Page 40 of Archer

But all I felt was scared. And increasingly dependent on a man who’d only been in my life for two days and was quickly feeling essential to my world.

This was supposed to be simple.

Hire security. Get back to my life.

Instead, I was developing feelings for my bodyguard while someone watched from the shadows.

Simple had left the building.

And I had no idea how to get it back.

Chapter 11

Archer

I woke at four-thirty, same as every morning for the last twelve years.

Muscle memory pulled me from sleep before my alarm could sound. I silenced it and sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, head in my hands.

Last night played on repeat in my mind.

Harper had turned to me when she needed comfort. She’d trusted me, and I could still feel her in my arms. Clinging to me as if I were the only solid thing in a world that kept tilting beneath her feet.

And I’d held her. Not as her bodyguard, and not professionally.

I’d held her because I wanted to be her comforter.

“Shit.”

I stood and grabbed my running gear. If I couldn’t sleep, I’d burn off the frustration the old-fashioned way.

The cottage was silent as I moved through it. Harper’s door remained closed, her breathing steady on the other side. At least one of us was getting rest.

I slipped into the pre-dawn darkness and jogged the cottage perimeter, then the road in both directions, before heading for the sand.

The beach was empty, the ocean a black mass beside me, waves crashing in their ancient rhythm as I ran. I pushed harder, shoes pounding against packed sand, lungs burning, and my breaths manifesting in white clouds against the cold.

Knox’s voice echoed in my head. Reminding me to maintain complete professionalism. Warning me about the way he thought Harper looked at me, probably seeing exactly how I looked at her as well.

I’d assured him I had everything under control.

I’d meant it, or at least intended it, at the time.

That was before I’d spent half the night with Harper in my arms. Before I’d whispered reassurances into her hair and felt her heartbeat slow against my chest. We’d talked late into the evening, about everything, like old friends.

She was so genuine and good. I’d liked her already and wanted to protect her on principle. Now, I wanted to hunt down whoever was terrorizing her and make them pay with their teeth.

How was I supposed to keep her safe now? When I was officially, unprofessionally, attached.

I needed to regain as much personal distance as possible. That was what she needed too.

I couldn’t protect her if I was thinking about the way she’d looked at me before stepping into my arms. As if I was her safe harbor in a hurricane.

This was bad.

Neither of us could afford my distraction.

I ran until the sun broke over the horizon, illuminating the world in color. It would’ve been beautiful if I’d been able to appreciate it.