Bound Guardian Angel by Donya Lynne

like
me doing caring about anybody other than myself, right?”
    Sam’s shoulders fell as she looked down,
abashed. “No, that’s not—”
    “Don’t worry about it.” Cordray set her cup
in its saucer a little more heavily than necessary, her back
stiffening. “I know what people think of me. I know what Micah and
Trace say about me and that I’m not the most popular bitch in
Chicago. But I do have a heart. I do care. Maybe I don’t always
show it, but I do.” In fact, she cared a great deal. Probably more
than most. When you’ve suffered great pain, you tend to feel
equally great compassion, even if you don’t wear that compassion on
your sleeve.
    She faced the counter again as she recalled
taking the razor to Trace in Bain’s dungeon. She’d known Trace was
struggling to keep his power under control, and it had pained her
to see him suffer. She wanted to believe that the only reason she’d
provided him a means to keep his inner demons under control was
because, being in the dungeon, he was close to Bain’s royal
residence. But the truth was, she hated seeing him in so much
agony.
    Maybe she and Trace didn’t get along. Maybe
they even detested one another—or at least pretended to detest one
another in her case. But even an injured wasp deserved mercy. After
all, it was still a living, breathing creature that toiled and
struggled to survive just like the rest of God’s creations.
    “A shelter is a noble endeavor,” Sam said,
recovering from her social hiccup. “Definitely not for the faint of
heart. Are you planning to have Trace help you there?”
    “Yes.”
    “That’ll be interesting.” Sam lifted her cup
to her lips.
    “Why? Do you think I need to worry about how
he’ll behave around the kids?”
    Sam’s eyes met hers. “Your guess is as good
as mine. I’ve never seen him with kids. But he’s a gentle soul. I
think he’ll be okay.”
    “Gentle? Did you say he’s a gentle soul?”
    Sam issued a short laugh. “Okay, let me
qualify that by saying that he’s gentle around here. I know he can
be a terror to others with that hand of his, and I know you and he
have a few bumps to work through before you’ll agree with me—”
    “Just a few.” As in, she didn’t think she
would ever be able to call Trace gentle. At least not from what
she’d seen of him.
    Sam shrugged. “Yeah well, he’s a good male.
He won’t hurt your kids.” An awkward, somewhat chagrined smile
twisted her mouth. Then she sighed and brightened as if she’d
forced away a sad thought. “So, what kind of things are you going
to have him do at the shelter?”
    “Manual labor. Heavy work. I’ve got a lot of
land, and now that it’s spring, there’s a lot of mowing, tilling,
and landscaping that needs to be done, as well as a lot of
cleanup.”
    “At least you’ll be keeping him busy. I have
a feeling he’s going to need that.”
    “Why do you think that?”
    “Gut feeling. AKM was sort of his life
before he was arrested. Now he’s got to find a way to fill all that
time.” She looked away and chuckled quietly. “Do you realize that I
don’t even know where he lives? I’ve known him since January and
have never seen his home.”
    Cordray dropped her gaze into her teacup.
“Look around, Sam.”
    Sam frowned then said, “What do you
mean?”
    An empty ache dove into her stomach as she
faced Sam again. “Look around.” She gestured toward the house.
“ This is Trace’s home.”
    Those four words bothered her more than
anything she’d said, heard, or done all morning. And she knew why,
even if she refused to admit it.
    Deep down, in a place she struggled more and
more to suppress, she wanted Trace’s home to be with her.

 
    Chapter 6
    Trace luxuriated in both the bath Micah had drawn, as
well as Micah’s presence, which enveloped him like a warm blanket.
Just being near Micah soothed him. Feeling his hands scoop warm
water over his chest, arms, neck, and head was enough to bliss him
out even more