My Heroic Boyfriend

When the boss broke the pancake for the ninth time, I couldn't help but ask, "Hey, are you an plain-clothes man?"

He denied it repeatedly, but as soon as I left, he pulled down the shutter, too embarrassed to continue his business.

Later, we met again, and he wrapped me, saying, "You're under arrest, call me husband."

1

Before the blind date, all I knew was that he was a policeman, from a reputable family.

My mom said, "Haven't you always had a thing for military dudes? I spent a lot of time looking for you. If this doesn't work out, then you wait for me to remarry, I can't bear to stay on the same household registration with you."

After meeting under tremendous pressure, I stood there in shock.

Wasn't this the handsome guy who was making pancakes downstairs a few days ago?

I remembered his skills were poor, failing nine times in a row, with each attempt worse than the last.

Afraid of embarrassing him, I offered him a way out, "Hey, are you an plain-clothes man?"

Who would have thought I'd guess right.

Before I could figure out how to start the conversation, he was more excited than I was, suddenly standing up and exclaiming, "Have you joined our team?"

I was puzzled, "What do you mean by that? Did you think I'm a bad man?"

Dude, your pancake-making skills were so amateurish that I had reason to suspect you.

Why are you turning the suspicion on me?

He slowly sat down again, head down do not know what to think, ironed flat shirt, the faint muscle line of the arm, the hand curled up on the table, blue veins are obvious, with wheat skin, there is a full of masculine sexy.

I quickly controlled my eyes, swallowed hard, and with a flushed face, I continued through the process.

"My name is Daniela, I'm a network writer, and My daily routine is quite irregular. If we're going on a date, it's best to let me know two days in advance. I'm not great at cooking and mostly rely on my imagination. I might good-looking, but not so beauty without makeup. I own a house with a mortgage that I pay off monthly. You don't have to take care of me, um... how about you also introduce yourself?"

His frown deepened, and his eyes was probing. I wanted to go, but his family background and his face kept me intrigued, enduring the awkwardness.

After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat, "I'm Jaxon, a policeman, twenty-five years old. Have you thought about your baby name? Have decided on the kindergarten yet?"

To my delight, he was even more thoughtful than I had anticipated, making me want to rush over and reward him generously.

"Isn't it a bit fast?"

He couldn't help but smile, covering it with his fist, "Miss Mason, I heard from my aunt that you really like military men?"

I nodded vigorously, "I'm always ready to be a soldier's wife and contributing my strength to the country."

At this, he couldn't hold it anymore, the smile on his lips kept growing, stretching all the way to the back of his ears, his face tinged with a slight blush.

"Why do you talk like you're apple-head...," he paused, seemingly holding back a word, "uninhibited"

Honestly, I felt a bit shy, but when I'm nervous, I tend to lose control, like I've had a bit too much to drink.

"Ha-ha, so do you accept it?" My mind was racing ahead of my mouth.

He sobered up, looked at my face, his voice suddenly much more serious, "My job is unique and in danger. You should think it carefully."

Since we were already talking about this point, it seemed like things were going well. I sighed of relief, my tense body relaxing, and looked at him with a smile, "Don't worry, I've thought it very carefully."

His expression turned a bit subtle, "What exactly have you thought about?"

I almost forgot about social etiquette, nearly causing a awkwardness scene, but I quickly changed my words, replacing 'widowhood' with 'living independently.'

He was stunned, "Miss Mason, you really soberly."

Encouraged, I smiled even more warmly, "Jaxon, you don't need to worry about anything when dating with me. You focus on protecting the country, and I'll protect you."

He twitched his mouth, suddenly rubbing his brow as if he had a headache.

After a long pause, he met my expectant gaze and slowly said, "Thank you?"

Why was that a question?

Jaxon had taken leave for the blind date, and after our conversation, I drove my Toyota Sienna to take him back to the police station.

Before he got out of the car, I stopped him, can't help asking about doubt, "You should have a good impression of me, right?"

He stood in the sunlight, his expression unreadable, but his upright demeanor was reassuring.

The more I looked, the more satisfied I was.

"Yeah." He replied with one word, and I responded with three sentences.

"Me too.

Then we'll keep in touch.

I'll go back now."

2

As soon as I got home, I told the good news to my mom, but she surprisingly didn't believe it.

So, To her face, I took out my phone and messaged Jaxon.

A minute passed.

An hour passed.

The whole night passed.

The phrase "I'm home, don't worry" seemed to disappear into the void, with no response received.

My mom sneered, "Even though I guessed the result, but I'm still disappointed in you."

