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  Troy knew the feeling. “Sounds about right.”

  “Can I get you some tea while you work?” Shelby asked, breathless from just standing.

  “How about you just get off your feet and rest? Focus on making that baby wait.”

  An hour later, Troy found Shelby asleep on the couch. He left her a note that the alarm system was up and running and locked her door behind him. At least one more house in this area would be secure tonight.

  Allison crossed his mind again.

  Not my concern, he told himself, taking the long way home and driving by her town house just to make sure all was hunky-dory. His patrol was only on base. Not Seaside and definitely not Allison’s home, fake boyfriend or not.

  He went home, showered, and grabbed a beer, feeling a jab of loneliness that he hadn’t felt in a while. He liked being home alone usually. He considered going to Heroes to share a drink with one of the guys, maybe even buy a drink for a pretty lady and have fun flirting.

  Allison was the only pretty lady he was interested in flirting with, though. This whole boyfriend thing was playing with his mind. But after Christmas, it’d be over. He couldn’t wait.

  Chapter 6

  It had been a busy Sunday. First church, then Allison had done a few hours of shopping that included running into Troy, followed up by dinner with a few of her girlfriends. Now it was after midnight and she was tucked into her comfy bed, staring at the ceiling. She should have been exhausted, but her eyes were wide open and her brain had Troy on repeat.

  His sexy grin was burned into her memory. He’d had a five-o’clock shadow earlier in the day, which had her wondering how it’d feel to have that new growth of hair tickling against her skin. How would it feel to have him kiss her cheek, her mouth, her body? She closed her eyes and let herself entertain that thought, because she may have been single, but she wasn’t dead. She ran a hand along her skin, imagining that it was Troy’s. He was her pretend boyfriend after all. They might as well have pretend sex.

  Yeah.

  She reached for her vibrator in the drawer of her bedside table. Thankfully, she’d purchased batteries during her afternoon shopping trip. Her vibrator could go all night, just like her pretend boyfriend would. Shimmying out of her pajama pants, she imagined Troy yanking them off her. Then she let her imagination run wild. Her vibrator, too, until she was panting, moaning—why not, no one was home to hear her. She even let herself whisper his name, which ramped up her arousal. His dark eyes burned into her memory.

  “Oh, Troy…” Just saying his name out loud sent shivers through her. “Troy…Yeah, right—”

  A noise outside startled her out of what was building up to be a noteworthy orgasm. Allison pulled the vibrator to her chest, turned it off to cancel out the motor’s buzz, and blinked in the darkness, her heart suddenly beating out of fear.

  Maybe it was one of the stray cats that sometimes lingered outside. She sat up and listened, hearing nothing.

  Yeah. It was a cat. That’s all.

  She inhaled and blew out a slow breath.

  Then the sound of her doorknob turning jarred the breath inside her.

  Oh, God. Someone was at her door. And they weren’t knocking; they were breaking in!

  She scurried back into her clothing, heart beating so hard she could barely breathe. Where was her cellphone? She glanced around the dark room. She couldn’t turn on her light; the robber would know she was home. What if he came after her? She felt around on her nightstand, grabbed her phone, and ran toward her closet, shutting herself inside.

  Why the hell didn’t closets have locks?

  She’d dead-bolted the front door, but that didn’t stop robbers who were determined. There’d been a lot of talk of recent break-ins in her area. Thus the whole reason she was raising money for Mercy’s Place. She listened hard, trying not to breathe or make any noise. Was the robber inside her home? Still outside? Her heart was beating so forcefully she couldn’t hear.

  She pressed the button on her phone, making her screen light up. She couldn’t call 9-1-1 and talk to an operator. What if the sound of her voice alerted her intruder that she was calling the authorities? What if he decided he had to take her out?

  Texting was quiet, though. Allison pulled up her list of contacts and paused at Troy’s name. He’d been the last person to text her. And he lived close by. He was a police officer and…

  Her fingers tapped along the keyboard onscreen.

