23
Casper stood at the front window of Willow's house, his gaze sweeping across the endless horizon as he tried to process everything that had happened during their Los Angeles trip. As soon as they'd arrived home, he'd carried their bags inside, reset all the security systems, and finally allowed himself to release a long, relieved breath.
Big cities and crowds had never been his preferred environment, and while Willow's view lacked the familiar Montana mountain peaks, her Nebraska home offered a similar sense of spaciousness and the chance to fill his lungs with clean air.
His mind churned through all the descriptions and explanations she'd given him about the people they'd encountered. She maintained a complex web of professional relationships, old friendships, and business associates who made up her world. He'd known most of them from the background reports he'd studied while waiting on her security system, but now, armed with Willow's personal insights and observations, he had a much clearer understanding of the dynamics at play.
Unfortunately, he was no closer to identifying who might be stalking her.
He scrubbed his hand over his face with frustration. The knowledge that she was known to millions from her teenage years of stardom meant that any overzealous, unbalanced fan could be the perpetrator. The roses delivered to their hotel room proved that whoever was behind this had resources, patience, and the ability to track her movements with disturbing precision.
He heard her footsteps in the hallway and felt her presence before she came into view. It was as though his body had become attuned to hers in ways that went far beyond professional protection. When he turned, his gaze lingered over every detail of her appearance, drinking in the sight of her.
Her wet hair was pulled back in a loose braid, and her freshly scrubbed face glowed with natural beauty that no amount of Hollywood makeup could improve. An oversized sweatshirt had slipped off one shoulder, revealing the elegant line of her collarbone, while black leggings fit her curves like a second skin. Thick, slouchy socks completed the picture of comfortable domesticity, calling to something deep in his chest.
Every inch of her appealed to him in ways that had nothing to do with Rose fromRiverside Highor the award-winning screenwriter. This was just Willow… the woman whose genuine smile and easy warmth had reached past all his carefully constructed defenses and burrowed into his heart like no one ever before.
I've known her for less than a week, and I can’t imagine not having her in my life.
"It feels so good to be home! I thought I'd fix some dinner," she said, her voice carrying the obvious joy at how much she valued being back in her own space.
"You're probably exhausted from traveling, so we can order something?—"
Her smile and scrunched nose stopped him mid-sentence, the expression so endearing that he felt his chest tighten with affection.
"I'm hungry, you're hungry, and I like to cook. So hush!"
He chuckled despite himself, shaking his head in amazement. "Can’t remember the last time I was hushed."
She lifted one eyebrow, adopting a mock-haughty expression that made her look younger and more playful. "Well, I’m not afraid of the big, silent protector."
They both moved into the kitchen, laughing, and he marveled at how natural the easy banter felt. He was filled with a sense of belonging somewhere that he'd never experienced before. And he realized it wasn’t the place… it was just being with her.
"What did you do while I was taking a shower?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder as she pulled a frozen casserole from the freezer.
"Called my fellow Keepers and filled them in on what I learned during our trip." He leaned against the counter, watching her efficient movements as she prepared their meal. "The problem is that an untold number of people could potentially be overzealous fans who are stalking you. But it helped for me to meet some of the people in your inner circle who would have access to your schedule and personal information. Those who unwittingly or not might have given out the information that you’d be in town.”
She nodded thoughtfully, processing his words in that careful way he'd come to appreciate. She set the casserole in the oven and closed the door before leaning her hip against the counter to face him.
"I haven’t asked before, but I’m curious. What exactly is a Keeper?"
He grinned, knowing the term rolled off his tongue easily but was completely foreign to most people. "There was a man… a leader… hell, a visionary who grew up near a lighthouse in Maine. When he left the special forces, he wanted to replicate what he'd experienced in the military by bringing together some of the best of the best into a security and investigation team. He named his company Lighthouse Security Investigation, or LSI for short. The men and women who worked for him were called Keepers, after the lighthouse keepers of old. They were known for risking their lives to bring people to safety."
“Oh, wow.” Her expression showed genuine interest, encouraging him to continue, and he found himself stringing more words together than he typically did at once.
"Lighthouse keepers became the foundation for his business model. Eventually, he partnered with someone in California who started LSI West Coast. Later, the two LSI leaders contracted with my boss, Logan Bishop, who started the Montana branch."
She opened her mouth to speak, but he continued, anticipating her question. "I know you're going to ask about lighthouses in Montana."
She laughed, nodding. "Yeah, that's going to need some explaining."
"Light towers are still positioned on some Montana mountains, originally built to provide the same safety guidance for aircraft that lighthouses provide for ships. So LSI Montana was born." He paused, meeting her gaze directly. "I'm a Keeper, and the other Keepers I work with are the best men and women I know."
She listened with complete attention, her eyes never leaving his face as her lips curved upward in that smile that warmed him from the inside out. "Casper! I think that's the most you've ever said at one time!"
He chuckled, mimicking her posture by leaning his hip against the counter. "Yeah."
"Oh no, don't go back to short sentences!" she said quickly. "I want to know more about you."
