Page 6 of Brooding Bodyguard Summer

Now her gaze narrows and I know I fucked up. I mean, I have been fucking up this entire thing from the moment I climbed that wall. I should have listened to Mateo. Gone home, got some sleep, taken a breather. I must be too far gone. I am not sane anymore. That has to be it. Why I hate how sad she looks, why I am so drawn to her, why I cannot stand the idea that she is in danger.

“Leave. Me. Alone. Do your job without getting close to me again.”

Noemi turns to rush through the crowd, leaving me in her wake.

Chapter Four

Noemi

Despite my life of privilege, I never acted spoiled—until now.

It’s been three days since Neko Walsh snuck inside my bedroom. Three days of him being my shadow, always right behind me, never close enough. No, he has been the perfect gentleman. Which has been driving me insane.

To be fair, he has catered to each of my whims. Go to the lower market. Go to the park to paint. Stay up late watching old black and white movies I sense he had little tolerance for. Even now, here at this pub downtown, he has given me just what I asked.

I wanted a drink at a dive bar.

Neko brought me here, ordered me an old fashioned, then put distance between us. It’s no the sticky floors, the awful music, or the scent of desperation that has me in a mood. It is that damn distance. Since he first let me touch him, I have craved his closeness, craved his touch, and he won’t let me have it.

“Another darlin’,” asks the bartender as he tips his head at the glace I just emptied.

“Yes…yes, I will take another, handsome,” I shoot back with much more confidence than I truly have.

Whether Neko notices or not, my hint of flirtiness leaves the bartender blushing down to his apron. Okay, good—I'm not a total disaster. I thank him for the drink, offering a lingering smile that turns his face an even deeper shade of crimson. Flirting really is so much fun when it works.

Too bad it does not seem to work on Neko. Not since that first day out at the market, at least. My fault—he pissed me off and I showed my uglier sided. I tilt my glass, watching the amber liquid swirl around the ice, but my eyes are fixed on the mirror behind the bar.

Reflected in the glass, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his broad chest, is Neko. He looks as immovable as a marble statue, his usual all black ensemble making him seem a dark, dangerous shadow. His dark eyes sweep the quiet bar, methodical and entirely indifferent to how I prop myself up for his viewing pleasure.

I sigh, taking a slow sip, and decide to at least have some fun.

Turning, I hop down from the stool, my heels clicking on the shining hardwood. I glide across the floor, pretending to be as oblivious to his existence as he seems to be to mine. My pink dress conforms to my curves and I am so glad I got it at the market. Father would not approve. Hell, he would not approve of anything I’ve done since he hired Neko to protect me.

Neko won’t tell me why my father hired a brand-new detail for me. It’s not as if he has to spell it out. We’ve been through this before. My father hired someone to protect my mother, but it was too late for her. I ought to be more worried about whatever threat is out there looking for me.

To be honest…meeting Neko is the first thing to make me feel alive in a long time. Even if he ignores my flirtations. If he pretends he is just being kind when I ask him to let me have my way. Being with him, having his presence so close now has brought me to life for the first time.

“Lookin’ good, babes,” a rough voice calls, stopping me as I pass through the bar. It’s mostly empty so it’s impossible to miss this man’s words are meant for me.

I stop my stroll towards Neko. Because someone ought to enjoy my flirting if he won’t. Turning back to the man with the thick beard and sleeves of tattoos inked down his thick arms, I offer a smile I hope is playful. His hand comes out to circle my wrist, tugging me closer to his table.

“Well, hi,” I offer, running a hand through my hair. “Can I join you?”

“Sure can,” he shoots back, giving a tug at my wrist.

Before I can stop my forward movement, I topple forward. I land in his lap, his long legs stretched out so mine are tucked between his. I am momentarily trapped. He smells of oil and cigarettes. Not clean soap and good cologne like Neko. Yeah, but Neko doesn’t want you touching him.

That ugly lament echoes in my head, cutting me deep.

I am not a flake of a girl. I do not flirt with my father’s hired hands. I’ve never tried to make any of them notice me or let me touch them, despite how much I crave being touched. Neko is the first man I ever wanted to touch and once he let me…now it’s all I want to do.

“You look bored,” new guy says, tilting his head back so our gazes meet. “Why don’t you let me fix that for you, babes?”

“I think…”

“If you want to keep all your limbs, I think you better take those filthy hands off her, chief.”

It’s whispered low, but dangerously so. I blink up at Neko, flushing when I see how irate he is. Good. Serves him right for pretending he is immune to me. I start to press closer to the fun stranger when his gaze catches mine. I think better of challenging whatever is behind that look.