6. Banks

Chapter 6

Banks

A week passes quickly at my house while Yvette slowly becomes an integral part of my life. Each day is like a familiar rhythm, punctuated by her laughter and the occasional exasperated groans as she struggles to work while recovering.

Honestly, it feels surreal to have her here, and I'm doing my best to be patient while also wrestling with this undeniable connection wrapping around us like an invisible force.

Mornings are my favorite. The sun spills into the kitchen, and the smell of coffee blended with pancakes permeates the air as I lay out breakfast. At least, this time, they really look and smell like pancakes.

"Wow, this looks good." Yvette sits on one of the stools at the breakfast bar.

"I'd reserve my opinion until I've tasted them," I respond, flipping a pancake on the pan.

But soon enough, the buzz of reality cuts in on our perfect morning. After a week of healing here at my house, she drops the bomb on me after breakfast.

"I'm going back to my office on Monday," she announces, shifting her position in the chair.

Just like that, the smile falls from my face as a knot of concern forms in my stomach. "What do you mean, back to work? You just got out of the hospital! You shouldn't be rushing into anything."

She glances over at me, and I can see the determination in her eyes. Fucking hell. The urge to hide her away in my house where I know she's safe battles with the desire to give her whatever she wants. No matter how hard it is for me. "I have clients to see in person. If I don't get back to work, things will stack up, and there are deadlines." She sighs.

"Okay. I'm going to hire a bodyguard," I blurt out. The moment the words leave my mouth, I realize they sound a lot more dramatic than I intended.

She stares at me like I've lost my mind and I think I might have. "A bodyguard? Are you freaking serious? I'm not some Hollywood starlet needing protection!"

"You definitely do need protection," I say, my voice softening. "You're a woman who literally got run off the road by a jackass. I can't just sit back and let you traipse around town with no one watching your back."

"I can take care of myself!" she protests, but I know I'm not backing down on this one. "I'm not going to let you hire some goon to babysit me while I work. That's ridiculous!"

"Yvette," I say firmly, trying to keep my tone steady. "Look, I get it. You're independent, and I admire that. But I'll be a total mess if I know you're out there without someone keeping an eye out for Richard. I couldn't focus on daily stuff knowing you could be in danger."

She looks down at her hands, the constant fidgeting giving away her uncertainty. I can tell she's wrestling with it, fighting the urge to give in.

"Please?" I try, a softer pitch slipping into my tone. "Just for a couple of weeks, until you're all healed up and feel ready to tackle the world again."

"Fine," she huffs reluctantly, finally conceding after a long silence. "But only because I know the caveman gene runs strong in the men in this freaking town."

I can't help but grin, feeling a rush of triumph. "You have no idea how hard I've been fighting my caveman gene," I admit.

"Obviously, you're not fighting it too hard," she mutters as a hint of amusement flits across her face.

It's way the fuck too early, but I'm up, dressed, and pacing my living room like it's a running track. Sunlight's barely breaking through the blinds, painting stripes across the hardwood floor, and even though Yvette's still snoozing away in the guest room, I'm already on edge planning for the week ahead. She's determined to dive back into her work life, and as much as I admire her drive, the idea of her out there without someone to keep her safe makes every protective bone in my body twitch.

I finally pick up my phone and make the call to Giant Carmichael. If there's anyone I trust to find the right person for protecting Yvette, it's Giant. A man as big as his name suggests, Giant owns his own security company. Plus, he's known for getting things done and keeping them low-key, which is a rare skill in a town with an active gossip grapevine like ours.

He picks up on the second ring, his booming voice like a force of nature even over the phone. "Why do all you fuckers insist on calling at an ungodly hour?"

"I need your help." I don't care if I woke the fucker up. "I need a bodyguard for my girl."

He chuckles, the sound deep and rumbling. "I heard a rumor the Silver Spoon Falls water had another victim, but I didn't believe the universe would be cruel enough to nerf your ass onto an unsuspecting woman."

"Fuck you," I grumble without heat, rubbing a hand over my face. "I thought the same thing when you met Bella."

"Touché, my friend," he grumbles before switching into professional mode. After I give him the entire story about Yvette's former coworker and the car accident, he tells me, "I've got just the person in mind. He's reliable, efficient, and invisible unless needed."

"That's what I need." Relief cuts through me as I dread the coming week a little less.

"Do you want my guy to drive her to work?"

