Wyoming Cowboy Protection

Seth slammed his sippy cup against his high-chair tray and yelled, “No!” Noah was never sure if it was a greeting or an admonition.

Noah grunted at the boy, his favorite mode of greeting. He sneaked a glance at Addie to make sure she still had her back to him, then made a ridiculous face that made Seth squeal out a laugh.

Noah advanced closer, but he noted Addie was slamming things around in the kitchen and didn’t turn to face him with her usual greeting and announcement of what was for dinner.

It all felt a little too domestic, which was becoming more and more of a problem. He couldn’t complain about being fed nightly by a pretty woman, but sitting down with her and her kid for a meal every day was getting to feel normal.

Integral.

Noah hovered there, not quite sure what to do. Laurel had assured him via text she’d come in and figure out whatever was up with Addie after he’d contacted her, but Addie did not seem calmed.

He cleared his throat. “Uh. Um, need help?” he offered awkwardly.

She turned to face him, tongs in one hand and an anger he’d never seen simmering in her blue eyes.

She pointed the tongs at him. “You, Noah Carson, are a coward. And a bit of a high-handed jerk.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, but Addie didn’t wilt. Not even a hint of backing down. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared right back at him. In another situation he might have been impressed at the way she’d blossomed into something fierce.

“Because?”

She huffed out a breath. “You went and told Laurel I was having a problem when I told you I was not.”

“But you were.”

“No. I wasn’t.” She pointed angrily at the table with the tongs. “Sit down and eat.”

He’d never seen much of Addie’s temper. Usually if she got irritated with him she went to some other room in the house and cleaned something. Or went into her room and played with Seth. She never actually directed any of her ire at him.

He didn’t know what to do with it. But he was hungry, so he took his seat next to Seth’s high chair, where the kid happily smacked his hands into the tiny pieces of food Addie had put on his tray before Noah walked in.

She slammed a plate in front of Noah. Chicken legs and mashed potatoes and some froufrou-looking salad thing. Usually she didn’t serve him, but he wasn’t one to argue with anyone, let alone an angry female.

She stomped back to the kitchen counter, then to the table again. She sat in a chair opposite him with an audible thump.

Her huffiness and sternness were starting to irritate him. He didn’t have much of a temper beyond general curmudgeon, but when someone started poking at him, things tended to... Well, he tended to avoid people who made him lose his temper. Addie’d never even remotely tested that before.

But she sure was now.

“I can handle this,” she said, leveling him with her sternest look. She shook out a paper towel and placed it on her lap like it was an expensive cloth napkin and they were in some upscale restaurant.

“What? What is this thing you can handle?” he returned evenly.

She stared right back at him like he was slow. “It’s nothing. That’s why I can handle it.”

Noah wanted to beat his head against the table. “You were visibly shaken this morning, and it wasn’t like it used to be.”

Her sharp expression softened slightly. “What do you mean?”

Noah shrugged and turned his attention to his food. “When you first got here you were all jumpy-like. This was not the same thing.”

She was quiet for a few seconds, so he took the opportunity to eat.

“I didn’t know you noticed,” she said softly.

He shrugged, shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth and hoping this conversation was over.

He should have known better. Addie didn’t poke at him, but she also didn’t leave things unfinished. “I need you to promise you won’t call Laurel like that again. The last thing I need is well-meaning people...” She trailed off for a few seconds until he looked up from his plate.

Her eyebrows were drawn together and she was frowning at her own plate, and Noah had the sinking, horrifying suspicion those were tears making her blue eyes look particularly shiny.

She cleared her throat. “I’ll handle things. Don’t bring Laurel into this again.” She looked up, as if that was that.

“No.”

“What did you say?” she asked incredulously.

“I said no.”

She sputtered, something like a squeak emanating from her mouth. “You can’t just...you can’t just say no!”

“But I did.”

Another squeaking sound, which Seth joined in as if it was a game.

Addie took a deep breath as if trying to calm herself. “A man stood in my way and wouldn’t move. He said nothing, and he did nothing threatening. It was nothing. Calling Laurel, on the other hand, was something. And I did not appreciate it.”

“If what happened this morning were nothing, it wouldn’t have freaked you out. What did Laurel say?”

“She said you’re an idiot and I should quit and move far away.”

“No, she didn’t.” He didn’t believe Laurel would say something like that, but there was a panicked feeling tightening his chest.

“Noah, this isn’t your problem,” Addie said, and if he wasn’t crazy, there was a hint of desperation in her tone, which only served to assure him this was his problem.

“You live under my roof, Addie Foster. You are my problem.”

She frowned at him as if that made no sense to her, but it didn’t need to. It made sense to him. The people in his family and under his roof were under his protection. End of story.

Chapter Four (#uc35f7e3b-0925-5a2a-81c6-0aab782a6dc3)

Addie ate the rest of her dinner in their normal quiet companionship. Quite honestly, she was rendered speechless by Noah’s gruff, certain proclamation.

You are my problem.

He had no idea what kind of problem she could be if she stayed, and yet no matter how many times she’d chastised herself to pack up and leave immediately, here she was. Cleaning up dinner dishes while Seth crawled in and out of the play tent she’d placed on the floor for him.

You are my problem.