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He knew she only told him what was necessary to convince him to help her. He could feel her seriousness coming off of her like a palpable energy. She had won. She had used her intelligence and the truth to convince him what he was doing was wrong, that she was the one needed protecting. She knew he was a patriot, that vibe came off of him in waves.
    “Are you in the military?” she chanced asking him once he pulled away and was standing in her space.
    “Yes, a Green Beret,” he responded matter-of-factly.
    “How long did you serve?” she asked as her eyes connected with his to gauge the truth of his statements.
    “Eight years with the Army,” he replied honestly, holding the eye contact.
    He hadn’t lied to her yet and he wasn’t going to start now. He had to get her to trust him if he was going to protect her from whomever was after her knowledge. He ran his hands up and down the side of her arms reassuring her that she could trust him; he would be there for her.
    She stood to go get dressed, pushing Michael out of her space. He reluctantly let her go.
    When she returned to the living room, she saw Michael building a fire. She was dressed in a warm cowl-neck sweater and her favorite pair of jeans, the ones with the hole in the knee. Her feet were bare.
    “It’s going to be a long night,” Michael mumbled to himself after he saw how sexy she looked.
    “Are you hungry? I could use something to eat,” Michael confessed.
    “Sure, I can make us some sandwiches and chips.” She wasn’t the greatest cook but she could whip up a mean cold cut sandwich. She stood and went to the kitchen. He didn’t follow choosing instead to enjoy the fire. A few moments later she reemerged from the kitchen with two plates. She set the plates on the coffee table and went back to get their drinks.
    “Is water okay?” she shouted from the kitchen.
    “Do you have any milk,” he asked.
    “Sure.” She came back into the living room with a glass of water for herself and a tall glass of milk for Michael. She set the drinks next to the plates. Michael picked up his plate and quickly ate his sandwich. Emma took delicate, small bites of her sandwich. Michael was done with his before Emma had finished half of hers. “Do you want me to make you another?”
    “Please. I haven’t eaten much today.” Emma placed her plate down and went to make him another sandwich. He ate the second with the same enthusiasm with which he ate the first.
    When their stomachs were full, dirty plates and glasses on the coffee table, Michael gathered the dishes and took them to the kitchen sink. Emma followed and watched as Michael rinsed their plates and glasses and placed them into the dishwasher. Back in the living room Emma wondered aloud to Michael, “Any plans?” He sat down on the red couch and patted the seat next to him. His plans were to have her lying naked beneath him. She sat down close, their shoulders touching.
    “I’m going to wait until my employer calls me before I make a plan. I need the information he is going to provide before I can figure out a way to keep you safe. But until he calls, we probably should get some sleep,” he said watching her eyes sparkle in the firelight.
    Michael stood and separated the logs, taking care to securely close the glass pane. He made sure to leave the damper open so the fire would die out naturally. She rose from the couch and noticed his gun was now lying on the end table. She knew, at that moment, he was on her side. Her head told her to grab the gun and flee, but her body was paralyzed. What was going on with her body? Why did her heart trust Michael so completely? She made her way to the stairs and he followed. He wanted her in a way he hadn’t ever felt before. Something inside him craved her touch, which is why he left his gun sitting on the table. He would never leave his gun.
    “I am going to sleep in here tonight, in that chair,” he said pointing to the chaise lounge chair in the corner of