"No. My little knockout would have my ass if I arranged for someone to drive her." That's another thing I need to arrange. My girl's car was destroyed beyond repair in the accident. Not necessarily a bad thing, considering I'd never let her drive the little tin can on wheels, anyway. Now, I need to convince her to drive my personal truck until I can buy her a big-ass safe vehicle. "I'll drive her to work."

"I'll make sure he's waiting at her office when she gets there Monday," he assures me.

"Thank you."

"Don't worry, you'll get my bill." He laughs. "It's a good thing you're rich ‘cause this is going to be a big bill."

"I'll pay whatever it takes to keep Yvette safe."

"I know."

The knot of worry eases somewhat. I'm happy we came to a compromise to ensure Yvette has the space and security to do her thing without me breathing down her neck, but I know it's going to be difficult to work while worrying about her.

As afternoon rolls around, Yvette finally emerges, looking refreshed and more determined than ever. We both know this weekend is all about getting her ready for the week ahead.

"Do you feel up to going to your apartment to pack a few things?" I ask, watching her scoop coffee into the machine like it's her lifeline.

She smirks over her shoulder. "Sure. Or I could just move back into my apartment." Her words are like a bucket of cold water to my face. When I see the smirk tugging at the edges of her pouty lips, I know she's fucking with me.

"I should whip your gorgeous ass for fucking with me like that," I grumble and pull her into my arms.

"Is that an option?" She wiggles her eyebrows, and my cock turns to stone in my pants. My little knockout is going to keep me on my toes.

"We'll talk about it after we pack your things."

"Promises, promises."

After breakfast, we hop into my truck, and the ride to Midnight Falls only takes us fifteen minutes. As soon as we pull up in front of the home, I can't help but appreciate the charm it exudes. It's an older home that's clearly aged with grace. It's well-maintained and full of character, just like the woman who owns it. The exterior is painted an odd shade of dark purple with crisp white trim that highlights the windows and door frames.

The wrap-around porch stretches across the front, offering a glimpse of sprawling rocking chairs and potted plants. Just off to the side, I spot the detached garage. Its doors are painted to match the house, and above it is a cozy apartment with a small balcony that peeks out over the garden below.

We spot Ms. Viola basking in one of the rockers with her iguana, Herman, stretched lazily across the porch railing next to her.

The elderly woman sits on her porch every day in an old floral nightgown with curlers in her hair and a cigarette hanging from her mouth. On Halloween, the town legend gives out candy to the kids and small bottles of bourbon to the adults.

"Morning, Ms. Viola," I call out, giving a cheerful wave as we step out of the truck.

She peers at us over her oversized sunglasses, offering a toothy grin. "Morning, Mr. Phoenix. Did you kidnap my tenant?"

"No, ma'am." I know Romi already explained the situation to her. "She's been staying with me while she recovers from her accident. We're here to pack a few things for her."

Ms. Viola looks at me, her gaze as piercing as a hawk. "You had better take care of her or you'll have Herman here to answer to." There's warmth in the old woman's words.

At that moment, Herman flicks his tongue as if to emphasize her threat, and I can't help but chuckle.

"Promise I'll be on my best behavior," I assure her.

Yvette laughs, shaking her head at Ms. Viola. "Thanks for your concern, Ms. Viola."

"Anytime, my dear," she calls behind us as we head around the side of her massive home to the apartment above her garage.

When we step inside, I'm struck by how much the room seems to reflect Yvette's vibrant personality. I glance around at the mix of law books and whimsical art filling the room.

Quickly, we gather some clothes and essentials for the week, and I help keep the momentum light with my half-serious complaints about the contents of ladies' closets.

"You know, this isn't a bad way to spend a weekend," I tell her, tossing a shirt into the half-packed suitcase.

"Running errands?" she asks, quirking a brow. "You must lead a very boring life."

"You have no idea." She really doesn't. Overcoming the tendency of people to believe I'm useless since I was born wealthy wasn't easy. Even in this town with more millionaires and billionaires than anything, no one wanted to take me seriously when I tried to join the academy. It took hard work and determination to not only graduate but to advance to Assistant Chief.

Once we load up the truck, we head over to my place. I take her soft hand in mine and bring it to my lips to place light kisses on her knuckles while my cock hardens until I'm pretty sure it's causing damage. Waiting for my little knockout to make the first move is going to kill me, but I'll do whatever it takes to prove to her I'm in this for the long haul.