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jus’ want your name.” The man thrust out a finger. “Ya don’t hafta be a bitch about it.”

      Josh came at him with a flurry of tiny fists. “Don’t call my mom names.”

      “What’s going on?” a deep voice called.

      “Help.” She shoved at the drunk’s chest but he was too big for her to move. “Help.”

      He shoved her shoulder. Hard.

      She smacked into the wall, crumpling to her knees.

      Josh kicked and punched. “Leave her alone!”

      “Hey!” Boots thumped on the tile floor.

      The drunk stumbled away.

      Josh’s arms wrapped around her neck and she clung to him. “Mommy.”

      “Are you okay?” her rescuer asked.

      She stared at work boots and then up a pair of long legs.

      Nathan Forester gazed down at her. He was the twin brother of Bess Fitzgerald’s fiancé and Bess was one of her bosses. Nathan had worked in this building off and on since last fall. Cheryl tried to avoid him as much as possible. He was so...large. But since they were connected through the Fitzgeralds, avoidance was impossible.

      “We’re...fine.” A lie. Both she and Josh shook like they were standing in a walk-in freezer.

      “Who was he?” Nathan peered down the hall.

      “Some drunk.” Her voice squeaked.

      Nathan held out his hand. His usual cocky grin was missing. A dirty white T-shirt tightened against the muscles in his chest and arms. Sheetrock dust covered his jeans. His ball cap was on backward, but thick blond hair curled on his neck. He was a modern-day James Dean without the cigarette. “Does that guy live here?”

      “I don’t think so.” She put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. “He followed me.”

      Nathan’s eyebrows arched. “You shouldn’t let strangers into the building.”

      Had she? “Oh, God. I forgot to pull the door closed.”

      A door clanged again and Gray Smythe, the building owner, came down the hall. “Something wrong?”

      “Some creep hassled Cheryl. I yelled and he hatted.”

      Gray studied Cheryl. “You okay?”

      She nodded, afraid any words she spoke would come out a muddled mess.

      “Mr. Gray.” Josh threw himself at Gray. “I kicked the guy and he ran away.”

      Cheryl backed into the apartment. She’d almost mastered not cowering around Gray. She shouldn’t be afraid of him. He was very kind and married to her boss, Abby Fitzgerald.

      “I don’t like this.” Gray carried Josh into the apartment and set him down. Nathan followed and shut the door. With two men filling the entryway, she couldn’t breathe.

      “He was mean. He pushed me.” Josh hung his backpack on the hook. “Can I have a cupcake?”

      She looked around. “I dropped the box in the hall.”

      “I’ll get it.” Gray headed for the door.

      “What if the man’s still in the building?” Cheryl wrapped her arms around her waist as she headed to her small kitchen.

      “He left,” Nathan said. “But I suppose another idiot could let him back in.”

      “Idiot?” she gasped.

      “Sorry.” But he didn’t look sorry. “With all the bars and pubs on River Street, you need to pay attention.”

      “I do,” she protested.

      Nathan raised an eyebrow as Gray handed her the smashed box.

      With shaking hands, she pulled a plate from the cupboard. Only this time her hands shook because of Nathan. Idiot? She would do anything to protect Josh.

      But, just like in her childhood, she’d frozen. Why couldn’t she be brave?

      In the box, the bright pink and blue cupcakes had smashed together. “Have a cupcake?” she asked.

      Josh grinned. “The colors mixed together and made purple.”

      She grabbed glasses and filled them with milk. “Gray, I meant to tell you, the latch on the entry door isn’t catching.”

      “This is the third time this month someone got in.” Gray took a cupcake and paced the small room. “I’ll replace the door.”

      “How about adding a security camera?” Nathan selected a mostly blue cupcake.

      “Maybe.” Gray nodded.

      The two men discussed options and Cheryl backed into the corner, wishing they would leave.

      “How often do you work late?” Nathan asked.

      She frowned.

      “How often do you come in late at night?” he clarified.

      She rubbed her arms. “Once or twice a week.”

      “Too often.” Nathan shook his head.

      Gray’s blue gaze sharpened. “No one’s living in the B and B carriage house apartment right now.”

      Nathan tipped his head. “I start the restaurant renovations next week.”

      Ever since Cheryl had started working for the Fitzgeralds, a sister had always lived in the second-floor carriage house apartment. But just a few months ago, Dolley, the youngest sister, had moved out to live with her boyfriend.

      “Will your crews work at night?” Gray asked.

      “No.” Nathan pushed off his ball cap and rubbed his hair. “But it’ll be busy during the day and I don’t want to work around a woman and a kid.”

      “Cheryl and Josh lived in this building during the renovation and I was glad for the extra security,” Gray said.

      Nathan grimaced. “I guess.”

      Gray turned to her. “What do you think about living in another work zone?”

      Men working below her apartment? She looked at Nathan and chewed her thumbnail. Having him around most days might bother her, but she couldn’t explain that to Gray. She sank into a chair, not able to take this in. “Savannah’s safe.”

      Nathan snorted. “Don’t be a fool.”

      First he called her an idiot and now a fool.

      “My mom’s no fool.” Josh glared.

      Nathan held up his hands but didn’t apologize.

      Nathan knew nothing. This place was a huge improvement from the apartment she and Josh had rented after escaping Levi. Drug deals had happened daily in the nearby Laundromat.

      Living in a brand-new apartment had lulled her into a false sense of security. And she’d had to be saved—again. The story of her life.

      Her son crawled onto her lap. “He’s a butthead,” he whispered.

      “Josh,” she warned. Unfortunately she agreed.

      But if Nathan hadn’t come along, her son might have been hurt. She shuddered and held him close. Josh had to be safe. That was her job as a mother. Living across the courtyard from work might be the perfect solution.

      She swallowed. “I would love to rent the carriage house apartment.”

      * * *

      A BUMP ECHOED above Nathan’s head. The bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling swayed and dust drifted to the dirt floor of the Fitzgerald carriage house.

      What

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