The guy went to open his mouth then thought better of it, holding his hands up and walking backward.
“Hey, handsome.”
Tom almost ran smack-bang into a pretty blonde when he spun back around. The girl was laughing as she watched Caitlin. He didn’t reply, stormed past her and grabbed hold of Caitlin’s arm, harder than he meant to.
“Ouch!” He heard her squeal even over the loud music. “Tom?” Now she looked confused, but even drunk she was gorgeous. Annoyingly, irritatingly gorgeous.
Tom fought not to tell her off. He needed to get control of the situation now. He could tell her what he thought of her antics later when he’d calmed down. And when she wasn’t so annoyingly drunk, so she could comprehend what he was saying.
“Come on,” he commanded.
She shook her head, grabbing hold of the blonde, who was now standing, very seriously, beside her with hands on hips. She looked angry. Not as angry as he was, but angry enough to make him to feel imaginary prickles rise along his back as he watched her reaction. It was as if they were both being possessive of Caitlin.
“Mr. Navy SEAL,” the blonde said, shaking her head as she laughed at him. “Well, I’ll be.”
Tom tried his hardest to keep his face impartial, not to show how much seeing Caitlin like this infuriated him. Or how much he hated being teased,
goaded,
by a woman he didn’t even know.
“What do you want with the lovely Miss Rose, huh?” the blonde asked.
Tom glared at her companion and touched Caitlin gently on the arm. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Caitlin, it’s just…”
“What?” she asked, all innocent and wide-eyed, as though she had no idea what she’d been doing. He could have sworn he’d seen tears pooling in her eyes, as well as an expression in them that made him fear she’d actually been scared of him.
Tom groaned. Jeez, she really didn’t have any idea. About how gorgeous she was, how she looked, how she affected him…
Her friend stepped closer. “I need a word with Caitlin,” Tom said, trying not to growl. “In private.”
The friend shrugged. “Those your handsome Navy friends over there?” she asked, waggling her fingers in their direction, suddenly looking a whole lot less angry and a whole lot more interested.
Tom looked over his shoulder, not wanting to let go of Caitlin. “Ah, yeah,” he said, shaking his head as the guys hooted with laughter, cat-calling and whistling. “I’m sure they’d love to meet you.”
He looked at Caitlin, pleaded as best he could with his eyes. “Please, just a minute?”
Caitlin rocked, a little unsteady on her feet before nodding at her friend. “Luce, I’m fine. Go have fun.” She hiccuped and clamped one hand over her mouth.
Tom watched the other woman go before circling his arm around Caitlin’s waist and leading her away from the bar. She pressed into him, cuddling against his frame, turning big eyes up at him.
He fought not to turn his head away, forced a half smile, trying to ignore how good she felt tucked against him. How soft her body was, how warm she felt,
how right it seemed.
“Mmm, you smell good,” she said, face still upturned, eyes bright.
She’s drunk,
Tom reminded himself.
She has no idea what she’s saying and she sure as hell won’t remember it in the morning.
“Caitlin, what are you doing?” he asked, pushing her gently down into a seat and sliding in beside her. He’d always hated modern booth seats, but now he wasn’t so quick to moan.
“Um, having fun, dancing, you know,” she said, voice slightly slurred. “But my head’s starting to hurt.” She let her forehead fall into her hands, suddenly looking as weak as a wilting flower in the sun. “Tom, you’re not going to hurt me, are you?”
She was watching his hand where he was resting it, clenched on the table, as if it were a cobra ready to bite. Tom shook his head. Was she actually scared of him? He was used to being the protector, was used to his role being so clearly defined.
“Caitlin, I’m the good guy here.” He tried to soften his voice, tried to eliminate the anger that was like an itch beneath his skin. “You have to believe that I would never,
ever
, lay a hand on
any
woman unless she wanted me to, okay?” He’d been angry before, sure, but enough to scare her? Surely not…
Tom watched as she slowly, nervously nodded her head.
“See those guys I’m with over there?” Tom hooked a finger in their direction. “You’d hate to know what they were saying about you when you were dancing.”
“Like what?” she asked, all innocent-looking again.
