***
Bently squinted his eyes open, jolting upright. Warm sunlight trickled in through gray curtains, shining onto the red-rose bedspread. This is not my bedroom . . .
Belle.
He settled back, replaying the long night they’d had together, orgasm after orgasm that he’d given her before she’d fallen asleep in his arms. He shifted, adjusting his throbbing cock in his boxer briefs. He’d need a cold shower soon, that was for sure. He’d never gotten so worked up and not at least given himself relief. But she’d looked too peaceful to move his arm from under her as they’d lain in bed last night. Where was she now?
The door opened and Belle walked in carrying two cups of coffee. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”
Her shy smile only made his grin widen. He accepted the cup and took a sip in an attempt to hide his morning breath, before he said, “Good morning to you, gorgeous. Thanks for this.”
“It’s the least I owe you.” She sat next to him on the other side of the bed.
He set his cup on the nightstand and held out his arms to her. “Come here.”
She set her own mug down and moved closer.
He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her chin to meet her eyes. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“You’re not upset because I didn’t . . . return the favor?”
What! That’s what she thinks of me? No. That’s what she’s known all her life. She deserved so much more. And he was just another selfish bastard getting in line. “Last night wasn’t a favor. It was a gift. No strings attached. Last night was for you.”
She nodded, her neck bobbing as she swallowed.
“Fuck, I want you more than I ever thought was possible. But I will never pressure you to do anything you’re not ready for. I’ll wait as long as you need to be ready for that.” He rubbed her cheek with his thumb.
She sighed and leaned her head against his. “I know that. It’s just . . . you’re so much more than I was ready for.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” He chuckled.
“It’s the best thing.” She leaned in and kissed him.
When they pulled apart, he pressed his lips to her temple. “Now, how about I take you to breakfast and then I’ll drop you back off here before I go into work?”
She smiled. “That sounds like a great idea.”
After relieving himself and freshening up in the bathroom, he followed her downstairs. The warm feeling in his chest grew. Love for Belle overflowed like a well, spilling over and soaking his every cell. She’d come into his life and stolen parts of his heart he hadn’t known existed. He was going to do whatever it took to protect her, to care for her, to love her.
TJ was sitting at the kitchen table scribbling away in a sketchbook. He looked up as they passed the kitchen. “Sleeping beauty finally awake?”
“Smart-ass,” Bently replied playfully.
TJ smirked, mirth flashing in his eyes.
“You coming to get breakfast with us?” Bently asked.
TJ shook his head. “Nah.”
“Your loss.” Bently shrugged as he grabbed his jacket. His arm snaked around Belle’s as she laughed. “And my gain.”
A warm smile spread across Belle’s face as her eyes sparkled like she couldn’t believe how good and right this felt either. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Come on. I’ve worked up an appetite.”
“Uhhhh, too much information!” TJ grumbled.
Bently and Belle burst out laughing as he opened the door for her. But the laughter died as soon as it had started. The blood drained from his face. Belle’s body stiffened. Her gasp was the last thing he heard as blood rushed in his ears. Adrenaline and instinct kicked his body into high alert.
Words were written in blood across his windshield. “You’ll pay.” A gallon or more of red liquid had been sprayed all over the hood of his truck. There in the center lay a lifeless pig.
The fuck? What happened?
Violence stained his life. Belle. Belle wasn’t safe. Not with him. He opened the door and shoved Belle back inside.
“Lock the door,” he barked.
His eyes greedily searched the neighborhood. The fucker would want to see him find this. Whoever this was knew he’d be here. Or he followed me. Did that mean his family was in harm’s way too? Either way, it meant Belle and TJ were in danger because of him. He’d promised to take care of her, be her protector. He’d put them in harm’s way. He’d failed.
Bently dialed dispatch. He needed Vargas to help him sort this out.
Several minutes later, Officer Luke Parsons and Rife Owens pulled up, lights flashing.
“What the fuck?” Rife asked, surveying the damage.
“I want to find out who this fucker is,” Bently growled.
“Well, at least we know it ain’t gonna be one of those Muslims.” Parsons laughed.
Bently and Rife both turned to him. Bently’s fists clenched, his nails biting into his palm. The fuck!?
“Oh, come on. Pigs, pork, Muslims . . . Get it?” Parsons didn’t take the hint.
“We’re not laughing because it’s not funny,” Bently snapped.
“Geez, tough crowd.” Parsons chuckled.
Rife shook his head. “I’ll get every inch of the truck dusted for fingerprints.”
“I’ll talk to the neighbors and see if they saw anything,” Parsons said, before heading to the house to the left of Belle’s.
“Sir, you should see this,” Rife called him over.
Bently walked to the open driver’s side door. Rife held a photo in one gloved hand. Bently’s eyes widened, taking in the photograph shot of him and Belle together from no more than a hundred yards away from this very spot as he helped her into his truck. But that wasn’t the outfit she’d worn last night. That was weeks ago—on one of their dates.
His pulse raced and his ears rang, drowning out all the other sounds around him. His vision grew hazy at the edges. Gasping for breath, he turned back to the duplex. Belle’s worried gaze focused on him from behind the window inside. His stomach
