Page 11 of Last First Kiss
“I’ll call Monroe’s people and let them know how amenable and excited you are to get started. Later, Xan.”
“Later, Joe.”
“Oh, and Annie?” he asked before leaving. “Don’t shut me out again. When I call you pick up the phone, okay?”
She puffed out a breath. God, she loved her brother. “Never again. Love you, Joe.”
“Yeah, yeah. Love you too, kid.”
Once he left, Xan practically jumped and pirouetted to the couch. “Rocco Freakin’ Monroe! I better be your maid of honor at the wedding of the century! Mrs. Anabelle Monroe.”
She flung herself back on the sofa and covered her face with a pillow. “Ugh! It’s just going to be pretend.”
Xander chuckled. “Famous last words, honey. Famous last words.”
* * *
“How’d it go with ICS on Wednesday?” Paul asked as he spotted Rocco’s weight training. On an exhale, Rocco lifted the weight. This was the second set and his arms were burning. With Paul’s help, he returned the weight back to its slot with a loud clang.
“Went well.”
“Really? Then why are we working out on a Saturday night?”
Usually Rocco had meetings, premieres, or photo shoots to go to, but today he’d cancelled everything and gone to his home gym. The way Annie had kicked his ass made him want to pump iron. Mostly to blow off some steam, but also to prove to himself he was fit enough to take on a girl. The woman was fire. He’d never met anyone like her. She’d barely glanced at him, except to pummel his ass, and unlike the other women in his life she didn’t, at all, swoon. And that is a word he’d heard a lot from women. He was, after all, Rocco Fucking Monroe. Sexiest Man Alive. What woman didn’t swoon? Annabelle Clad, that was who.
“Because I’ve been slacking. I need to be in tip-top shape for El Traficante.”
Paul snorted. “Slacking? You work out six days a week. Hell, we were here this morning. What’s really going on?”
Rocco didn’t want to admit what was actually bothering him. Shit, he couldn’t quite pinpoint it himself. It was a combination of everything: All the negative publicity he’d been getting, the fact that he needed a bodyguard, that a woman had tackled him to the ground, and that that same woman hadn’t even looked at him twice when he had been so instantly and ardently attracted to her. That had been a first.
But Paul was like a brother to him. They’d both grown up in the same foster care, and only by the grace of God—and luck—Rocco had been spotted by a modeling agent at a mall at seventeen and his career had taken off from there.
He sat down on a bench and wiped his brow. “My bodyguard is five foot seven, strawberry blond, hazel eyes, fucking stacked, and fucking beautiful. I don’t think she knows who the hell I am.”
It was bullshit. Of course she knew who he was. Everybody knew who he was, but Annabelle Clad didn’t seem affected by it.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Paul held up his hands, waving off Rocco’s crisis of fame. “I don’t remember NHN saying anything about a woman. You were supposed to go to the place I sent you.”
Rocco threw the towel aside and stretched his hamstrings, with a knowing smirk on his face. Paul was not going to like this. “I did. I went. The studio said I needed security. They didn’t specify gender.” And he was so glad they hadn’t because he wanted Annie, badly.
Paul groaned dramatically. “Rock, man.”
“She’s legit. Seriously.” He exhaled, and finally admitted as he switched to the other leg, “She beat me up.”
“Pardon?”
Rocco explained what had happened as he did pull-ups. “ . . . so she wanted the job and I laughed when she suggested it. Because man . . .” He shook his head thinking of the way she looked. “Wait until you see her and you’ll understand. But that was a colossal mistake because she did some kung fu shit and flipped me on my ass.”
“So naturally you hired her.”
“Well, of course. She isn’t just hot, man, she’s got skills. And she’ll blend in.”
“Have you even seen the contract yet?” Paul asked. “What are the terms? I hope you didn’t sign anything without me or your attorney reviewing it.”
Rocco released his grip and dropped down and reached for his water bottle with a shrug. It didn’t matter what he said, he was hiring Annie and that was the end of it. “Nope. Don’t care. She’s perfect. Hot as fuck.”
“Not exactly the qualifications for a bodyguard.”
