. Stay safe.” Justin drove away, as did Linc.

      Deciding it would be better to take the small SUV Westley used for transporting dogs across base, they left her car parked in the lot. They loaded Dakota into the back and then both climbed in the front. After buckling up, she turned to Westley. His strong jaw was set in a tense line. His capable hands gripped the steering wheel.

      Emotion clogged her throat. He’d risked his life for her. And she had no doubt he would do so again if necessary.

      “Thank you again. I appreciate your willingness to see to my safety.” Inwardly she groaned at the stiff and formal way she spoke when she was nervous.

      Westley sat silent for a moment, then he looked at her. “The truth is I should have known that car was there. I should have been prepared for something to happen. I won’t be caught unaware again.”

      “Please, you couldn’t have foreseen the near miss with the base truck. I didn’t see it.”

      “But it’s my job to see the threat before it gets to you.”

      “You’re not a superhero,” she said.

      He snorted. “Maybe that’s what you need. Someone else who will protect you better.”

      A flutter of panic hit her out of the blue. “Stop it. I want you to protect me. Now start this car and get us home.” She sat back and tried not to think about how true those words were. She couldn’t imagine putting her life into anyone else’s hands.

      But what about her heart? Was that safe as well?

      * * *

      I want you to protect me.

      As Westley sat on the leather couch in the living room of the Monroe home, Felicity’s words reverberated through his mind.

      She had no idea how much those words rocked his world. No one had ever wanted him for anything. Not his father or his mother. Not the foster parents he’d been sloughed off to after his mom had dumped him off at child protective services. Okay, that wasn’t totally accurate. There had been one foster mother who had treated him with kindness, but then he’d been yanked from the home after a fight with another foster kid.

      He’d hardened his heart long ago against the need to be wanted.

      But with those words Felicity had turned him to mush.

      As he helped her put her house back in order, he’d tried to keep an emotional and physical distance. He’d been relieved when she’d finally bid him good-night and had gone upstairs.

      Above his head a floorboard creaked. He was hypersensitive to every movement she made as she settled in for the night.

      He leaned back against the cushion. From this vantage point he had a clear view of the front door, the back door and the door to the garage. Dakota laid down across the threshold to the stairs after he’d done a perimeter check. They were on guard and ready, should any danger appear.

      Felicity was as safe as they could make her.

      Even still, Westley sent up a prayer that God would surround the house with protection. The thought of how easily that truck

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