The Bodyguard's Baby (Billionaire Bodyguard Series) Read online

  However, two days later—with one discarded envelope—he chipped a wide crack through the center of that trust.

  She found a cranberry colored envelope facedown, unopened, on top of the wrapping paper she’d thrown away that had contained her Christmas presents from him.

  At first she ignored it, scraping the onion peels from her cutting board into the garbage beside the letter. But as she continued chopping vegetables for dinner, her curiosity—perhaps even a touch of jealousy mingled with a trace of mistrust—overcame her.

  Removing the letter from the trash, she flipped it over. The person at the head of the return address was Mrs. Truitt.

  Although it shamed her, the first instinct that flashed through her mind left her with cold prickles of jealousy. Had Slone been seeing a married woman? For how long? Had he ended things, or did he plan to keep a mistress on the side? Resentment bubbled up and gave her heartburn.

  In the next glance, the address she read calmed her immediate fears. The card came addressed from Kentucky, where Slone’s family lived. She let out a relieved sigh, embarrassed she’d jumped to conclusions and thought the worst. The realization reminded her how much she had come to care about Slone, how much she wanted him in her life—all to herself. Actually, it was more than that…she was falling in love with him.

  No great surprise, she confessed. He was amazing and accomplished and sexy as hell. He was the father of her child. Of course she’d acknowledged going into this she might fall for him. But now the reality stared her in the face. She was in love with him.

  Not sure how to process that alarming realization, she paused with the card in her hand. Should she?

  Feeling emotionally vulnerable, and more than a little hormonal, she glanced at the trash can where she’d found it. In all the crime shows she used to watch with Kylie, when something was thrown away, it legally became public property. That fact provided all the convincing she needed.

  After she washed remnants of vegetable peels off her hands, she tore into the envelope. The pretty card scattered flecks of sparkle-dust onto the floor. She opened to the inscription, a traditional Christmas wish for blessings to the receiver. What entranced her was the small, neat, feminine script that covered the left side of the card.

  Dearest Slone,

  Richard and I pray this card finds you well. We never hear back from you, but we never give up hope someday we will. Uncle Jimmy’s health has declined. He talks about you, often and fondly. We all do. You are loved and missed. Please contact us in any way you can, so we know you’re okay.

  Sending you prayers.

  Love always, your sister Maggie.

  Wait, what?

  Lindsey reeled. Slone had a sister?

  Why didn’t he mention Maggie?

  How dare he not tell her he had a sister!

  A sense of betrayal snaked through her, leaving a sickening slime in its wake. For God’s sake, she’d known more about the family history of the sperm donors than she knew about the father of her child.

  Bitterness leached into her blood, launching her into action. If he didn’t want to keep in touch with an extended family who clearly loved and missed him, then she would. She grabbed a spiral notebook and put pen to paper at the kitchen table.

  Dear Maggie,

  You don’t know me, but I found your card to Slone and felt compelled to contact you. I hope you had a lovely holiday. My name is Lindsey Graham, and I want to share some exciting news with you. Slone and I are expecting a child.

  She paused and bit her lower lip, wondering how to word the rest.

  It’s a little complicated to explain in a letter, but we’re both thrilled to bring a child into the world together. Thanks for reaching out to Slone. I’m sure deep down he’d be glad to know you care. I am. He’s doing well and recently received a promotion at work.

  So far our little trio is happy and healthy. I would love to meet you some time. Let me know if that is possible.

  Best wishes,

  Lindsey

  Satisfied with herself and the letter, she wrote down the house address in the letter below her name, since the card had been sent to Slone’s work. She also added their home address to the upper left corner of a crisp white envelope. Then she scrawled Mrs. Maggie Truitt, and the woman’s address, across the center of the envelope. She slapped a stamp on it and popped it into the blue mailbox at the end of their street.

  A little giddy, she barely felt the freezing wind whipping against her cheeks.