  PLEASE HELP ME! SOMEONE’S BREAKING INTO MY HOME RIGHT NOW!

  She waited, praying that he was still awake and had his phone on him.

  Please, God. Please, God. She was ready to pass out from fear as she listened for any sign that someone was in her town house. There was another noise, but she couldn’t decide if it was inside or outside her front door.

  The screen of her phone lit up with an incoming text.

  ON MY WAY. HIDE!

  She hugged the phone to her body. The closet wasn’t exactly the best hiding place, but as long as the intruder didn’t see her face…Because if he saw her face, he’d have to kill her, right? Or had she watched too many mob movies?

  No one was going to get her, though. Troy was coming. He’d help her.

  She nodded to herself, fighting back tears.

  —

  Troy called 9-1-1, then he climbed into his truck and pressed the gas. He’d beat the cops. Her town house was only a five-minute trip. He’d make it there in three minutes, tops.

  And God help any intruder he found sniffing around her home.

  Troy rounded the corner onto Allison’s road. His truck fishtailed onto the shoulder before he corrected and plowed forward. A minute later, he squealed into her driveway and hopped out, gun at his side. He left his lights on. The local police department knew him since he sometimes worked with them on cases that involved Camp Leon. He’d given them the heads-up that he’d be here, too. Scanning his surroundings, he approached Allison’s front door, which had obviously been tampered with. The idiot burglar dropped the credit card he used to get the lock open.

  Troy pulled some gloves out of his pocket to avoid getting fingerprints everywhere, slipped them on, and retrieved the card. The name on the card was a female’s. Probably one of the previous robbery victims. “Allison?” He stepped inside the dark living room, glancing around for evidence of foul play. Looked like the intruder never made it inside, though. Probably heard his tires squealing on the way here and ran off. Good thing for him because Troy would’ve had a mind to punch the asshole once or twice, just enough to keep him unconscious into the new year. For self-defense, of course.

  “Allison?”

  He walked down a long hallway toward her bedroom. Approaching sirens could be heard outside.

  “Allison?” Stepping inside her room, Troy looked around. The covers were turned down. Allison must’ve been in bed sleeping when she’d heard the noise of someone trying to break in. Good thing she’d woken up. What would’ve happened if she’d interrupted the burglary?

  Troy walked toward the closet, where his gut told him he’d find her. He’d told her to hide, and the closet was always the first place people ran to. Troy had even apprehended a few Marines hiding in their closets. Granted, both of those times the Marines had been slobbering drunk.

  He opened the closet door and a woman’s scream knocked him back several feet. Follow that with the police coming in through the front door and Troy was thoroughly thrown off balance.

  “Sergeant Matthews from Camp Leon!” Troy shouted down the hall, to prevent himself from being tackled. Or worse, shot at, by the officers walking in.

  Allison leaped out of the closet and threw her arms around his neck. “Oh my God! You came!”

  Troy’s arms contracted around her. “ ’Course I came, baby. You called.”

  Her breathing shook against him. “I was so scared. There were noises outside and I heard someone messing with my lock.”

  “They must’ve run off when they saw me coming. Th
ey even left the credit card they used to pick your lock.” He handed it to the officer behind him.

  “It belongs to the woman who was robbed a few nights ago,” the officer said, looking at it.

  Troy nodded. “I figured. The other robberies didn’t happen with the owner in the home, did they?”

  “No. But Ms. Carmichael’s car is in the garage. Maybe the intruder thought she wasn’t home,” the officer said.

  Allison pulled back from Troy’s embrace and looked at him. “What if he comes back?”

  “I don’t think he’d be that stupid.”

  She swallowed, then took another step away, creating more distance between them. Pity because Troy had kind of liked the feel of her in his arms. “All I have is a baseball bat. And I’m not a good swing.”

