Bidding on the Bodyguard Page 4

  “Testing the balance.” He did a partial weight-lifter squat to pick up her suitcase with his arms still supporting her. Then he dropped it, continuing to hold her against him. He started walking away. “Forget the suitcase. I have everything I need for this weekend,” he said, cradling her as he strolled toward his Jeep parked in the circle.

  Protesting between gasps of laughter, she insisted he go back for her stuff.

  Once he deposited her in the front seat, he said, “You think I’d actually leave your suitcase on the curb?” He glanced at her bare legs, at her painted toenails, and then covered his gaze with the sunglasses he settled across the bridge of his nose. “Give me a little credit.” His cheeks lifted under the rims of his aviator shades, hinting at the smile she might’ve seen in his eyes. “I wanted an excuse to hold you in my arms. Can’t blame me for that.”

  The echo of his words took her breath away as he returned to the cement slab to retrieve her luggage. He tossed it into the back of the Jeep like its overstuffed weight equaled a can of beans.

  They steered onto the highway in silence until he said, “Some things you should know about my mom and sister, before you meet them. They’re going to ask you a million questions because they haven’t seen me with a woman in a while.” He swallowed. “They wanted me settled down with a great girl yesterday, so don’t be intimidated. They’re the most amazing women I’ve ever known, my favorite people in the world, even if they’re too nosy for my bachelor lifestyle.”

  Emma released a puff of dry amusement. “All of those things are intimidating, but it’s not like we’re dating.”

  “What I’m saying is, they’ll see you with me and will want us to be dating.”

  “Why?”

  He regripped the steering wheel with one hand and rested his other arm on the center console so close to hers she felt the same electric charge from last night. “Because you’re the kind of girl I should date.”

  She had no idea what to do with that. Judging by the tightness at the corner of his eye fanning out from the metal rim of his sunglasses, she sensed he didn’t either. “What makes you say that?” And is that a bad thing? She stopped that thought short. She barely knew this man, even if what she knew so far made him incredibly easy to fall for.

  “Not a bad thing,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “At all, believe me.” He gave a shrugging motion with his hand, brushing his knuckles against her forearm. “It’s a heads-up. They’re going to try to make us a couple.”

  “Should I ask why they’d want to do that?”

  “Forget I brought it up.” He set both hands on the steering wheel. “Just be you, and things will go fine.” He released a remote sigh. “You’ll be great.”

  The evasiveness in his tone didn’t prompt further questions. The exchange confused her, and she wondered if this meeting seemed to hold some deeper importance she didn’t understand. If engaging his family’s eager questioning bothered him, why would he bring her along?

  She suspected her instinct to wear a cute sundress and sandals served her well. She couldn’t explain why she wanted to make a positive impression on his family, but she’d made a positive impression on him. And she couldn’t wait for their weekend to officially begin.

  “Don’t just stand on my welcome mat like you show up on my doorstep every day,” said the woman with the short hair streaked with red highlights. Deep grooves fanned from her silver-blue eyes so like her son’s. “Get in here.”

  The adoration shining from Shane refracted like light through a prism. Happiness scattered everywhere as if Emma had wandered into a physical rainbow. Shane scooped the woman into a hug and danced her into the kitchen. “Hi, mom.”

  “Oh, stop.” She laughed as he swished her around the inviting space filled with yellow and red accents, a rooster motif to go with the vintage appliances and farmhouse feel, and the homey scent of a freshly baked breakfast casserole.

  He pecked kisses against her cheek. When she shooed him away, he chased her around the kitchen island.

  “Stop, stop!” she insisted, though she beamed under her grown son’s overt affection.

  “You can’t hog all the attention, Mom. He came to see me, too.” The beautiful young woman at the dining room table stood and slid beneath her brother’s outstretched arm.

  He pulled her in for a mighty hug and kissed the top of her head. “I’ve missed you, Suzie. You don’t even know.”

  “Oh, I know.” She hugged her brother hard, before she sighed. “You conveniently forget you’re supposed to move back here and be with your family, where you belong.”

