Chance: A Small Town, Enemies to Lovers, Protector Romance (Ghost Ops Book 2)
Chance: Chapter 30

Rory wasn’t usedto having anyone in the house with her for days on end, but she and Chance had almost slipped into a routine. After dinner, he cleaned up the dishes and then went outside to make sure the chickens were closed into the coop and to check on the barn and the garden.

They often watched television, which wasn’t typically something she got to do in the evenings since she was almost always at the Dawg. She was going to have to figure that out after the baby came. Maybe Emma Grace would babysit sometimes. She was fairly certain that Ellen Sutton would leap at the chance, especially since Mrs. Sutton was the closest thing her baby would have to a grandmother.

There was time to figure it out. It did not have to be tonight.

Chance returned inside just as Rory emerged from her bedroom, comfy pajama pants and sweatshirt donned for the evening. Her belly fluttered as Chance turned from the door. He was still wearing that darn form-fitting polo and dark jeans, and his dark hair made him look like one of her vampire romance heroes.

Well, maybe not really, but a girl could fantasize. Maybe she could get him to wear a cape. Hmm…

“Do you want to watch TV?” she blurted. The last thing she needed was to go back to her minotaur romance, and she really didn’t want to think about vampires either. Television was a good distraction. A necessary one.

It was either that or go to her room and lock the door, which she didn’t really want to do.

“Yeah, sure. Let me put on something more comfortable.”

“Of course.”

When he lifted the edge of the polo, she squeaked. “Whoa, there. What are you doing?”

“Changing.”

“Chance. There’s a bathroom for heaven’s sake. Or one of the bedrooms I keep offering you.”

He tugged the shirt off anyway, revealing his gorgeously muscled chest. Minotaurs were nothing compared to this man. Rory swallowed her tongue for a second.

“Nah,” he told her as he unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down his hips. “You’ve seen it all. I got nothing to hide.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” she muttered, turning her head.

Chance chuckled. “Well, sure, we can if you like.”

“That was not what I said.”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

She heard him rustling through his duffel bag. The sound of a T-shirt going on, then something she sincerely hoped was shorts or sweatpants.

“I’m decent now, kitten. You can look without blushing.”

“I was not blushing.” She turned her head and nearly choked. “Where did you get that?”

Chance grinned as he flourished a hand over the T-shirt that had a picture of a chicken in silhouette. An egg was dropping from the back end. The caption read Chickens. The pet that poops breakfast.

“Babe, you can get anything on the internet.”

“Apparently.”

“Want anything from the kitchen before I sit down?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks.” She sat on one of the armchairs and curled her legs under her.

Chance went into the kitchen and returned with a beer. He sank onto the cushion at the end of the couch where he usually lay his head, then frowned at her. “Think you ought to sit beside me.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” He took a sip of the beer and waited.

She let her gaze slide to that ridiculous shirt and then back up to his eyes. He made no move to turn on the television. Rory made a show of sighing and then got up and went to sit beside him. He put an arm around her and tugged her in close.

“That’s better.”

She was stiff for a moment, but he was right, it was better. Chance was warm and solid, and her body tingled with energy when he was near like he was now. She lay her head against his shoulder and told herself it didn’t mean anything. They were friends, that’s all. Because she was a mature woman who could be friends with the man who’d planted a baby inside her. She could even be fond of him. Was fondness the soft, warm feeling flooding her right before the sizzle of attraction took over?

“What do you want to watch,” he asked, his breath ruffling her hair.

“Something good. A murder mystery. British, because I like those best.”

“Need to narrow it down, honey. That’s a lot of options to choose from.”

“Okay, I want to watch The Brokenwood Mysteries. It’s on Prime.”

Chance navigated to the series and chose the next one in the queue. “Wait a minute,” he said as the show started. “That’s not a British accent.”

“New Zealand. Close enough.”

Chance snorted. “Yeah, I hear they’re really close neighbors what with those adjoining borders and all.”

Rory pinched him. Not hard because he laughed. “Hush up, I need to hear what Mike and Kristin are up to. And just wait until you meet Gina. She’s a hoot.”

At some point, Rory’s eyes started to droop. She tried to keep them open, but it wasn’t happening. She fell asleep against Chance, her body melting into his. So long as he was here, she knew she was safe.

Sometimes change is good…

When she woke with a gasp sometime later, it was quiet and Chance was moving. She blinked up at him, trying to recall what’d happened on the show, but it was blank. She’d fallen asleep long before the mystery was solved. But maybe the show was what’d caused her dream? A shadowy man had been chasing her through the woods. She’d stumbled and fallen and he’d nearly been on her when she snapped awake.

“What time is it?” she asked, her voice raspy with sleep.

“Bedtime.”

That’s when she realized Chance was carrying her. He toed open her bedroom door and walked over to the bed. When he set her down on it and tugged back the covers on one side, she reached for him again.

“Don’t leave me.”

Chance stilled. “I’m not leaving, Rory. I’m right outside the door, on the couch. If you need me, I’ll be here in an instant.”

It was reasonable and logical to let him leave her to go to sleep. But the dream was still too recent and her heart tapped a quick beat in response.

“I—I was being chased. In my dream. I know it’s not real, but… I don’t want to be alone.”

Chance pushed her hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. A feeling of calm rippled through her.

“Okay, baby. I’ll stay with you. Don’t worry, I know this isn’t an invitation for sex. Told you I’d be here for you and I meant it.”

He slid in beside her and she turned on her side away from him so he could wrap himself around her. He tugged her close, her ass nestling against his crotch. Then he skimmed a hand down her hip and back up, resting it on the mattress beside her. Rory let out a sigh. She’d missed this.

“Good night, Chance,” she whispered.

“Night, kitten.”