Tom swallowed hard and reached for her hands. He didn’t know why, what made him do it, but his fingers closed over hers, drawing her skin close against his. Slowly, so as not to alarm her.
He hadn’t touched a woman like that, in that way, with that kind of purpose, in forever. Since his high-school sweetheart, in fact.
“What about Lucy?” Her eyebrows suddenly shot up.
“Sweetheart, I think Lucy can handle herself,” Tom said, shaking his head at how sweet she was. At how genuinely in the dark she was about how sexy she’d been before and what all the guys in the bar had no doubt thought of her.
Caitlin pulled her hands away and leaned into him, fell against his shoulder so quickly he didn’t see it coming. “I don’t feel so good.”
He braced her with one hand as he stood, before pulling her up with him. “I’m gonna get you a coffee then take you home, okay?”
She nodded, leaning into him, heavier than before. “You’ll look after me, right? Please look after me, Tom.”
Tom squeezed her shoulder, resisting the urge to drop a kiss to her inky-dark hair. It seemed like the natural thing to do,
the right thing,
but he knew it wasn’t.
She was a sweet girl. His niece’s teacher. That was all. And for some reason she was bringing out the primal, manly desire in him to protect and serve.
“I’ll always look after you, don’t worry.” He was only glad she was asking him that and not some other guy in the bar.
“Always?” she asked, eyes swimming.
Tom gulped. That had come out all wrong. “How do you take your coffee?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Hot chocolate,” she murmured, tucking in closer to him and wrapping one arm around his waist as if she had no intention of ever letting him go. “I need chocolate.”
And I need you.
He’d wanted to fight it. Had told himself he was only meeting her tomorrow because he had to make up for being rude at her place. But he was lying.
He wanted to see this girl again because she was the kind of girl he’d always imagined a life with. The kind of girl who made him want to take her home to meet his mom. The kind of girl who deserved to be cared for and protected, to be kept from harm and carefully nurtured.
The kind of girl he’d once hoped to marry.
He stopped resisting her and tucked her firmly to his side. It was only one night. Nothing was going to happen. She was drunk and he was going to take her home. He could fight his feelings for her tomorrow.
“Come on, sweetheart, let’s go,” Tom said, waving to his buddies and receiving a whoop from the group in reply. Caitlin’s friend was there and she raised her eyebrows and laughed.
He looked down at Caitlin wrapped around him, cuddled close.
Tom gulped.
She was the kind of girl he wanted to call his sweetheart, that’s what she was.
Tom drew her closer again as they walked toward his car, ignoring the cool night air and wanting to keep her warm. He opened his car by remote and kept Caitlin by his side.
Thank goodness he’d nursed that one beer for so long. Tonight was one night he was sure glad he could drive.
* * *
“Come on, let’s get you into bed.”
Caitlin laughed. Tom had to remind himself that she was drunk. Not just mildly drunk or a little tipsy, but in the kind of state he hated to see a woman in, out on her own.
Sure, she’d been with a girlfriend, but it still worried him.
If they’d been out together and she’d drunk too much, it wouldn’t have mattered, because he’d have protected her. But he didn’t want to imagine who could have taken advantage of her with so many men openly leering at her earlier on.
“Are you getting into bed with me?” she asked, still giggling to herself.
Tom sighed. Thinking about
her
and
bed
in the same context was not something he wanted to do. Especially not when she was tucked so close to his body again.
“Is it down here?” he asked, leaving her keys on the counter and guiding her down the hall. “I’m going to lay you down then lock up the house, okay?”
She leaned into him before steering them both through a door and flopping down onto the bed.
“The room is spinning. Tom, why is the room moving so fast?” she asked, one hand flung over her eyes.
Tom trained his eyes on Caitlin. He didn’t want to look around her room, see her pretty things all around him or want to stay here with her. He was putting her to bed, making sure she was safe.
He wasn’t here because he’d been invited back.
“Will you be all right if I leave you?” he asked, trying to force the huskiness from his voice as he looked at her lying on the bed.
Caitlin’s dress had risen up to expose perfectly shaped, toned lower legs silhouetted in the light of her bedside lamp. They were golden, smooth, feet in pointed shoes with heels that had made her way taller than she was.
