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His angel was in the grip of a PTSD flashback. It was more than a panic attack, and indecision tore at him. Run to her, or risk triggering her further? Tapping on the window of a woman’s car at night in the middle of an episode might make things worse. When he finally decided fuck it and went to comfort her, the worst of the episode had passed. She was moving again, heading inside at last. He knew from witnessing similar flashbacks in his army brothers that intense feelings of shame and embarrassment after a public episode were common. He didn’t want her to know how much he worried about her. Or even that he saw what had happened.

The best he could do for her was stay by her side until she was truly, fully recovered. The passion they shared was unexpected. Once he was assured of her recovery, their attraction had exploded like a bomb.

His rational brain told him it was too soon. They’d just met. If he pushed her too much this early, she would slip through his fingers. He would have to be patient, careful.

For the first time in months, Damon slept with pleasant dreams. Dreams of his angel, his neighbor, his new mission.

Phase One began the next day with a trip to the next town over. Sunset Falls was every bit the charming midwestern town that Maple Lane Falls was, but it was twice the size.

More importantly, it also had a construction supply store.

Damon was tackling her list of repairs. With her email printout in his pocket, he drove the half hour to Sunset Falls to buy the materials he didn’t want to wait for delivery.

His father left him the pickup truck along with the duplex. It had two hundred thousand miles and little market value, but it still ran smoothly. Damon couldn’t decide if he wanted to keep it as a project vehicle for tinkering, or if he wanted to sell it outright.

Hobbies would help him settle into civilian life. Or so his therapist told him. Being gone so often on deployment meant he avoided long-term projects or hobbies requiring a lot of gear.

Now he had the time and the space. Hell, he even had the vehicle to haul it all around. He might have been unsure what to do with the duplex property when he first inherited it, but now he was resolved.

He would work his way through Nicole’s list of repairs, building her trust along the way.

Damon spent two hours working his way through his supply list. Some of the repairs would be resolved as part of a larger fix, like expanding the deck. But the rest were basic maintenance, like the lightbulbs he replaced yesterday.

Satisfied he had everything he needed, Damon approached the cashier. He looked older than the store itself. “You preparing for a party?”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Your cart. Looks like a honey-do list your wife gave you before she throws some sort of party.” After a pause, he pointed a knobby, arthritic finger at his chest. “That glitter says you been taking decorations out of the attic, too.”

He looked down, brushing in vain at the orange sparkles that refused to let go of his flannel. “No, I’m making repairs to a building I own. What do you mean, honey-do list?”

“You must not be married long.” The man chuckled.

“No, I mean, why does my cart make you think I’m having a party?” Something niggled at the edge of Damon’s mind. Like a thought or an observation just beyond the reach of his consciousness.

The old man scanned a few more items, making the register beep in the silence before he said, “there’s everything you need to spruce up the outside of a house. New deadbolt, exterior light fixtures with motion sensors, spline and enough material to replace the screen on all the first floor windows, I’m guessin’.” He raised his eyebrows as if to ask, should I continue?

More beeps, and Damon paid. As he put his wallet in his pocket, he noticed a flyer. “What’s this?”

“You really are new in town, aren’t ya?” He handed over Damon’s receipt. “Next town over throws a fall festival every year. Maple Lane Falls. They shut down Main Street and everyone from fifty miles around comes.”

“This weekend, huh?” Maybe his angel would be there. If Main Street closed for the festival, she wouldn’t be working because the cafe would be closed. It wouldn’t be a date if they just happened to bump into each other at the festival. What was that expression? Accidentally on purpose.

“Starts today, actually. Friday’s opening ceremony is a bachelor auction for a different charity each year.” The cashier chucked. “I put myself on the ole auction block a time or two when I was a young man.”

“I’m sure you fetched top dollar, sir.”

Damon reflected on the conversation as he left. Once everything was loaded and tied down in the bed of his truck, Damon took out Nicole’s email. He reread the list of requests with fresh eyes.

Nicole wasn’t preparing for a party, she was preparing for an invasion. Each repair in itself was reasonable for a tenant to request. But taken together, and knowing she had some form of PTSD, realization dawned on him.

Whether real or perceived, Nicole was a woman in fear for her personal safety. Scanning the emails she exchanged with the tenant account, first with his dad responding and then, later, from him… Nicole completed all the work she was able to do herself, like trimming the hedges, but she requested the landlord make improvements to the security.

His angel was scared. More than that, he could see from her words in these emails that Nicole wanted the duplex as close to a fortress as possible. He hadn’t noticed at first because her requests were spread over multiple emails. His dad reduced the rent any time she completed an item on the list herself, so the whole picture was obscured by the back-and-forth conversation.

He started the truck and headed back to Maple Lane Falls. The entire drive back, he had only one thought.

There was no more holding back, no more taking it slow. Damon would build her the fortress she deserved.