Page 51 of The Bodyguard's Fall

“Did you like that, Rawlins?” I could hear the amusement in his voice, and it infuriated me.

“No. Just…shut up.”

“We were undercover. You knew it!” he said.

“I know! Just…stop messing with me.”

He stopped abruptly, his hands on my arms stopping me from running into his chest. He spoke lower, softer. “I’m not messing with you. We tried Will’s way, but it didn’t work. Let’s try this. We’re in control. We’ll be ready for when he comes.”

I slowed but kept walking. I was weak, and he knew it. And then he threw in the closer.

“You really want to go back to your apartment? Alone? Just to run again in a few weeks?”

I stopped. That did it. He got me where it hurt. I couldn’t stomach the idea of going back to my apartment alone. Living with the Walkers had made me crave people, the comforting voices throughout the house, the laughter at the dinner table…the safety in numbers. And, much to my obvious remorse…Tate Walker.

Sighing, I turned back around. “Fine.”

His brows rose, and he held out his hand. When I reached for it, he pulled back slightly. “You have to listen to me,” he warned. “By nature of this whole operation, I’ll be bossing you around, as you so lovingly like to put it. But for this plan to work, I need you with me. We’ll be out in town doing lots of things together. No more hiding.”

My eyes narrowed. “Why does this feel dangerous in a different way?”

“‘Cause you’re a big chicken.”

I glowered, sliding my hand into his and shaking it.

Perhaps I should have waited to shake his hand until after he laid out the details.

“Alright, here’s the deal: we’ve got to get you off this farm more. If you’re having trouble getting ideas to write, then we’re going to visit everywhere you have in your book. Hopefully, we’ll kill two birds with one stone. You’ll get seen, and with me holding your hand, you’ll be plenty inspired for your romance.”

I scoffed. He bit back a smile and kept going.

“We’ll take some pictures of us and put them on your social media accounts. Tell your work and anyone else you talk to where you’re living. And I want to teach you some self-defense.”

I looked at Tate, who stood with his arms crossed. “Why?”

“I’ll give you one guess.”

“I know why,” I quickly added, “but why now?”

“I know you took your class and everything, but it might be a good idea to go over some basics again, just in case Sensei Smith forgot something.”

At my withering stare, he grinned. And then he turned serious.

“Because you froze when I asked what you’d do if Leroy came up to you. And that scared me. I need to know I’m not guarding a wimp. Show me what you’ve got.”

My heart dropped with a thud. If he thought I was going to show him the Hiya! scream my instructor was adamant we said anytime we struck or did a roundhouse kick, he was severely mistaken.

“No.”

“Yes.”

I nodded toward his butt. I hardly even noticed the limp anymore, but he could be putting on a show for all I knew.

“I can’t fight an injured man. I’ll feel bad when I clock you.”

“Let’s worry about that when it actually happens.” He gave another slow, reckless kind of smile. The kind of smile that reached his eyes. I became alarmed at the hairs rising on my skin and the sudden speed of my heart rate. I typically liked men who were sweet and friendly. I didn’t do the broody and the slightly condescending. Though, I was discovering that…at times…they could also hold a certain kind of…allure.

I was going to lose this exchange. One pale and slightly frumpy hermit didn’t go up against a tall badge with muscles and win. But the amusement in his eyes sent sparks of delusion firing off into my brain.