With huge dark circles round my eyes and a disheveled appearance, I sat on the sofa. "Men, you really can't rely on them, even if they're on public-sector jobs..."

My mom mercilessly interrupted, "Look at yourself."

I couldn't focus on work, lying in bed all day, waiting for a reply.

By evening, an unfamiliar number called.

I hadn't slept well last night, and I was exhausted, my brain foggy, my voice lacked energy as I answered the phone, "Hello? Who is this?"

The other side was silent for a while, "Why does your voice sound like this? Is someone with you?"

I immediately recognized the magnetic voice, and my body is refreshed, sitting up straight in bed.

"I'm sick."

"A cold?"

"Lovesickness." I blurted out, blushing.

Then, he hung up.

Looking at the blacked-out phone screen, I fell into contemplation.

Why?

Was I rejected?

Soon, Jaxon's phone rang again, but I was too afraid to answer.

After the call ended automatically, I complained to my best friend, "I can't control what I say. What should I do? And this guy, not replying to messages and hanging up on me. If he's not interested, just say so, don't string me along. I am a girl of imagination!"

She was concise, "Make a bold move and surprise him."

Certain images flooded into my mind like a torrent released, the narrative speeding ahead uncontrollably. This is probably the aftermath of writing too many novels.

My face blushed, "can't eroticism, friend."

"Really? Don't you want eroticism?" she retorted with a soul-searching question.

I was enthusiastically describing the scenes in my head to my best friend when Jaxon's call came in again.

This coincidence made my heart pound, a touch of sin and a damned anticipation.

"What's up? Want to hang up on me again?" I pretended to stay calm.

"I'm sorry. I hung up the phone by accident. Would you like to have dinner with me now?" He has a very steady voice, sounding very polite.

I was still angry at him for not replying and hanging up, so I deliberately stayed silent.

"At your place," he added.

Now I could not keep silent, and quickly asked, "To my own house, or my mom's to meet the my parents?"

He cleared his throat, then after a few seconds, spoke in a hushed tone, sounding feel shy, "Your place, It's best if it's just the two of us."

I couldn't help but let out a squeak, then abruptly stopped, and in a valley girl accent, agreed.

As soon as the call ended, I messaged my best friend, "Dreams do come true. Who knew Mr. Fuller was so bold and unrestrained? I'll give the results of the date tomorrow morning."

3

By the time I rushed back to my place, Jaxon was already downstairs.

In the dim light, he was tall and upright, dressed in black clothes and pants, exuding a commanding presence, holding a bouquet of... blue rouse.

Do nine out of ten straight men really fall for blue enchantress?

Suppressing the urge to comment, I took the flowers, and looked up to his eyes, "Why didn't you reply to my message?"

"Was on a mission," he said in a low voice, with a hint of apology.

"But you still haven't replied to my message," I complained.

We had agreed to keep in touch, yet He left me alone on the chat page.

Oh it rhymes.

He scratched his head, seemingly not very good at arguing with girls, looking a sense of being helpless.

"I thought calling you was a reply. I'll make sure to respond properly next time."

After saying that, he took out his phone in front of me and replied with a "OK" followed by an exclamation mark.

I was amused and speechless at the same time.

I guess I'll be in charge of the romance, because he was completely clueless.

As we took the elevator upstairs, several people crowded into the small space, and a large dog.

I'm becoming acclimated to it and didn't have a problem.

Jaxon, however, open his arms to carefully shield me in the corner, preventing others from bumping into me.

This small detail was enough for me to forgive him.

He was tall, and I only reached his chest, so I beckoned him to lean down.

As he leaned in, I whispered in his ear, "I like this habit of yours. Thank you, and keep it up."

The words fall, he blushed, avoiding my gaze, and took a small step back

I was puzzled. Why was he getting shy when I was just expressing my feelings?

Once we got home and closed the door, I was ready to wash my hands and order takeout for a pleasant meal together.

But unexpectedly, he was leaning against the door, intently peering through the peephole, motionless.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

He immediately turned around and put a finger to his lips, signaling me to be quiet.

Was he staking out my place?

I got nervous and wasn't sure if I should still order takeout, so I just sat on the couch waiting.

After what felt like ages, Jaxon finally came over and solemnly saluted me.

I was suddenly on edge and sat up straight.

Had I done something wrong?

"I might need to bother you for a few more days. I can't disclose the details right now, but please keep my identity a secret. Just tell others I'm your boyfriend, okay?"

My mind went blank for a moment, and I was on the verge of tears. "So, we're not on a date?"