  After his sister spoke those words, Shane extracted himself from the love fest that had enveloped him, carefully maintaining the smile that dimmed almost imperceptibly at the mention of him returning home.

  “Who is the lovely lady you brought along?” his mom asked, turning intense interest on Emma. “I’m Nancy.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Emma held out her hand, but his mother hugged her like she deserved a grand welcome she hadn’t earned. “Shane has said wonderful things about his family,” Emma improvised. “It looks like they’re all true.”

  A wise light slanted through her silver-bright eyes, as if she knew Emma was faking it for Shane’s sake without even knowing why. Emma blinked, sharing an uncertain smile.

  His mom nodded. “What a wonderful addition to a beautiful day,” she said, sounding genuine. “We’re glad you’re here. Come see my new grandson.”

  Relieved that someone else would absorb everyone’s attention, Emma said, “I’ve been looking forward to it.”

  Shane’s sister scooped her son from the bassinette where his red face showed signs of a recent bawl. “He’s fussy this morning. I apologize in advance.”

  “He’s waiting for his uncle to show him some love.” Shane proudly embraced the infant that looked like a little pea within the enveloping pod of his huge arms. “Yep, he’s impossibly handsome. Thank God he got my genes.”

  His sister knocked him on the shoulder for the comment. Shane released a soul-deep laugh that echoed in Emma’s heart chambers.

  Emma chose a seat at the opposite end of the dining table, allowing them all time to bond. The three came together effortlessly, bringing up various memories, poking fun at Shane’s first attempt to change a diaper, discussing ways to soothe the fretful baby boy.

  Emma marveled at the accepting, loving family dynamic they were so lucky to share.

  In contrast, she’d fought hard and mostly lost trying to salvage what little family she had, giving up any last idyllic notions when her mother passed two years ago. Only she remained, still whole—mostly—in the wake of so much brokenness.

  Raw places in her heart ached with yearning as she absorbed every warm laugh, every good-natured jest, every easy embrace. Her eyes misted.

  When no one’s brilliant ideas worked to stop the boy’s crying, Shane’s mom brought him over to Emma. Surprised, Emma tried to protest. Instead, she found herself holding the week-old infant who instantly quieted in her arms.

  Pressing her cheek to the baby’s whisper-soft hair, she inhaled his heady newborn scent. “What a precious miracle you are,” she whispered.

  Absorbed in the beauty of the moment, several minutes passed before Emma realized the room had gone silent. She lifted her gaze from the baby. Three faces stared at her with varying degrees of astonishment.

  Shane’s jaw hung loose, his lips slightly parted. His expression revealed an odd look, like she’d presented an intriguing puzzle he couldn’t quite put together. His gaze encompassed her and his nephew as if she and the child comprised a single unit in their own universe, separate from everything else in that moment. She went still under his arrested stare.

  His mother sent a sidelong glance at her son. A perceptive half-smile poised at the corner of her mouth, but she said nothing.

  Blonde eyebrows lifting, Suzie blurted, “Emma, tell me you babysit. Whatever you charge, we’ll pay.”
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  “I adore kids, but I’m not sure I’m good at babysitting.” She attempted to hand the baby back to someone. No one leaped at the chance to shift the now quiet child.

  Emma swallowed, accepting a few more special moments with the boy. She gazed down at the surprisingly calm bundle in the cradle of her arms. He yawned, appearing contented right where he rested. His miniature fingers curled around her thumb. His tiny face and unfocused eyes, still filled with angel dust, tugged at all her heartstrings.

  “Nadine said last night at the auction she’d be stopping by to see the baby.” Shane filed a hand through his hair.

  The gesture wasn’t lost on his mother, who came toward Emma with outstretched hands. She squeezed Emma’s shoulders, then retrieved the baby. “And you have an obligation to meet this weekend.” She winked at Emma. “You two should get going.”

