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She mimicked the same hold he had on her, feeling the masculine tickle of his beard stubble and the warmth of his skin beneath her palm. “Then let’s get inside.”

“Unless you have objections…”

“To what?”

He took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm as they made their way back to the diner. “I’ll drive you back to your car, and then I’m going to follow you home. Tend to any injuries—”

“You, too—”

“—get you into warm, dry clothes. Make sure everything’s secure. I can spend the night outside in my truck—keep an eye on your building.”

“No way,” she insisted. “It’s freezing out here. I have a perfectly good couch where you can crash if you want to stick close tonight.” Her heart was still pounding as adrenaline and concern leached from her body. “I have no objections to you sticking close.”

“I don’t scare you?”

She paused and looked back at the intersection where some idiot named Neil Porter had almost run them down. “That scares me. When things happen that I can’t explain—that scares me. Feeling eyes on me when I don’t know who’s watching scares me.” She tilted her gaze to his. “But you don’t.”

They started walking again.

“Except maybe the way I’m starting to feel about you.” She felt the blush coloring her cheeks. “That scares me. A little.”

“Feeling something for you scares me, too.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re in this together, then.”

Daniel pulled her to a stop beside him. “I promise to keep you safe, sunshine. I’m not sure I can promise anything else.”

Sunshine? Had any man ever given her a nickname before? Did that mean he saw her as some kind of light in his life? Because she was pretty certain that he was chasing away the shadows that had haunted her for months now. She rested her palm against his chest, barely feeling the cold when she was close to him like this. “I haven’t felt safe for a long time, Daniel. But I feel safe with you. Seems like a pretty good way to start a relationship to me.”

“A relationship?”

“You said we’re on a date tonight. And we’re going on another date tomorrow. I may not understand flirting, but that sounds like a relationship to me.”

He dipped his head and pressed his lips against her forehead. “Not sure I deserve someone as sweet and kind as you.”

She couldn’t help but wish he’d aimed a little lower. She was more than ready to find out what Daniel’s lips would feel like against hers. She had the feeling a kiss from him would be the best gift she’d ever received. A kiss from him would change her life.

But for now, feeling secure with his arm around her and seeing that little hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth as he pulled away, it was enough.

Chapter Seven

Daniel’s headache throbbed with every step as they took the stairs up to Polly’s condo on the fifth floor of the refurbished textile building. He’d certainly been hurt worse than tearing a hole in his jeans and scraping his knee. He doubted he had a concussion—his good eye was clear, and he wasn’t nauseous. But smacking his head on the pavement and losing his breath had the perverse effect of knocking his mind back to the explosion that had taken his friends and torn up half his face.

Suddenly, he’d been trapped beneath a pile of rubble, insurgents closing in to finish off any survivors. If not for the Navy SEALs they’d teamed up with arriving minutes later, none of his unit would have made it out alive.

He wasn’t certain how many seconds—or even minutes—he’d been out of it. Then he’d felt Polly’s hand on his chest. Her soft words filtered through the noise in his head.

Come back to me. I need you.

He hadn’t felt needed for much of anything beyond shoveling sidewalks since retiring his uniform and coming home. Man, those words felt good—calling him back to duty, back to the idea that he still had a purpose in this world.

Then he’d felt lean, athletic curves pressed against him—and a dog tongue sloshing across his face. Pirate and Polly had brought him back from the abyss of his memories far more quickly than he’d ever been able to save himself from the anger, grief, guilt and pain. He owed her better than allowing her to get that close to danger in the first place.

Any lingering aches he deserved, for letting Polly get caught in that crosswalk. Maybe his sluggish reaction to realizing she’d come up behind him was partly due to his limited field of vision. But he suspected their brush with disaster had more to do with the labyrinth of memories and emotions inside his head where he could lose himself.

But not again. Not with Polly’s safety on the line. She needed him. That shy request for help had made her his mission. And damn if he’d fail her again.

With a sign indicating the elevator was out of order, they’d taken the stairs. He kept his breathing even and his stride steady. Pirate climbed at his left side, nails clicking on concrete, tail wagging like a metronome. Polly’s keys jingled ahead of him, her ponytail damp with slush, the fresh apple-and-sterile-scrubs scent of her drifting back each time she turned to make sure he was still there.