Page 14 of The Bodyguard's Fall

While they conversed, I turned back to Jaxon.

“Sorry Will roped you into babysitting duty. I promise I’ll be good,” I told him as, somewhere behind me, a back door opened into the kitchen, flooding the room with the smell of fresh-cut hay and a late-summer dew.

Jaxon’s eyebrows furrowed. “Huh?”

I motioned to him and Luke. “I’m sorry you’re stuck watching me. Will’s going overboard with this whole thing.”

He wasn’t really, but as I’ve been suddenly thrust into this family’s life, the instinct to protect my dignity was strong.

He held up his hands in front of him. “I’m not the one watching you.”

I looked at Will, already knowing what was coming. And when those eyes flicked guiltily from mine to something behind me, it was confirmed.

“We’ll all be around to help, but we’re not in law,” Jaxon said. He nodded toward something past my shoulder, speaking a little louder. “Although, I could probably still outshoot him. And now that he’s on the injured list, I could definitely outrun him, but…he’s your guy. Your babysitter? Is that what you called him?” He started to laugh.

Somewhere deep inside, I’d known it was going to come to this. It was the only thing that made sense, though I’d spent the entire car ride trying not to see it.

Will was a dead man.

When there was nothing for it but to meet my fate, I turned to see Tate Walker leaning against the counter, his arms folded, watching me. He was just like I remembered him, tall and strong and with an annoyingly confident air about him. But to my surprise, instead of dread, the tiniest surge of anticipation ran through me at being in such close proximity to him again. Until I flicked the feeling away. It didn’t make sense. He was bossy. Arrogant. And even the current vision of him standing in front of me, looking boyish and wearing a worn-out baseball hat over tousled brown hair, couldn’t save him. I mean…it helped. But it ultimately couldn’t save him.

He had too much power and would use it against me.

With an overall air of indifference to my obvious turmoil, Tate raised his eyebrows and waved.

Plot Twist:

It isn’t one of the sweet, fun-loving Walker brothers you thought you’d be hanging out with. It’s the other one. The one whose piercing stare can cause your insides to quake and your outsides to throw up.

“Hey, Liv,” Tate said casually, leaning back against the counter as he took me in, his blue eyes sharp and detailed in their observations. I refused to squirm under his obvious scrutiny, but when his gaze trailed briefly from the hat on the top of my head to the white Keds on my feet, a warm flush crawled up my neck.

“Hi, Tate,” I said, attempting to keep the flustered agitation at bay. I was very aware that this family was taking me in like a wounded bird, so I fought to keep a pleasant expression on my face.

I hated that Will had put me in this position.

I hadn’t seen Tate since Will’s wedding, where he saved me from Leroy. Before that, we were in high school, and he was physically removing me from parties. Our history was complicated. But now, here he was, the picture of health. Was it too much to ask for a potbelly and a balding head? Unfortunately, he was still extremely attractive—if a girl enjoyed the tall, mouthy, stoic type.

Which I did not.

Will cleared his throat from somewhere behind me. “Well, I’d better get going.”

He then proceeded to blatantly ignore me as he stepped forward to—cheerfully, I might add—shake the hand of his accomplice.

“Thanks, man. This feels like old times. If she’s too much trouble, just make her walk the line or something.” Will looked over at my horrified face and grinned, batting a thousand today.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Tate said, a faint smile on his face as he flicked his eyes my way again.

Will employed his exit strategy over the next couple of minutes, gracing the Walker kitchen with charm and more aggravating small talk. Before he exited the kitchen, he turned toward me.

“Liv, will you follow me out?” Then, looking at Tate, he added, “Tate, give us a minute alone and then come outside. I have some last-minute instructions for both of you.”

Once it was just the two of us standing outside of his car, he held out a hand, a warning look on his face. “I couldn’t tell you it was Tate because you would have jumped out of the car.”

“You lied to me. You said he still lived in Burlington.”

“He does. He got hurt and is off duty for a while. I’ll let him tell you about it.” At my scowl, he added cheerfully, “Since you’ll be spending quite a bit of time together.”

There were so many things I wanted to tell him, but there was no time to get into the weeds of it all. What came out instead was something between mortification and resignation.