Page 21 of Aspen's Defense

"Why are you here?"

He eyes me levelly.

"I mean, if you're just here because Nash asked you to look after me, you don't have to act like this is more than that, Noah. It won't hurt my feelings. But I'd rather know now than after…"

"After what?"

"Nothing," I mumble. "I'd just rather know now."

He leans down, gently placing Brick on the floor. As he straightens, his gaze locks on mine, and my mouth goes dry. That look in his eyes… Lord. It pierces right through me, making my knees weak.

He paces toward me, moving like a leopard on the prowl.

"You think I'm here because of Nash, Aspen?"

"I don't…" I lick my lips. Now that I've said it out loud, it sounds crazy. "I don't know."

"He asked me to keep an eye on you, but he isn't the reason my fucking heart stopped beating when you called me this morning." He takes another step toward me and then another. "He isn't the reason I didn't sleep last night." Another step. "He isn't the reason I can still taste you on my tongue." He stops in front of me, still holding my gaze. "And he damn sure isn't going to be the reason I put a ring on your finger as soon as you let me."

"I…" I swallow hard, rendered speechless, perhaps for the first time in my life.

"I'm exactly where I want to be, protecting the one thing in this town that matters." He slides his hand around the back of my neck, pulling me into him. His lips brush my forehead. "And I'm not going anywhere, so you might as well get used to it now."

Well, I guess that's clear enough, isn't it?

"Here," he says a few minutes later, dropping a photo album in front of me. "These are the photos the sheriff wants you to look through."

"Dillon."

"What?"

"His name is Dillon. He isn't the kind of sheriff who likes to be calledthe sheriff." I stare at the photo album. It's a nondescript black, and a lot thicker than I thought it would be. "I thought he was just sending a couple of photos."

"He wants you to go through all the photos he's got of people matching the descriptions you gave him," Noah says. "And what kind of sheriff doesn't like to be called sheriff?"

"Dillon," I answer, flipping open the album. I'm not sure what I expected, but it's just photos. Most of them aren't even mugshots. They're five-by-eight images of men against plain blue backgrounds. I flip through several pages, surprised at how many of them are familiar.

"You know most of the men in town, Dimples?"

"Most of the ones who come into the shop regularly."

He grunts…whatever that means. "You have a lot of men coming in?"

"Sometimes." I flip to the next page, examining those photos. Neither of them is the guys from the shop, either. I think one of them might be the mayor's brother, though. He looks like the mayor, anyway. "Why?"

"No reason," Noah mutters.

I bite my lip, fighting a smile. Is he jealous? "Are you worried you have competition?"

"There is no competition. You're mine," he growls.

He's right. There is no competition. I've never even considered dating any of the men who have asked me out at the shop. I simply wasn't interested. Noah, though? He's in a category all on his own.

"Maybe I'll spend some time at the shop when you go back to work. Make sure no one is fucking with you."

I can't fight my smile this time. I turn to look at him over my shoulder. "You're crazy, you know that, right?"

He narrows his eyes at me. "Look through the photos, Dimples. We have shit to do."