  Shane kissed Nancy on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “I’m the one who convinced him to sign up for the bachelor auction,” Suzie told Emma in gloating tones. “How nicely that’s worked out for you, Shane.” She lowered her voice and sent him a conspiratorial grin. “Feel free to come by and thank me profusely before you leave on a plane back to Denver.”

  Red crested his cheekbones. “For a good cause.”

  “One we all stand behind,” his mother confirmed, pride shining in her eyes.

  He hugged his sister, caressed the cheeks of his nephew who dozed in Nancy’s arms, kissed Nancy’s cheek and waved goodbye. Then he guided Emma out the front door.

  On their way, as the screen door slammed, he screeched to a halt. Emma bumped into him. She watched his hands instinctively flex into fists before his fingers eased, shaking a little.

  “Mrs. Laster,” he said, as if his lungs had trouble taking in air.

  The older woman on the front sidewalk, carrying a neatly covered dish, startled at the sound of voice. She looked up and seemed to wince as pain shadowing her eyes. “Oh. Shane. Hello.”

  A tension Emma couldn’t fathom thickened in the summer air. “Mom will be glad you’re here.”

  “I-I came to see the baby.” Unnamed grief welled in the woman’s eyes. She seemed to look right through Shane, unwilling or unable to see him standing before her. “I hope—I hope you’re doing well.”

  “Doing the best I can, Mrs. Laster. Thanks for asking.”

  “Good, good.” A fraught moment stretched between them. “I…I’ll go inside now.”

  “Sure.” Shane left Emma’s side to open the door for the woman. “How are you?” he asked under his breath.

  “Well, you know. Still one day at a time.” She tried on a brave smile that didn’t quite conform to her lips. “It’s good to see you, Shane. I’m glad things are going well for you.” She nodded. “Truly.”

  Shane nodded in return. “Thank you. Have a good one.”

  The screen door eased shut behind the woman who entered the house. Shane stared after it, a tumble of emotions spilling across his features.

  When the latch clicked, it snapped him back into the present. His shoulders eased their tension.

  The focus returned to his eyes when they landed on her, and he oozed that casual, attentive charm he offered effortlessly. But she couldn’t un-see him with all his well-constructed walls crashed down, exposing vulnerabilities she probably wasn’t supposed to have witnessed.

  Everyone had walls, and vulnerabilities they tried to protect. She suspected by the end of this weekend, he’d see through her defenses and straight to her vulnerabilities. Inevitable, really, considering she’d chosen this weekend, this man, to help her become stronger. People didn’t grow stronger without first confronting the weaknesses holding them back.

  After this morning, the thought wasn’t as terrifying as it would’ve been, had she not met his family and watched the mysterious exchange between him and Mrs. Laster.

  What had happened there?

  As he unlocked the Jeep and opened the car door for her, she slid inside without meeting his eyes. She wasn’t the only one with secrets she’d fight to keep at all costs.

  Chapter Four

  IN THE MILITARY, Shane had learned how to quickly and accurately judge people.

  Emma was intelligent and perceptive—something Shane had noticed and appreciated about her from the start. She was also respectful, avoided asking questions that dove too deep or drilled beyond walls that deserved respectful distance. She was also kind. She showed the level of kindness that ran through a person’s deepest moral fibers.

  Thankfully, she drew on all those admirable qualities by not once ask about the painfully awkward encounter with Mrs. Laster. He could’ve kissed her.

  He just might, before the night was over. Especially after he’d seen the way his nephew had responded in her arms. The moment had flattened him. Seeing her hold a baby drilled down into a deeper well, into feelings he wasn’t prepared to investigate, because they’d just met. Yet the baby, only a week old, knew a good thing when he had it. Shane suspected he’d discover the same closeness and sentiment with Emma, even before their weekend ended.

  Until then, they had a long day ahead.

  Thinking along these lines, as they drove to the private facility where their boot camp training would take place, he tried his best to explain the scenario. Not to mention, he needed confirmation on something.

