Page 26 of This Christmas

She nodded. “I hope so. Charlotte’s school isn’t far from there. There’s a day care on the facility for when she gets off school too.”

He nodded and looked out the windows at the darkness outside.

“I hate that this still scares me,” she admitted. “I tell myself it’s over, that I’m safe, and then something like that happens and I’m right back there again, waiting for the next bad thing to pop up.”

“It’s not weakness,” he said, meaning it. “It’s survival. You’ve been through hell. It changes how you see the world.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed hard. “I just want to stop looking over my shoulder. For me, for Charlotte. I don’t want her growing up thinking this is normal.”

“She won’t,” he said firmly. “Not if I can do anything to help it.”

She turned to him then, her eyes glimmering. “What can you do?”

“Well, for starters, I can file a complaint against Peterson. I can spread the word around town that he’s not to get near you or Charlotte. Hell, half this town would probably run that guy off a cliff if they knew what he’d pulled earlier. He should have never approached you with Charlotte around. We just don’t do that. We PIs have a code.” He held her gaze, meaning every word.

That made her laugh softly, and he caught the flicker of relief behind it. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s easy,” he said.

Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something else, but she only nodded. “It’s nice,” she whispered finally, “having someone else watching out for me. I forgot what that felt like.”

Something tugged in his chest, something dangerous and warm.

She smiled faintly, but her eyes held his. “I’m glad you were there today.”

“So am I,” he murmured, and gave her a half smile. “Thanks for letting me tag along tonight.”

For a moment, they just stood there in silence, the kind that felt easy. Outside, the rain had turned into light snow that was drifted past the windows, slow and peaceful, and the light from the lantern above shimmered against the white flakes every now and then.

Then she yawned softly, covering her mouth. “Sorry. I guess today is catching up to me.”

“No need to be sorry. I’d better go.” He pulled his coat from the back of the chair. “You need rest. I’ll head out before the roads get worse.”

She hesitated, then followed him to the front door. “Thank you,” she said again. “For everything today. And tonight.”

He looked down at her, wanting to say something more, something he couldn’t quite put into words. Instead, he stood in the doorway and brushed a bit of snow off his sleeve and said, “Lock the door behind me. Set the alarm.”

“I will.” She smiled faintly. “Drive safe.”

He stepped out into the cold and it instantly bit through his coat as he turned toward his car.

His gaze circled the property a few times before driving down the lane. Then he checked a few spots an SUV would be able to park off the road and found Peterson sitting at the public beach access.

Deciding now was not the time to confront the guy, he parked in the shadows and settled down to make sure the man stayed in his vehicle all night.