  How wonderful would it be to have an entire extended family for her baby? Of course, Kylie would be a wonderful, doting aunt. But Lindsey had always dreamed of belonging to a crowd of people who loved each other unconditionally.

  If Slone had a sister, and his sister had children, who knew how many aunts, uncles and cousins her baby might grow up around and play with during visits and family reunions? She beamed inside. Her baby could have grandparents!

  Kentucky was a little far from Denver for a weekend getaway. But if Slone took off work two days, they could all spend quality time together, getting to know one another.

  Breathless with excitement, she skipped up the front steps and enclosed herself in the cozy warmth of their home. She tossed several of Slone’s hand-cut logs on the grate and lit a fire. The orange flames glittered in the reflection of tinsel strings on the Christmas tree.

  Whole and happy inside, she rubbed her abdomen. A flood of pleasure—and probably hormones—brought tears to her eyes.

  “I just found you a whole family, little one,” she whispered to her unborn child growing inside her.

  Belatedly, she hoped Slone wouldn’t mind her impulsive decision. But he wanted what was best for their baby, too, right?

  How could more love and acceptance ever be a bad thing?

  Chapter 10

  Slone glanced around at his new office, wondering what to do with himself.

  Now he’d officially obtained a slice of the fifth-floor management pie. His office sat in the same corridor alongside company heavyweights like Devon, Director of IT; Isaac, Director of Sales; Mindy, Director of PR; Gretchen, Director of the Legal Team; Pam, Director of Marketing.

  Christ.

  Never in his life would he have seen himself in an upper level position behind a desk. A paper-pusher with tremendous power over all the bodyguards his boss Adam directed. Slone didn’t direct them, Adam did. So what the hell was he doing with his own office on the “Director’s” floor? And an office with a mountain view, at that?

  Fucked up, was all he could think.

  Never once in his career as a Navy SEAL had he thought of himself as in over his head. Not once. He’d had missions to accomplish, and he’d accomplished every single one. This was totally different. How the hell was he supposed to accomplish anything behind a desk?

  Somewhere, the wires had been crossed. He was sure of it. Nothing came this quickly, this good, this easily. Something would come along and take down this momentary high.

  Any minute now…

  As he stared out at the horizon feeling lost, the door to his office burst open. He spun around.

  Adam waltzed in like he owned the place—well, because he did—and caught Slone’s expression. He threw his head back and laughed heartily. “Fish out of water, much?”

  Slone frowned. “If I say yes, will you fire me?”

  Adam’s green eyes twinkled with amusement. “It tells me you’re the perfect man for this job. Glad to have you onboard.” He stuck out his hand and shook with Slone. “To be honest, I’m goddamned relieved.”

  The careless curse allowed Slone to feel a little less daunted. “Glad you think so.”

  “You look like you swallowed a fishbowl, and all the fish inside it.” Adam folded his arms. “So you figured out you may be a fish out of water, but you’re not out of the water yet.”

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  “Good.”

  Slone did a double-take. “What? How is that good?”

&n
bsp; “First of all, you’re honest with me. I need that in my number two.”

  Number two? Adam talked as if they were part of some street gang or motorcycle club. At the same time, Slone felt honored.

  “Second, you look like I felt the first year I worked here. I didn’t belong either.” Adam peered at him perceptively. “Just like you.”

  “Then how can I be the best person to relay your ideas and directives?”

  “Because as different as we may seem, we’re a lot alike, you and I.”

  Slone sighed. “You know, I’ve been meaning to apologize.” He rubbed the back of his neck that turned hot beneath his fingertips. “I never should’ve showed up at your office, telling you I could do what you do in my sleep. You’re the best at what you do. I’m a narcissistic asshole.”

  To his surprise, Adam grinned proudly. “Dude, that’s why I hired you! You landed on my doorstep like a fucking angel of mercy.”

  “I did?”

  “Hell, yeah. Why do you think I made it official and gave you an office?”

  “A random unfortunate delusion?”

