I knew exactly who it was.

I could tell not just because he was standing next to his father that looked like he could pass as the man’s brother, but also because he looked a lot like his sister.

“Denny Jane,” he said, not offering me his hand.

I gave him a nod, but said no more.

Brock, however, went about introducing us.

“Denny,” Brock said. “This is Lennie’s boyfriend, Bennett. He’s a SWAT officer with the KPD. That’s his daughter with your mom and sister. She’s seven?”

That last part was directed at me, and I nodded my head.

“Eight,” I confirmed.

“Lennie doesn’t have boyfriends,” he said after he studied me for a while. “She doesn’t like to be tied down.”

I raised a brow at him. “Does she now?”

Denny narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re saying I’m lying?”

I shook my head. “No. I’m just saying she changed her mind.”

Brock snorted. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were going out with Melanie tonight.”

Denny crossed his arms over his chest.

“Apparently, surprising her wasn’t the ‘right’ thing to do.” He let out a low breath. “Because when I surprised her that I had gotten off work early, I found her in our computer room skyping some man half way around the country. Not only that, but she was dressed up as a dominatrix, and giving dirty commands to some man that had his balls strapped into some medieval torture device.”

Silence descended as we digested that information.

“So…do you want a beer?” I asked him.

He looked at me, then nodded his head. “Yeah. A beer would be fucking great.”

Needless to say, I forgave his behavior.

The man deserved much more than a beer.

Chapter 11

May the bridges I burn light the way.

-Coffee Cup

Lennox

“I’m not staying with you. I’ve got a perfectly good house, with a perfectly good alarm system,” I said for the tenth time.

Bennett narrowed his eyes at me.

“Fine. But I want you to call me if you don’t feel safe. Call me day or night. Okay?” He ordered softly, touching the apple of my cheek with the very tips of his fingers.

I nodded.

I needed my meds, and I couldn’t take them with him here. Because with the ‘I have to take my meds’ explanation came a much more, ‘why do you have to take them’ explanation.

One I didn’t want to have right then.

“Yes, Bennett. I’ll call you if I need you,” I sighed.

Paxton came out on the front stoop just as I was closing my front door, and I smiled, letting the door open wide to allow Cola and Paxton inside.

“Thanks for taking care of her,” I said happily, bending down on my haunches to wrap my arms around Cola’s thick neck.

She licked me happily, and I had to stand unless I wanted to be wearing a string of drool on my body from her excitement.

Paxton snorted and pointed to my belly.

I grimaced as I looked down at the wet spot.

“At least I’m not going to work!” I managed.

He nodded. “That you aren’t. Looks like things are serious,” he said, tilting his head in the direction of Bennett’s retreating truck.

I nodded, then grimaced.

“Yeah, I guess,” I hesitated. “I really like him. But you know how I am with guys. I don’t want to become dependent on him.”

Paxton waited for me to continue, but when I didn’t, he shook his head.

“Lennie,” he said, scooting closer to me and drawing me into a hug. “There’s no reason on this earth that you shouldn’t pursue this. So you’ve had a few bad turns. That’s no reason to write off every man. Especially that man.”

I could hear the complete truthfulness in his voice and knew he was right.

That still didn’t erase nearly ten years of bad dates, and sleepless nights of crying that I’d done over men just like him.

“You could be right,” I admitted. “But I’m not ready to go any further than what I’m doing right now. I’ll stay the odd night with him, but I’m not giving him all of me until I’m certain that he’ll take care of it.”

We both knew I was talking about my heart.

It was a fragile thing.

Full of cracks, chips, and breaks that’d been pasted back together by sheer stubbornness and pure determination not to become a simpering whiner who couldn’t function without a man.

I knew there was something different about Bennett. However, I also knew that it’d probably be all the harder for him to bust through my shields to what was underneath.

I wanted to be worth a man’s effort.

And if Bennett was the one, he’d be able to break through those shields.

I was already halfway in love with the man, but my protective instincts always had a way of freezing me in my tracks before I took that final leap.

“So you’re seeing him again,” Paxton stated.

And it was a statement.

He knew I was going to see him again.

It wasn’t a matter of if, it was a matter of when.

“Yeah, this Saturday. They’re having an Easter egg hunt at the place where I stayed last night. The Free compound out off of Highway 42. Have you heard of it?” I asked, moseying into my kitchen to make myself a sandwich.

Dinner had been hours ago, and I was fairly sure I was wasting away.

Or at least my stomach thought that.

“I’ve seen it. Not really heard of it, though. Make me one,” he instructed as he took a seat at my bar and started flipping through my mail.

Paxton had a problem.

He couldn’t keep still without fiddling with something. Whether it be doodling on a piece of paper, flipping a pen around his fingers, or chewing his fingernails.

He always had to have his hands busy.

Which was why he’d found the bill for my new meds, and winced.

“Oooouch,” he shuddered. “This the new stuff?”

I nodded. “Yep.”

While I was in the fridge, I went ahead and got my meds that I took before bedtime.

“My numbers are perfect, though. Although they got a little out of whack last night because I didn’t take them,” I told him, removing the vial and walking over to the counter.

I’d had to have my dad bring me my meds at lunch today, and he’d done so with only a tiny bit of annoyance.

It helped that I’d been sopping wet thanks to that whore, Joslin.

He’d only handed the stuff over and left, not wanting to deal with my mood.

Paxton watched as I drew up my insulin, then injected it into my stomach.

It was like breathing to me, now.

It was something that I had to do, and I did no matter what.

It was a part of me, and I’d never have a day in my life that I didn’t have to inject myself with insulin.

I was type one diabetic, and had been doing it since I was two years of age.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve brought it to you,” he said, chastising me gently.

I shrugged. “I’d taken it right before I went over there, and I knew I’d be able to take my morning meds once I got my dad to bring them to me. It wasn’t a big deal.”

Except dad had been late, and I hadn’t noticed.

“You’ll have to tell him if you plan to spend any amount of time with him,” he surmised, knowing exactly why I hadn’t taken my meds last night.

I wrinkled my nose up at him.

“That’s…”

He interrupted me before I could voice my lie.

“It’s not a disease that you’re dying from. It’s diabetes. And not even one that was caused by your diet or lack of exercise. It’s genetic. Something that you were born with,” Paxton said in exasperation.

I stuck my tongue out at him.

“He’ll know eventually if I deem it necessary,” I hedged.

Paxton sighed.

“He’s going to think you have a drug problem if you wait too long. If you spend more than three or four hours with him during the day, he’ll see you having to go to the bathroom. And insulin has to be refrigerated. You can’t just keep it all in your cooler and expect him not to notice it,” Paxton laughed.