She’d tripped and fallen back into the curio cabinet with all her glass items. She’d ended up bleeding between her legs and almost losing the baby. The doctor couldn’t say for sure if stress or the jarring from the fall had caused the bleeding. She’d been on bed rest for a few days and had had no problems in the two weeks since. She didn’t need Mike returning and causing problems. And she didn’t want to be afraid whenever she went out.
The sound of the doorbell jarred her, and she jumped. God, not again. She rose and tiptoed to the peephole and looked out.
Scott.
Thank God. She didn’t stop to think, just unhooked the chain she’d installed after Mike had moved out and let Scott inside.
After his sister had ripped into him, Scott had actually felt bad, wondering if he’d pushed Meg into something she wasn’t ready for. He decided to call her . . . but his car just happened to pull off at her exit. Yeah. He’d keep telling himself that.
He rang her doorbell, not even knowing if she was home. The door swung open wide, and he found himself facing a pale, wide-eyed Meg.
His protective instincts swung into high gear. “What’s wrong?” He stepped inside and shut the door behind him.
“I . . . My ex was here,” she said, her big brown eyes damp.
Rage at the thought of anyone scaring her, hurting her, filled him. “Here? As in inside?”
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t open the door.”
He breathed out a relieved breath. “Good girl.”
“But he kept banging and yelling, cursing, saying we needed to talk.”
“Not happening,” Scott said through clenched teeth.
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” she agreed. “I didn’t answer him. But he’s not going to just go away. Restraining order or not.”
Her hands shook, and he clasped both his palms around her cold extremities and held on. Despite the serious situation, he couldn’t help but notice how soft her skin was, how delicate she felt beneath his fingers.
“I don’t understand. I don’t want anything from him. Not a dime, even though his family can more than afford it. I just want him to sign away his parental rights. Why won’t he just do that?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Scott filed the information about his family’s money away for later. “People have strange reasons for doing things.” He’d have to figure out Mike’s. But right now, Meg was his only concern, and she needed to calm down.
He led her to the couch, where she’d obviously been sitting with her open laptop and notepad. He sat down, pulled her onto his lap, and she immediately curled into him, seeking comfort he was only too happy to give.
“It’ll be fine,” he assured her, wrapping his arms around her smaller frame. She felt so delicate, so perfect in his arms.
“I hope so.” She curled her fingers into his shirt and rested her head against his chest with a small quivering sigh.
“I won’t let him hurt you.” He stroked the back of her hair, inhaling the fragrant scent of her shampoo. Memories of sliding into her wet heat hit him without warning, and his body responded.
He swallowed a curse, reminding himself she sought reassurance, not sex, but his stiff cock wasn’t listening. It didn’t help when she wriggled deeper into him, her face tucked against his neck, her breath hot on his skin.
He needed to think with his head. The one with common sense that knew she was frightened. “Hey.” He brushed her hair out of her face. “You’re safe now.”
“I know. I just feel so stupid, thinking a piece of paper would keep him away. And I don’t know what to do now.”
“Well, first thing, let’s get this visit documented by the police. You want everything on record.” In case something else happened, which Scott wouldn’t say to her out loud. For one thing, he didn’t want to frighten her further. And for another, he wouldn’t let that bastard near her.
She eased back to meet his gaze. “I can’t prove Mike was here.”
“I’ll talk to your neighbors. See if anyone heard him yelling or recognized his voice. Okay?”
She remained silent, not looking at him. Clearly he wasn’t helping. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything.” She pushed off him, sliding into her own space on the sofa.
He immediately missed the warmth and heat of her body, but she obviously needed distance. “Tell me.”
She blinked her thick lashes. “I promised myself I’d stand on my own, and at the first sign of a crisis, I curled up in your lap and let you take over. How’s that for falling back into old patterns?” she said, frustration and annoyance in her tone.
“Listen to me.” Needing to touch her, to maintain the contact they’d been sharing, he placed a hand beneath her chin and tilted her head.
She met his gaze with wide brown eyes, and he was struck with a connection, a sense of knowing he’d felt from the first time they’d met. This woman tied him up in knots, made him want to fix things so he could see her smile and light up just for him.
Shit. He shook his head, not understanding how the hell he’d gone from never again to invested so quickly.
“What is it?” she asked, breaking into his too-serious thoughts.
He swallowed hard. Forced himself to concentrate on the thread of their conversation and not his emotions. “There is a huge difference between accepting help from a friend who is experienced in these things and falling back into bad patterns,” he explained. “Do you trust me?” he asked.
She nodded slowly. “I realize I barely know you, my judgment sucks, but that said, yes, I do.”
The notion was humbling. “Good. So go make