  “Hey,” he said, gesturing so the side of his hand brushed her leg. He marveled at the tingling intensity he felt every time he accidentally—or deliberately—touched her. “You said you wanted this to be an authentic boot camp weekend.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Exactly how authentic are we talking?”

  “That’s a fair question.” Nodding, she tightened her hands in her lap.

  A sign of bravery or uncertainty? Both, he decided, honoring the guts it took for her to bid on him and this date in the first place.

  “I want you to treat me like I’m here to learn—really learn, you know? I’m taking this seriously. I want to feel like a true recruit. No special favors or conditions. I want to go beyond what I think I’m capable of accomplishing. I want to be challenged because I want to change.”

  “Why do you think you need to change?”

  “I want—” She paused. From the corner of his eye, he saw her swallowed hard. “I want to become someone who doesn’t freeze in the face of threats.”

  “Hold on, honey.” He took her hand in a loose, confident grip, because it felt like the right thing to do. She didn’t pull away, and he spent a few seconds molding his pressure, testing the sensation of her hand in his.

  The way she trusted him stimulated his sense of duty and protectiveness. His fingers closed more firmly around hers.

  “Some of the best in the military can freeze, even when we shouldn’t. Sometimes the shock of an unexpected situation seizes every rational sense and we’re paralyzed. That’s not some weak, civilian-only response.”

  Her fingers tightened like tendrils of hope around his. “It’s not?”

  “Hell, no,” he assured. “If you want me to train the humanity out of you, you’ve got the wrong guy. But,” he was quick to add, “I will teach you how to better master those fear-based responses when they come up. In our training this weekend, I can show you how to overcome the point where you’re ready to give up. I can show you ways to take back control when you feel like you’ve lost it. Just remember, we’re all still human.”

  “Okay,” she said with a sigh, her tone receptive. Relieved?

  He explained, “Your response to those guys mugging you was exactly the right thing to do. You’re still alive. That’s a victory. You survived. You had no way of knowing what weapons they had, or how far they were willing to go to escape without repercussions.”

  It boiled his blood imagining her fear. Thinking about how those opportunist thugs had taken advantage of her, he wished he could go back in time and fight them all to protect her. He hated seeing innocent people suffer because of others’ immorality.

  “Be
st case scenario, skill mixed with bravado saves the day. Other times, skill mixed with recklessness equals a discharge—or worse. Ask Julian Teck, who was kicked out of our unit because he couldn’t keep himself out of bar brawls. For the second scenario, I’d say talk to Mike Walker. Sadly, that brave marine is no longer with us to ask. There’s no perfect response to a bad situation. Does that make sense?”

  She squeezed his hand, and his insides did a cartwheel. “It does. Thank you for saying that. I feel less helpless.”

  Lowering his shades, he sent her a sultry stare over the rims. “You will when I’m done with you.”

  He flicked his aviators back up onto the bridge of his nose, kissed the delicate ridge of her knuckles and released his hold. He set a dual grip on the Jeep’s steering wheel and pulled off the two-lane highway onto the winding entrance to the military school run by his buddy, Mick Chesney.

  “No relation to the country singer,” Shane said.

  “That’s a bummer.”

  “I know. I’ve told him he needs better relatives.”

  Her laughter rang in the car. The sound resembled background music he needed more of in his life. A lot more of—and that meant he needed a lot more of her.

  To Emma’s mind, Mick Chesney looked the way a professional running a military school should. Almost as tall as Shane, he was clean-shaven and had a severe buzz cut, wore a gray t-shirt with MARINE printed across the chest, a Lanier around his neck bearing his photo ID and a whistle, black pants and black combat boots.

  “Good timing for your weekend plans. The last of the students left today,” Mick said. The three of them trudged from the green campus lawns through a densely wooded area where mud creeped up the cork heels of her wedge sandals. She grimaced, hoping the stains weren’t permanent.

  “Is that why we couldn’t stay at the main campus?” she asked, growing concerned about the housing scenario, considering they’d walked at least a mile from the five-story main building that looked like a small college campus, surrounded by four tidy brick dormitories.