  Adam laughed. “Yeah, in a good way. I need you, man. Who else but an equally delusional asshole would offer to be my second?”

  Considering it briefly, Slone nodded. “Point taken. I guess I’m your guy.”

  “Don’t think I don’t know it.” The congenial humor in Adam’s tone put Slone at further ease.

  “So you’re good with this,” Slone said, waving his hand between the two of them.

  “Would I have overpaid you and handed you an office if I wasn’t?”

  Slone lifted his shoulders. “Guess not.”

  “Yep,” Adam said. “Oh, and I know about your conversation with Cade. About me.”

  Frozen in place, Slone’s blood turned to ice.

  Adam shook his head. “Wipe that look off your face, man. It was bound to come up. You’re handling my correspondence. I might’ve fired you if you didn’t notice I can’t spell for shit.”

  Humbled, Slone sent him a reassuring glance. “No one else will find out, Adam. Not from me. I’m handling all your correspondence and requests. You can count on me.”

  “I know.”

  Stone blinked. “That’s it? No proof required?”

  “Yeah, dude. I don’t know how they do it in the military, but I take you on your word. Because of what you’ve done and where you’ve been. That’s enough for me.” Adam came toward him and slapped his shoulder in brotherly acceptance. “You know the score. You’ve already stepped in, discreetly, to handle the shit I can’t. You’re in.”

  “Cool.” Slone wasn’t sure what else to say. “Thanks man,” he added. “In the future, so you know, I won’t go to the other CEOs. Cade and I have some history, but he’s the one who brought up your…issue. I’m not the kind of employee who’d go behind your back.”

  Adam’s green eyes sharpened with laser focus, scanning him. His expression relaxed, telling Slone he’d passed whatever test Adam had inadvertently given him. “I know that too, man. It’s all good.”

  Adam left as quickly as he’d come. The guy was a whirlwind of energy that, if forced into something streamlined or static, would self-implode.

  Slone completely understood.

  God, he was lucky to have a boss who got him. As far as a civilian career, this was way better than he could’ve ever hoped for.

  If it hadn’t been for Lindsey, and the promise of their baby—now a reality—he would’ve never taken this step. He never would’ve pressed for the job with Adam.

  Without warning, he found his gaze inexorably drawn heavenward. Thanks, Big Man.

  After all this time, he’d finally started to believe in Him again. A little premature, maybe, but everything he’d ever wanted—things he’d never thought he should hope to have—were within reach.

  Until he received a letter that afternoon.

  The company mail person delivered it, coming into his office and handing it to him personally. “There’s some mistake,” Slone told the man.

  “No, sir,” the man replied. “It’s addressed to you, Mr. Slone Rowan.”

  Frowning, Slone reluctantly accepted the envelope. The only person who’d ever sent him mail to his company address was his sister, because that’s the only address he’d ever provided, to Adele or anyone else.

  Glancing down he read the return address. Yep, his sister. Then he read the name on the envelope. No, names.

  To Slone and Lindsey.

  Oh, no. His blood ran ice cold. Oh, hell, no. She did not go behind my back and contact my family…

  He stormed up one floor to Adam’s office and shoved open his boss’s door. “I need to leave early.”

  Adam arched an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

  “No. I don’t know.”

  “Then go. Take care of personal business.” Adam went back to peering with intense concentration on a spreadsheet.

  “That’s it?”

  Adam looked up again, perplexed. “Yeah, man. You need an afternoon. No big deal.”

  Slone appreciated his new boss even more. “Thanks, I’ll make it up to you.”

  Adam shook his head. “You’ve been putting in crazy hours for me over the holidays without complaint.” He waved his hand. “Go.”

  No explanation required. That was different. But very much appreciated, and needed, at the moment. “Thanks, boss.”

  After scraping the crusted snow off his windshield, Slone hopped in his truck and sped home. Like a whirlwind fury, he charged through the back door and approached Lindsey, clutching his parents’ twentieth anniversary invitation in his hand. “What the hell is this?”

