“Why don’t you tell me more about this ex-boyfriend you mentioned on the phone? I need as many details as you’re willing to offer.”
I inhaled a steadying breath and released it. Then I started talking. I couldn’t help feeling a prickle of embarrassment as I spoke. When I laid it all out like this, it seemed painfully obvious that Chett was a total asshole. Why did I waste five whole years of my life on that prick?
And now, I felt…gross, tainted, burdened by the searing brand of his words on my brain.
You look like a beached whale in that dress. Change into something else. I don’t want to be seen with you in that thing at dinner.
You’re lucky that you landed a guy like me. No one else would put up with your crap the way I do.
Come on, you can’t blame me for cheating. A majority of women are prettier than you. It’s just part of a man’s nature to appreciate a beautiful woman.
My voice cracked at the flood of memories and I broke off mid-sentence. I clutched my coffee cup, biting my lower lip as I fought to compose myself again.
“I’ve heard enough,” Nitro said gently. “You don’t have to continue.”
I nodded, grateful for that. The tightness in my throat prevented a reply though. I turned to the paperwork before me, but my vision was too blurry with tears to see anything more than a stream of fuzzy words. Grabbing the pen, I signed my name on the dotted line and pushed the paperwork back to Nitro.
Whatever his terms were, I would agree to them as long as it meant getting this bastard ex out of my life so I could move on and put him behind me.
“I look forward to doing business with you, Ms. Butler,” Nitro said, tucking the paperwork into his file folder.
“That sounds very formal for a man who hates being formal,” I replied.
A faint smile touched his lips.
“Good point. Let me try again. Congratulations, Riley. You just earned yourself the meanest guard dog on the block.”
I managed to smile back.
“That’s exactly what I was hoping for.”
Chapter two
Nitro
It killed me to watch Riley struggle as she relayed her story. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, and she looked utterly exhausted. Huddled in multiple layers of baggy clothes to hide from the world.
Which was a damn shame. Underneath her emotional turmoil, there was a faint sparkle in her eye when she smiled. I could only imagine the way she would thrive if she was loved properly.
I started the Iron Forge Security Agency because of women like her. Women who were terrorized and torn down by the men that were supposed to cherish and protect them. My sister endured the same hellish experience that Riley was going through now.
Thank God she found a good man who worships the ground she walks on. They have two energetic little girls now, and herstalker ex was nothing more than a bad memory these days. I hoped Riley would get her own happy ending like that too.
For my first day on the job, I followed Riley to the Sweetie Pie Bakery where she worked as a cake decorator. I parked myself at a table in the corner with my phone, facing the door, with a direct line of sight into the kitchen.
Around lunch time, Riley popped out with a small cake decorated in a winter scene. A crystallized lake of sugar. Snowy mountain peaks. And a snowman, bundled up in a red marzipan scarf, with chocolate button eyes. Curly blue icing read,Happy Holidays.
“On the house,” she said with a shy little smile. “For your help.”
Before I could protest that it wasn’t necessary since I was just doing my job, she slipped back into the kitchen.
Carving into the cake with a fork, I wondered how a sweet woman like her got mixed up with an asshole like her ex. He clearly didn’t deserve her. It never failed to sicken me how many men were determined to crush the women willing to see the good in them.
After Riley got off work, we headed to the town hall. She served as a volunteer, setting up the gingerbread house display that would span the entire first floor of the building. Hobby bakers from all over Juniper Creek exhibited their gingerbread masterpieces for the duration of the Christmas season.
I lingered in the background, watching Riley help an elderly woman find a spot for her gingerbread cottage. She looked considerably better than she did during our initial meeting at the coffee shop yesterday, with a bounce in her step, and her glossy hazelnut curls pinned back to frame her face.
My gaze strayed to the generous curve of her hips and thick thighs, clad in blue-and-white snowflake print leggings. Her ex was a fucking moron to bodyshame her the way he did. I wouldgive anything to have those thighs locked around my head with my tongue buried—