  The police officers gestured toward the front door. “We’re going to go see if there’s anything suspicious outside. Otherwise, we’ll file a report, but there’s not much else we can do. I agree with Sergeant Matthews. Your intruder is not likely to come back to this location. He’ll probably hit another house around here, though, judging by the fact that you’re the fourth house in two weeks in a two-mile radius. We’ve been patrolling regularly and we’ll continue to do so.”

  The officers filed out and Allison hugged her arms around her body. “Thank you. And thank you for getting here so quickly.” She looked at Troy. “You, too. It felt like forever waiting in that closet, but I had my phone. You got here in less than three minutes. You must’ve flown here.”

  Troy leaned in. “My secret’s out. I’m really Superman under this T-shirt.”

  She laughed and punched his chest lightly. He resisted catching her hand and pulling her back against him. “I still don’t want you to call me baby,” she said. “But you get a pass tonight for saving me.”

  “Where’s the baseball bat?” he asked.

  Her brow furrowed. “I was kidding about that.”

  “You don’t really have one?”

  “No, I do, but I’d never use it on someone.”

  Troy tipped his chin toward his chest. “Not even a burglar who might hurt you?”

  She blinked. “Do you think he would’ve hurt me?”

  “Not if he wanted to live.” Troy scanned her bedroom again. “The bat should be by your bed. Any weapon is better than no weapon.” His gaze fell on her nightstand now, where there was definitely something beside her bed. A six-inch purple, glittery something. He looked at Allison again and her cheeks lit up like Rudolph’s nose. “I’m not sure you’ll scare anyone away waving that thing around.”

  She rushed toward the nightstand and took the vibrator and shoved it in the drawer. “That’s an, um, massager for my, uh, back. I use it on my back.”

  He grinned, enjoying how flustered she suddenly was. “I can stay the night if you need me to.”

  Her eyes widened. “Listen, I don’t know what you think that was, but I’m not looking for a man to meet those kind of needs.”

  “What kind of needs?” he asked, knowing good and well what kind she was referring to.

  “You know, the sexual kind,” she said in a hushed voice. “Truly, that was for my neck.”

  “You said back.” He laughed a little under his breath and shook his head. “And I’m offering to stay for your protection. Not that you need protection with a vibrator. Very low risk there.”

  Her lips parted.

  “Kidding. I don’t want you to stay here alone tonight. Not because I think you’re in danger, but I think you’d feel a lot safer if you weren’t alone tonight.”

  Allison softened a touch. “You don’t have to do that. I can call a friend.”

  “At one a.m.?”

  She pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “Right. Everyone’s sleeping.”

  “And your friends aren’t going to be much help if the guy does come back. Not unless they’re Marines or police officers.” He pointed to himself. “Or both. I can sleep on the couch. You won’t even know I’m here.”

  “Well, I guess I would feel better with you here. If you don’t mind.”

  “I insist, actually.”

  The Seaside police officers walked back into the room. “We couldn’t find anything outside. We’ll be patrolling and continuing to keep an eye out for suspicious activity, though.”

  “Thank you,” Allison said. She walked the police officers to the front door. Troy went to his truck, turned off the lights, and locked it up. Then he returned to the porch, where Allison was blocking his entry.

  “I mean it. I don’t want this to mean anything. When a man stays the night in a woman’s home, he might get the wrong idea.”

  “I have the right idea. I’m not looking for someone to meet my sexual needs, either. I don’t have a purple woman pleaser, but I’ll survive.” He winked, then laughed as Allison huffed. She stepped aside and let him through, quickly locking the door behind her.

  He headed toward her couch. “I’ll stay right here all night. Unless you call me.”

  Allison stared at him for a long moment. “Okay. Well, I’ll just be in my bedroom. Unless you call me. Good night, Troy.”

  “Good night,” he called, lying back and rolling onto his side. She’d sleep better with him here, he guessed, but he wouldn’t be sleeping at all. Not with his imagination going wild with fantasies of Allison using that vibrating wand on herself.

  —

  Allison was staring at the ceiling again. She didn’t want to fall asleep. Oh, God. She was mortified about the vibrator. Her eyes started to close; her breathing became shallow. Things would seem better in the morning—she hoped.