"How can it not be? You can think of it as me completing a mission on the side. Isn't it a coincidence that you live here, and I can protect you up close."

I was speechless.

Seeing my silence, he continued, "As you can see; I'm not great at making pancakes."

In the end, the future military wife had to bear it all.

I let out a deep sigh. "What about the dinner we planned? How are you going to eat with me like this?"

"I already ordered takeout before I came. It should arrive soon. I can just grab a bite while keeping watch; it won't be affected."

So, when he said "come to your place to eat," he really just meant having a meal at my place.

My imagination had gone to waste.

My best friend was incessantly curious about our progress over the phone, but I was too embarrassed to reply.

"Did you count his abs? How many are there?"

"Is that a nice handcuffing posture?"

"Did you play any role-reversal games like in your stories?"

"Sweetie, remember to update your inspiration promptly. Don't waste your talent;

I'm all set to read."

Who would believe it? A man and a woman alone in a room, which could easily lead to misunderstandings.

The room was so quiet, I was too embarrassed to make any noise.

After finishing the takeout and two more hours passed, seeing he hadn't given up on his surveillance, I resigned myself to it.

I obediently went to the study to work on my writing.

I could ignore my best friend's messages, but I couldn't delay the promised updates for my readers.

Having a man in the house surprisingly stimulated my hormones.

I could directly channel it into my writing.

I was writing with great enthusiasm, completely absorbed, when suddenly I heard a heavy thud.

Turning around, I saw Jaxon staring with wide eyes, still holding a cup as if frozen, though it had already fallen to his feet.

"Is it worth compromising integrity for a rare man?" he read my text aloud with a puzzled tone.

To be at a breakneck pace, I yanked the computer plug. I jumped off the gaming chair, crouched in the corner, and held my head in my hands.

"Officer, I promise I won't do it again."

4

Jaxon was silent for a while, then left without a word, leaving me trembling alone, my thoughts in turmoil.

It was over;

the last words I typed were "sprint." I had sprinted my love away.

After sitting on the floor for a long time, I tiptoed to the door, peeking out to spy on Jaxon.

He was watching the door, and I was watching him.

"Officer, aren't you going to punish me?" I asked pitifully.

He hesitated for a moment, and he glanced at me. "I need to think about it."

Before I could get excited, he added, "Go to play by yourself."

"OK." At least he was still talking to me, so things weren't too bad.

Back in my room, I was wondering if I had any nice pajamas that could catch Jaxon's eye, but I ended up falling asleep while thinking.

When I woke up, it was seven in the morning.

Jaxon was still at the door, unmoving.

That was too hard.

I felt a pang of distressed and quietly walked over to stand behind him.

Before I could speak, he suddenly turned around.

Caught off guard, my nose bumped into his chest muscles.

My vision went black, and I started to fall backward.

In the next second, a large, warm hand pressed against my lower back, pulling me back upright.

He looked down at me with concern.

I covered my nose and instinctively complained, "Too strong!"

Just then, the door opened, and my mom stood there with breakfast, frozen in place, her expression shifting through a range of emotions before settling on a kindly smile.

"Oh, Auntie came at the wrong time. You guys keep going."

Jaxon gave me a heavy look, then forced a smile that was awkward yet polite, turning to my mom with a deep bow.

"Hello, Auntie."

It dawned on me that Jaxon had noticed my mom's arrival and was trying to warn me.

My words, though...

My mom chuckled with a knowing smile, "You're good, very good."

Then, fearing we'd misunderstand, she added, "I didn't hear anything just now."

Hmm...

The three of us sat on the couch, enveloped in an awkward silence. Even with my thick skin, I had no idea how to break it.

My mom seemed completely captivated by Jaxon's tall and imposing figure, beaming with admiration.

Jaxon, on the other hand, was visibly uncomfortable, casting desperate glances my way for help.

Considering he hadn't slept all night and was now enduring this ordeal, I decided to cut to the chase.

"Mom, Jaxon was really tired last night. You should go back early if you don't have other thing." My mom's smile froze, and she gave me a reproachful look.

I thought she was going to accuse me of forgetting my mother now that I had a man.

But instead, she said, "Now you love dearly for him? What were you doing last night?"

Mom, choose your words carefully.

"Young people need to take care of themselves."

Jaxon and I both blushed, lowering our heads in embarrassment.

"You two should come over for dinner in a couple of days. Young love shouldn't just be about fun and games; you have to be responsible,"

my mom commanded with the authority of a senior before leaving.