  Innocently, Lindsey looked up from dusting the kitchen chair rungs. “What is what?”

  “You went behind my fucking back, is what’s what.” He seethed, seeing a shade of crimson that hadn’t crossed his vision in years. In battle, the “red sight” instinct was necessary, life-saving. In this circumstance, it could be life-destroying. He took a step back and checked himself. “You had no goddamn right to contact my family, without my say.”

  In response to his vehemence, she stood and also took a step back. “I-I guess you’re right. I should’ve checked with you first. I wasn’t even sure your sister would answer my letter.”

  Teetering on a dangerous edge, he raked his hands through his hair. “You have no idea the shit storm you just walked into.”

  “No, I don’t,” she said with a calm that infuriated him. “Because you never told me you had a sister.”

  “None of your business,” he snapped.

  Resting her palm against her abdomen, she gaped at him. “How can you say that, Slone? We have a baby together. That gives me some right to know where the other half of my child comes from.”

  “You’re going to wish you hadn’t opened this door,” he warned darkly.

  “Without your family, our child has no grandparents.” She stood up to his wrath in a way no woman had. He wasn’t sure it was good for her or their baby. The angry thoughts patrolling his brain made him ready to lash out at whatever threatened his safety, or his secrets. “Why should I rob our child of that relationship? And why should your parents be punished because you can’t face your past?”

  Fuck.

  He turned right and punched a hole in the lime green wall.

  Not his proudest moment.

  “I’ve faced it, damn it.” He glared at her. “I’ve looked it straight in the eye. And I’ve seen my failures.”

  “Is that why you’re so angry? Why you never speak to your family? Because you think somehow you’ve failed them, or they’re judging you? You couldn’t be more wrong.”

  “You want to see wrong? I’m all kinds of fucked up you haven’t begun to see.” The words spewed from him, wrath he’d never inflicted on an innocent being, yet she stood firm.

  “I have a hard time believing that.”

  “Fine. I’ll show you.” He stormed off to the second floor, heading straight
for the trunk beneath the window. Hefting it in both hands, he marched downstairs carrying the weight of all his sins.

  Coming into the kitchen, he released the handles of the chest. It hit the floor so hard the windows rattled. Lindsey moved away, but she didn’t flinch. She goddamn should have. “There’s your proof. I’m an asshole. Read every word. You’ll wish you never picked me to be the father of your baby.”

  Wheeling away, he banged open a kitchen cupboard. He slammed a glass down on the countertop and reached for a barely touched bottle of rum.

  Me and the Captain. Let’s set sail, my friend. He poured it to the brim.

  Then he turned, snatched his laptop off the dining room table, and stormed off upstairs. He kicked his bedroom door shut behind him.

  Careful not to spill a drop of booze, he yanked the clothes off the corner chair and chucked them at the floor. He abandoned the laptop on his bed, not bothering to pretend he’d brought it up to work.

  Sitting in the dark, taking deep swallows of rum, he knew Lindsey was just confronting the truth as she saw it. If she couldn’t handle it, then whatever. He ignored the shiver in his heart, the chill along his arms, the warning signs that he’d never recover from her—or from losing her.

  Fuck.

  If she couldn’t handle his issues, he’d sign whatever contractual agreement she came up with, giving her what she’d wanted all along—freedom to raise her child however she wanted. He was a nobody, a nothing. Once again.

  Fuck.

  To hell with it, he’d sign away his rights. The kid deserved a good father who’d teach him right from wrong. Slone had spent half his life acting out orders that defied the normal terms of right versus wrong. What influence, what truth, about knowledge and the facts of life did he rightfully have to dispense, when he hadn’t come to terms with his own brother’s death?

  But the thought of some other man raising his child sent shocks through his system. No way in hell. He’d be the father. He’d be the dad this kid needed. Whether he threw softballs with his son or helped his daughter bend over backward in gymnastics.

  This was his kid. He wasn’t letting go so easily.