Tom looked around the room again instead. Looking at her things instead of
her
suddenly felt a whole lot safer.
“Tommy?”
He grimaced. Only Gabby ever called him Tommy.
“I’m sooo hungry.”
“That I can help with,” he said, backing out of the room. “Stay put and I’ll make you a sandwich or something.”
Tom tried to think of something else, of work, of
anything,
but it wasn’t easy. Caitlin was gorgeous, a knockout, in the sweetest, most appealing of ways. Not overconfident or brazenly attractive, but soft and gentle-looking, beautiful like a perfectly proportioned doll.
And she was tiny. His little ballerina was tiny and breakable-looking…
Hell.
Tom rushed into the kitchen and rustled through the fridge. He had to get out of here. She wasn’t
his
anything, and the quicker he got out of here, the quicker he could come to terms with the fact that she wasn’t ever going to be his anything, either.
He found a turkey breast, sliced it, and slathered some mayo over the bread, starving hungry himself but wanting to get out of her house. He didn’t even pick at the meat, cutting the sandwich in half and looking for a plate.
Whoops! He almost dropped the plate as a loud
meow
made him jump.
“Do you mind?” Tom glared at the cat.
It only meowed louder.
“Seriously, feline, you’re killing me here.” Tom opened the sandwich to retrieve a piece of turkey for the cat, before closing it up and walking determinedly down the hall.
He was going to pass her the food, say good-night and walk out the door.
Or not.
Caitlin was out for the count, sound asleep. Snoring ever so softly and passed out on the bed.
Tom placed the plate on her side table, carefully slipped her shoes off and pulled up the comforter. She was so peaceful, so beautiful lying there that all he wanted to do was cuddle up right beside her. He craved the idea of closeness, of holding someone and being held, of having a warm, loving body beside his to comfort him.
But that wasn’t in his future now. Or at least not for a long while. He was dealing with too much, felt too much like a failure, even to make himself available to someone. Even to want that life he’d once wanted so badly. Too afraid that he’d pull someone else down and into the fears and pains that haunted him every day.
“Good night,” he whispered, hovering above her, waiting, before dropping a slow kiss to her forehead.
Tom looked down at her and smiled. He doubted she’d even be able to squash a spider, this pretty little teacher who’d made him go all protective tonight.
Tom grabbed half the sandwich and ate it as he left the house, flicking the catch on the door as he walked out.
He stood outside in the chilly night air, swallowed, then stretched his legs. What he needed right now was to run.
A cold shower might have helped, but running was what he did. How he coped with things. Right now his mind was scrambled and he didn’t like it one bit.
Tom ignored the fact he was wearing dress shoes and broke into a slow jog. He inhaled deeply, in and out, clearing his mind, focusing on the pull and release of his muscles, the burn of cool air as it entered his lungs.
Sometimes when he ran it exhausted him enough to stop him from dreaming, too.
Sometimes
.
Tom stepped up a gear and ran faster.
He hoped tonight was one of those nights.
CHAPTER SEVEN
C
AITLIN
shut her eyes tight before opening them slowly, one at a time.
Ow. The sunlight felt as though it was burning her. She was like a vampire exposed to daylight when she should have been bathed in darkness instead. She tried to sit up and stuttered back down flat.
A hangover. She had a hangover. She never had a hangover!
She could hear her phone ringing, but it hurt too much to move. Caitlin leaned as far as she could off the bed without falling, eyes still shut, groping for the phone.
“Hello?” she croaked.
“Morning, sunshine.”
Lucy. “What… I mean how?” She rubbed at her eyes and gently tried to sit up again before slumping back down. “How can you be calling me this early?”
Lucy laughed. It sounded like glass being shattered to Caitlin. “It’s not early, silly, it’s after lunch.”
What? Caitlin groaned, looked at her bedside clock. No way. “Why do you sound so cheerful?” She was grumpy now.
“Why don’t you? I thought you went home with Mr. Navy.”
Caitlin flung herself back down again, stomach flip-flopping some more. Only it wasn’t the alcohol making her queasy this time.