I've spent my whole life taking up less space.

Shrinking in doorways. Smiling through double shifts. Sending every spare dollar to my little sister so she never has to be scared the way I was.

Then the man from my past walked out of prison and into my diner.

And the quiet giant in booth six, the one who orders terrible pie every night just to hear me laugh, decided I wasn't going to face him alone.

He fixes my locks. He sleeps in his truck beneath my window. He asks before he touches me, every single time.

Nobody has ever made me feel this safe. Or this wanted.

But the closer the danger creeps, the tighter he holds on. And I've already lived in one cage.

Can a man built to guard the door learn to stand beside me instead?

Or will loving me cost him everything he's sworn to protect?

Steamy slow burn. Curvy waitress. Protective alpha biker. Age gap. Forced proximity. Stalker suspense. Found family. Guaranteed HEA.