  A few hours later, sunlight slanted in through her blinds, poking her in the eyes and nudging her awake. It felt like she’d just gone to sleep…and had a very bad nightmare. Which wasn’t a nightmare at all, she feared. Troy Matthews was in the living room on her couch.

  She smacked a hand to her face, not intending the force behind it. Her skin stung from the impact. At least that removed some of the sting of the memories of last night.

  Note to self: Even if someone is breaking into your house, hide your vibrator first. At all costs.

  Allison slipped her feet into a pair of pale yellow slippers. She went to the bathroom first, ran a brush through her unruly red hair, and gargled some mouthwash. Then she made the walk of shame out into the living room, where Troy was asleep on her sofa. She stopped for a moment and stared at him, getting a free pass to observe the details of his face right now: his full lips, outlined by what was now a thick onset of beard. He had long eyelashes that made her a bit jealous, and a thin white scar that ran across a corner of his forehead.

  His nose twitched. Then he sneezed.

  Allison startled as his eyes opened and locked on hers.

  “Good morning,” he said in a scratchy, barely awake voice.

  “Good morning. I was just, um, going to make some coffee. Do you like coffee?”

  “I love coffee,” he said, stretching his arms over his chest, which she realized now was bare under the blanket he’d pulled up from the back of the couch.

  Curiosity moved through her. She’d spent time looking at his face. Now she wanted him to return to sleep so she could have a good, long look at his chest. Hairy or bare? Did he have one of those six-pack abs that begged someone to run their fingers over them?

  “Great. I’ll go make us some.” She scooted toward the open kitchen coming off her living room. That was one of the problems with having a small town house. The only real place to get away was her bedroom. Not that she had many guests stay overnight, and never any of the male kind anymore.

  She poured the grounds into a filter, ran the water through the coffee brewer, and turned it on. From the corner of her eye she saw Troy sit up, his bare back turned to her. Her gaze lingered along his tanned skin. His shoulder blades were deeply defined as was the line that ran along the center of his back, dividing him into two glorious pieces. No tattoos, she noted. At least not on the back.
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  “Can I offer you breakfast?” she asked, hoping he’d turn. She just needed one little peek at the front of his body.

  “Sure. Whatever you normally have is fine with me. I’m not picky.” He spoke over his shoulder.

  Darn.

  Allison walked to her fridge and dipped to look inside. She had a loaf of bread in her extra freezer in the laundry room. She could make French toast. “I’ll be right back,” she said, heading in that direction. She lifted the lid of her freezer, mentally chiding herself all the way.

  This was crazy. She didn’t need to be making Troy breakfast. She needed to be kicking him out of her home right now. If people knew that he’d stayed overnight, they’d get the wrong idea and think that she and Troy were…Her cheeks flushed just thinking about it. Her imagination had taken liberties with Troy last night, before the attempted break-in. And after.

  Allison straightened with the frozen loaf of bread and realized there were voices coming from the front room.

  A male and a female’s voice. Troy’s and someone else’s.

  She had company, and a lot of explaining to do.

  Chapter 7

  “Mom? What are you doing here?”

  Allison’s heart exploded like an airbag on impact, riding up her throat and making it hard to swallow.

  Troy turned toward Allison, in bare-chested glory. Yes, she’d wanted him to be bare chested a moment earlier so that she could get a glimpse, but now her mother had also gotten a glimpse. And crap! Not only was he bare chested, but he was in his boxer shorts. Not that she would’ve expected him to sleep in jeans all night, but…

  Allison pinned a smile to her face, like one of those posts that you want all of your Facebook friends to see first before they see anything else that says everything in your life is hunky-dory. The one you should never believe.

  The one her mother always saw through immediately.

  “I thought it’d be nice to bring you your favorite breakfast this morning.” Her mother held up a brown paper bag from the Seaside Café. Allison could almost smell the sugar on the large cinnamon roll, her favorite since childhood.