But how could I make sure without being by her side every second of every day?
Chapter 14 – Molly
“Are you sure you have the right address?” I asked the man standing at my front door in a slate-gray polo that readSanders Securityacross the front. He had a matching truck parked in my driveway. Two more trucks with the same logo pulled in as I stood there talking to him.
We’d attended the same high school. Guess Spencer Sanders grew up and opened his own security business. He was probably standing here right now because one of my brothers had gone full-on overprotective big brother after what had happened Saturday at the bakery.
“This is the correct address. I’m positive,” he said. “I also have a work order for 311 Main Street on the schedule for tomorrow. Full security system—motion-activated lights and alarms, remote-access cameras covering every inch of the house, and a panic alarm that immediately alerts 911. Looks like the whole shebang at both,” he added, reading off the list on his clipboard.
“Which one of my psychotic brothers sent you?”
He flipped through the paperwork. “Um—looks like everything was ordered by someone named Liam Carson. I’m not seeing the McKinley name anywhere.”
I pulled my phone from my back pocket and dialed his number. He answered on the first ring.
“Hello?”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“I’m guessing the security company showed up, huh?”
“This seems like overkill, Liam. Cameras on every inch of the house? What’s next? Are you going to put one in my bedroom and watch me sleep?”
“Don’t give me any ideas,” he warned. “You’re lucky I’m not becoming your personal bodyguard until further notice.”
“Nope. Just my full-time stalker.”
“Until I figure out who tried to break in, I have to make sure you’re safe at all times.”
“What happens if I’m not at home or at the bakery? There’s no camera to follow me around then.”
“You’re not helping your case against the full-time bodyguard idea.”
“What happens if you never figure out who that guy was?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” he said, having an answer for everything.
“Something tells me I’m not going to be able to kick and scream my way out of this one,” I said, half-whining.
“You’re not, so don’t even try it. I don’t care if you hate my guts—I still want you safe, Molls.”
“Fine,” I said, ending the call.
I didn’t miss the way he called meMollsagain. I didn’t miss the way it made me feel either.
I opened the door wider and stepped back, motioning for Spencer to come in. “Make yourself at home,” I said, giving him the best smile I could manage under the circumstances.
I sank down onto the couch as Spencer and his crew started drilling holes and mounting cameras throughout the house.
At first, I opened my book, trying to read and get my mind off everything, but the constant whine of the drills kept distracting me. After a few failed attempts at reading, I gave up and retreated to the kitchen to bake.
For some reason, I was suddenly craving lemon bars.
“You’re going to be just like your daddy, aren’t you?” I murmured, resting a hand on my stomach, as if the baby could actually hear me.
As I pressed the crust for the lemon bars into the glass baking dish, the smell of freshly squeezed lemonjuice pulled my mind back to the night Liam found me mid–panic attack—and everything that followed.
I remembered how amazing he had felt inside of me. How easily he’d worshipped my body all night long, like a man who knew what he wanted—and exactly how he was going to get it.
