The Protector (Game of Chance, #1)(24)

Every other time she’d been out here, Carlise had backed up and given Baxter space to eat. The last thing she wanted to do was scare the dog so he wouldn’t touch the food. But she trusted Riggs, so she did as he requested.

“I’m sorry I didn’t have rice before now. I didn’t know the stove had gas. How silly is that? I mean, I should’ve, but in my defense, I’m not much of a cook. Sometimes a bowl of cereal is just as satisfying as a four-course meal, ya know? But I bet you wouldn’t think so, huh? You’re looking like you’ve put on some weight . . . of course, that could just be wishful thinking on my part. You were so skinny. I can’t believe you’ve survived this long on your own. But you aren’t alone anymore, Bax. If you can learn to trust me, I’ll take you back to Cleveland when—um . . . when I’m sure it’s safe. Go on, eat up, boy. It’s good for you. Promise.”

She hadn’t meant to say that part about being safe, but the last thing she wanted was to take this dog back home, only to have her stalker decide to take out his anger on the defenseless animal. Baxter had been through enough. She didn’t want to risk him suffering through any more abuse.

She prayed Riggs hadn’t heard what she’d said . . . but she had a feeling he didn’t miss much.

“Good boy,” she murmured as Baxter sniffed the bowl she’d pushed under his nose. “That’s it. Eat it all up.”

The first time she saw the dog eat, she’d been surprised he hadn’t scarfed up the food in a couple of bites. As skinny as he was, she’d assumed he would be desperate for any kind of meal. But then, as now, he ate slowly, as if he knew inhaling the food might make it come back up.

“It’s good, huh?” she asked.

Baxter looked at her as if he understood what she was saying and licked his chops. Then his head dropped back into the bowl.

“He does look better than the last time I remember seeing him,” Riggs said softly.

Goose bumps immediately rose on her arms as his breath wafted over the sensitive skin of her neck. Riggs was crouched right behind her now, with his hand on her back and his mouth at her ear, and it took everything within Carlise not to lean back and curl into the man.

Delirious and out cold, he was handsome. Upright, conscious, and whispering to her in that low, sexy voice . . . he was lethal.

Carlise was a practical woman. She didn’t believe in love at first sight. She was wary of men in general. Their motives and their hidden intentions. But this man was getting under her skin without even trying. Maybe it was the way he’d asked for permission to touch her in the kitchen. Maybe it was how he’d said, without any embarrassment or ego, that he was a protector. Or perhaps it was because he’d insisted on making sure she was completely bundled up before going outside.

Whatever the reason, Carlise had a feeling this man would either be a dream come true or break her heart into a million pieces.

She nodded in response to Riggs’s comment and kept her eyes on Baxter. But the man behind her didn’t move away. He simply stayed where he was, the hand on her back never moving.

The wind didn’t seem to be howling quite as badly as it had the last few days, but the snow was still falling, and visibility continued to be extremely limited. She, Riggs, and Baxter could’ve been the only three beings on the planet. They were in their own little bubble.

“I think he needs some more blankets,” Riggs said after a moment. “I’ve got one inside that will be better than those. I got it in South Korea when I was there. It’s called a mink blanket, but it’s not real mink. I don’t know what it is, actually, but it’s thick and soft as hell. Maybe we can drape it over the logs so it’ll block more of the wind.”

Carlise’s heart melted. He sounded genuinely concerned about the dog. She turned to tell him she didn’t think he needed to sacrifice what sounded like a hard-to-replace blanket, but he was already moving away from her.

Baxter stopped eating and watched cautiously as Riggs backed toward the cabin door.

“It’s okay,” Carlise soothed. “He’s just going to get you another blanket.”

Within seconds, Riggs was back. “Here, I brought two. One we can put over the logs, and we’ll use a few to hold it down; the other he can have in his little nest for more warmth. I think it’s better if you do it, though. He doesn’t trust me as much as he does you.”

“I’ll put the one over the logs, but you push the other toward him. He needs to know you’ve got his best interests at heart too. And that you won’t hurt him. But let’s wait until he’s done eating.”

It seemed intimate, sitting there on the porch watching Baxter eat. Riggs sat behind her, one of his gloved hands resting on the wood planks of the porch, beside her hip, and the other curled around her waist, holding her against him. His body blocked some of the wind, and even though they were both bundled up so much there was no way she could feel his body heat, it still felt as if she was warmer against him.

Eventually, Baxter finished the food Carlise had made for him. He licked every inch of the bowl clean before looking up at her and Riggs.

“I wonder where he came from,” Riggs mused. “I mean, there isn’t any other cabin around for miles.”

“Someone probably dumped him,” Carlise said.

“Yeah, you’re most likely right,” he agreed. He shifted against her. “Okay, let’s do this. I’ll push this blanket toward him first, then you can attempt to drape the other one over the logs.”