Page 22 of Her Noble Protector

She could hear his sigh through the glass door, and she knew he wanted her to talk because he sighed loudly.

“Can we talk about something else?” Lisa realized it was nice to talk to somebody. Her stomach growled again. She’d only eaten some crackers and tapioca, washed down with Sprite. She really was hungry now that she was keeping food down. Finally. What else was there to eat?

“Sure, Lisa, what would you like to talk about?”

“World peace?”

Raiden let out a long laugh. “We’re going to be here for a while.”

“I don’t have any plans at the moment, do you?” she asked.

“I was thinking about getting an Egg McMuffin.”

Her stomach rumbled again. She was feeling better than yesterday. Less shaky. She got up and went to the dining room table and looked into the bags of groceries, ignoring the noxious odors. Thank God she hadn’t ordered milk or eggs. The only real perishable items were the peaches, cherries, and yogurt. The yogurt was bulging but hadn’t exploded yet, so that was a blessing. The bananas were brown, but the bread still looked edible. There were some boxes of macaroni and cheese, but there was no way she was going to boil water and she didn’t have any milk.

“Lisa?” Raiden called out.

She wandered back to the couch and sat down.

“I’d like a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit,” she said.

“Hash browns?” Raiden immediately asked.

The thought of all that grease made her grimace. “No. But can you get me some milk? A lot of milk?”

“Sure, honey. I could go to the grocery store too. Is there anything else you want?”

“No, just that.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’m leaving right now. Are you going to be okay with me gone?”

Lisa did a gut check. It was morning, not night.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

8

Raiden’s palms were actually fucking sweaty. When the hell was the last time that had happened? And all because he was going through the McDonald’s drive-thru. At long last, he was making some headway. Some significant headway. Wasn’t he?

Raiden shook his head after he took his food. For fuck’s sake he was thinking like a thirteen-year-old girl. He rolled down the windows on the way back to Lisa’s house and turned up the music. By the time he rolled up the drive, he was feeling like himself.

He put three bags on the front porch, one with her breakfast sandwich, one with five cartons of cold milk, and one with cinnamon rolls and apple pies, hoping that the treats would tempt her. He hopped the fence with his goods and was immediately at her sliding glass door.

“Lisa?”

“Yeah?”

“Your food is at the front door.”

“At the front?”

Her voice sounded wrong when she asked the question.

“Yeah, honey, shouldn’t I have put it there? That’s where you’ve gotten your groceries, right?”

She didn’t answer.

“I don’t want to open my front door,” she said when she finally spoke.