Page 42 of Winning His Wager

She shocked the hell out of him when she almost threw herself into his hold, and her arms tightened around him. Fletcher wanted to promise right then to never let her go. He kissed her on her damp hair and just held her for a moment. “Wait here. I’ll shower real quick. I’ll give you a ride in myself.”

“I can take my daughter,” Talley said, eyes narrowed on Fletcher as if he knew exactly what Fletcher wanted from his precious baby girl now.

And he’d give her another one of the lectures Fletcher had already witnessed too many times. No more. Never again. The man was never getting the opportunity to talk to her like that again. Fletcher was going to make sure of it. “That’s just not going to happen.”

Her father wasn’t going to be allowed to hurt her, not on Fletcher’s watch. Dylan had been hurt enough.

26

The sound camewhen he was just about to get out of bed for the day early the next morning. It was a bit early for him, but Fletcher hadn’t been sleeping all that well lately.

Not since the moment he’d realized he wanted his housekeeper much more than he could breathe.

He’d dreamed about her again. About what he wanted to do to her.

Leaving him turned on and hard as a rock and hungry. For her. Every single night.

He suspected she was starting to catch on now. He’d brush against her, and she’d jump like the proverbial scalded cat. And would look at him, like she was a bit nervous and everything.

He was hunting, and he knew it. He just had his prey right in his house, where she belonged.

It felt right, having her there. He wasn’t a fool. He felt more like he was at home again, instead of just in the house his parents had loved each other in. Charlotte’s words at the dance had sunk in later that night.

He’d finally figured it out.

Dylan made him feel like he was finallyhome. Like it was a home again and not just the place he slept now.

He and his brothers had long ago packed up all of his father and mother’s things and sold or donated what they could part with. What they couldn’t part with had been kept for future generations. But the chair she’d reupholstered for him had been his father’s chair.

The extralong dining table had been one his uncle had made and given his parents so long ago. But Dylan had refinished it and made it gleam again. She was already pestering him about painting the wooden paneling on half of the walls. Bringing it up to this century, she’d teased him. Make it brighter.

Told him he wouldn’t want to raise his Fletcherlings in a dark cave someday when he caught some unsuspecting townie to be his Tyler bride like Ben had her poor, innocent big sister. He was a Tyler—they were good at making more of themselves, she’d heard. He’d probably want lots and lots of Fletcherlings someday and everything.

She made it brighterfor him just by being there. Period.

He was going to have to take it slow—even if he wanted to get her nakedfast.

The sound came again. Fletcher jumped out of the bed, not bothering with anything more than the gym shorts he slept in now.

It had come from her. From the room right next to his.

His parents had always wanted Nikki right next door to them, especially when she’d been really young. Nikki not being able to see well had scared his mother a little. Made her afraid, especially in the case of a fire or something. His dad had cut into a large closet to give Nikki a full bathroom when she’d been twelve. Fletcher and his brothers had shared the bathroom at the end of the hall.

The walls weren’t thick enough to hide the sound. He knew what he was hearing.

Her door was open an inch. Sometimes, she got up in the middle of the night. He’d caught her before, wandering around a little. Sitting in the big bay window in front of his house, watching outside. Looking all sad and quiet and hurting.

This time, she was crying. It stabbed right at him.

He flicked on the bedside lamp. “Dylan, honey, what’s wrong? I’m here.”

She wasn’t asleep. She was sitting up. Tears were all on her cheeks, and she was pulling in deep breaths. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

“No. I was getting up soon, anyway.”

“Nightmare. Got me again. They have been my buddies since moving here, actually.”

“Here? To my place?” It made sense. She’d moved in with him just two days after that damned Dale Fisher could have killed her. Fletcher still burned when he remembered what could have happened to her, to Meyra. Even to Brandt, a man he considered a friend. Hell, it had barely been a month ago. “You are safe here. With me.”