Jaxon glanced at me, noticing I had no intention of explaining, and instead, I looked at him expectantly. He obediently nodded, "Got it, Auntie. We'll definitely visit."

I struggled to hold back my laughter. This was a stroke of luck, wasn't it?

After all, someone was too shy to defend his own innocence.

As soon as my mom left, Jaxon leaned against the door again. Concerned about his health, I wanted to offer him some soy milk, but he suddenly turned serious.

He pulled out his phone and typed quickly.

Then, I received a message: "Plans have changed. I have to leave. Be careful at home and don't open the door to strangers."

I grew anxious, clutching the soy milk and nodding at him.

In no time, he put on a mask and left.

I looked at the soy milk, then at the closed door, feeling a pang of sadness at the scene.

5

After Jaxon left, every minute and second felt like an eternity of worry.

I kept wondering if he was in danger or if I was too close to those who were watching him, putting myself at risk.

I repeatedly picked up my phone only to put it down again, my mind filled with news headlines.

I couldn't even muster the energy to respond to my best friend's teasing.

I suddenly realized I had underestimated the difficulty of being apart and constantly worried. It was truly hard to endure, and I can't even send a private message to inquire about his mission progress, afraid that even a small action might cause him trouble or increase his risk.

I spent the all-day lying in bed, clutching my phone and letting my thoughts run wild, until a sudden phone call startled me.

When I saw the name on the screen, a wave of grievance washed over me.

After clicking the connection, Jaxon's voice came through, light and relaxed, "Hey, I'm done with work." I didn't respond, tears streaming down my face.

He seemed to sense something, lowering his voice, "What's wrong? Open the door, I'm outside your place."

I burst into tears, jumped out of bed, and ran to the door without even putting on shoes. Seeing Jaxon, I rushed into his arms, hugging his waist tightly.

"I... I was so scared. It's already eight in the evening, you know?" I complained, and I rest my head in his bosom.

He didn't push me away, instead, he glanced around and then lifted me into the house with one arm, closing the door with a nudge of his foot.

His actions left me stunned, and suddenly my mood lifted. I hid in his embrace, tears still in my eyes but now smiling.

"Don't cry. See, I'm fine," he released my waist, gently comforting me.

I shook my head, afraid to speak for fear of bursting into laughter.

He seemed lost in thought and didn't say anything further, letting me hold him for a while before gently pushing me away.

I looked up, ready to milk a bit more sympathy, but he ruffled my hair, "Come on, let's go on a date."

I couldn't hold back anymore, laughing as if I'd just won the lottery.

"Alright." He dumbfounded, bending down to look at me closely, "That easy to please?"

I nodded eagerly, "Because I'm sensible."

After knowing I hadn't eaten all day, Jaxon took me to the Teochew Congee Restaurant.

During the meal, he used only one hand, which seemed odd to me. I quickly moved to his side to check.

"Your hand is injured. Why didn't you tell me?" I gasped, seeing the thick bandage wrapped around his elbow.

What was wrong with him, getting hurt and not saying a word?

Earlier, when he lifted me with one arm, I thought he was just demonstrating his strength.

He leaned back in his chair, a mischievous grin on his face, "Feeling Distressed for me? Come on, cry a bit more for me. I quite enjoy it."

"Jaxon," I glared at him, but his teasing gaze brought inappropriate images to mind, making my face flush and my voice strained, "I'll remember your preferences for when you're better."

After dinner, he walked me home. At the door, he patted my head with a gentle affection, "Don't be afraid, you're safe now."

"That fast?"

I sighed, a bit disappointed, then quickly grabbed his hand, eagerly suggesting, "You're injured. Why not stay here so I can take care of you?"

He declined with mock seriousness, "No, no, I afraid to. It might disrupt your writing. After all, you're a writer, ' Fragrant with powder, moist with perspiration...'"

I slammed the door shut, unwilling to hear more.

Jaxon did not read the poem is: Fragrant with powder, moist with perspiration, They are the pegs of a jade inlaid harp. Aroused by spring, they are soft as cream. Under the fertilizing mist. After my bath my perfumed lover. Holds them and plays with them. And they are cool as peonies and purple grapes.

The unfinished poem was a highlight from my previous work, not something I passionately wrote last night.

Now, I was certain Jaxon had uncovered my secret identity.

I'm doomed.

"Remember to update. I'm waiting," Jaxon texted me.

Just as I finished reading it, unsure how to respond, his voice came through the door, laced with amusement.

"Goodnight, Little Grape."

Alright, he really knows my pen name-Meat-Loving Little Grape.