It looks like Mother Nature has finally taken pity on us--the weather forecast has temps considerably lower here for the next week than they've been in a long time. Woohoo! Still a tad warmer than I'd like, but after so many days of upper 90s to over 100 degrees, fifteen to twenty degrees lower is going to be amazing. Haha! I think we'll get in a trip to see the local minor league baseball team this week with the more tolerable weather, and the yard may not be as crispy as it's been.
I am still dreaming about the beach, though. I was looking at the PTO I still need to schedule to use before the end of the year and pondering whether I can sneak in at least an overnight. We'll see. But I bet some of you already have beach trips in the works for the last few weeks of summer, and if you do, I have some reading material suggestions for you on my Books page, plus an excerpt this week from Protecting Medusa.
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Ryder caught her wrist when she started to push her chair back. “I want to talk to you and Aggie,” he said quietly when his son had left the room.
Her mother linked her hands and rested her chin on them, concern lining her brow. “What’s wrong, Ryder?”
“I’ve been following a Harvester.”
Philomena tugged her hand free and clasped her fingers in her lap, looking at her half-empty plate. Her stomach squeezed, and she was grateful she’d hardly eaten.
“Met him here earlier, right, Mena?”
Her mother’s gasp made her shoot a glare at him.
“I think you should take Jason to Mena’s tonight, Aggie. Just in case.”
“I think you’re right,” her mother said after a moment. “How did he find us?”
One of his big shoulders lifted. “I wish I could say for sure, Aggie, but I imagine they’re just tracing families like when Kallan was still hunting. But this guy seems to know, or at least to believe, that Mena’s the Medusa. He’s been in town for two days, checking out the lay of the land, driving by the house.” His dark gaze slid to Philomena’s face. “I’m going after him again.”
She swallowed, feeling a little guilty for wishing he’d leave, and averted her gaze.
“Will you go right away, Aggie?”
“Well, yes. But what about the two of you?” Her mother got to her feet, her frown deepening as she looked from one of them to the other.
“We’ll be fine here for tonight,” he said. He rose and caught one of Aggie’s hands. “I’ve got a buddy coming tomorrow to upgrade your alarm system, though. Everything needs to be sensored, not just the first floor. This guy came in upstairs.”
Her mother shut her eyes, no doubt imagining what would have happened if she and Jason had been home, or if the Harvester had come in the middle of the night. “Whatever you think is best, Ryder.” She squeezed his hand. “Let me get some things together.”
That left Philomena alone with him, and the tension ratcheted a few degrees higher.
“You don’t think he’ll come back, do you? Tonight, I mean?” She remained seated, not wanting to bump into him while she cleared away the remains of their meal, keeping her gaze on the table. Flitting from her plate to the leftover peas and sloppy joes. The open bag of rolls. Jason’s empty plate.
“I don’t know. He seems to believe this is your primary residence, which means your mother and Jason need to be out for now. But I winged him earlier, so he’ll have to patch himself up first.” He inhaled deeply. “We’ll be fine until my buddy gets here.”
She arched one eyebrow. “‘We’?”
His lips curved into a cocky smile that made goosebumps lift on her arms. “Yeah. I think I can protect you.”
“Who’ll protect me from you?” It was out before she could stop it, and she colored again.
“If you need protection from me, I’m sure you’ll do fine. You wear your knife all the time, right?”
“Not to bed.” Dammit, what is wrong with my mouth? More heat crawled up her throat to her face.
“Well, that’s reassuring,” he drawled, his eyes darkening. “Why don’t you let me help you clean up?”
“Why don’t you go sit with Jason?” she countered, pushing to her feet. Standing made her feel slightly better, though he still towered over her by a good six inches. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to catch you up on his show.” She carried her plate to the sink and scraped the remains of her meal into the disposal, turning it on and drowning out any response he might have made.
When she turned around, she saw his back as he went into the living room, where Jason greeted him enthusiastically. The back looked as good as the front, she admitted, faded jeans clinging to a tight ass, strong thighs and calves.
“Gods,” she muttered, shutting her eyes. Her hormones ought to have settled since her three days of exile were over till next month.
She very deliberately didn’t think about him while she put away the leftovers and started the dishwasher. Or about the intent look in his eyes earlier, right before he kissed her. Instead, she focused on the website she was creating for a new client.
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Besides all the usual day-job crazy this coming week and maybe a baseball game, I have a couple fun things planned, like the annual visit to the gem show nearby--we'll see what kind of pretty things I can find there this year, maybe some tumbled stones or a new ring?--and on Friday, August 16, 2024, you can find me visiting Delilah Devlin's blog. I'd love if you popped by to chat with us!
In the meantime, I've got some dinner prep to finish up, and then more revisions while we watch the closing ceremony of the Olympics. What are you reading this week? I'd love to hear!
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