“A blessing?” Bethany scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve seen the movies. I know how this works. You drop me off in some forsaken town in the middle of nowhere where I live out my days wondering if I’ll ever be able to return to my old life. No siree. Not me. I’m refusing your assistance. I think I’ll take my chances.”
Maybe she couldn’t go back to her apartment, but she had other places she could go. Her grandparent’s abandoned farmhouse in northern California, for a start. Or maybe, she’d just pick a new apartment across the city. Surely, it was far too big of a place to ever run into Mathew or Gerald Void again. She didn’t need the FBI’s help. And she wouldn’t be taken hostage by the very people who were supposed to help her.
She walked toward the door and Troy stepped in her path, his mountainous bulk standing firm. He made no move to touch her, but instead, pinned her with a heavy gaze.
“If I have to, I will arrest you, Bethany. Don’t make me do it.”
Frustration bubbled up inside her. She jabbed him in the chest with her finger, not angry enough to miss how solid his pectoral muscles felt through his black suit. “If you think I’m going to let a bully like you tell me what to do, you’ve got another thing coming.”
He grabbed her hand and held it firmly between his own. Her heart seemed to flutter with anticipation and her skin burned under his as he swallowed slowly and sighed. “Believe me, no one hates this plan more than me. I didn’t sign up for this job to become a glorified babysitter. But you’re stuck with me, so you might as well accept it.”
“Fine.” She tore her hand out of his grasp and rubbed away the burning sensation on her palm.
Turning away, she stared into the large mirrored wall. She didn’t want him to see the tiny part inside of her rejoicing at Agent Troy’s assignment on her case. There was something about him that made her feel safe. Maybe it was his massive size or that steady, un-arming gaze of his. If she had to have a bodyguard, she’d choose him any day.
But only if she had to have a bodyguard. That wasn’t today.
“I’m not leaving the Las Vegas area,” she said, turning back to face him. Steel entered her voice. “I can’t leave my mother. She has Alzheimer’s. She’s already fading away. If I leave her, who knows how much longer she’ll last.”
For a short moment, the stoic mask Troy wore seemed to melt away and pity entered his blue-green eyes. He pressed his lips together in thought and then nodded his head. “Stay here. We need provisions before we talk about this.”
He was gone before she could object. Thirty seconds later, he returned to the interview room cradling a pink box in his massive hands. Sliding it onto the metal table, he motioned at Bethany to retake her seat.
“This is top secret information I’m about to divulge to you,” he said, his voice serious. He opened the box and peered inside. “Anyone who knows me knows that I don’t have many weaknesses, but sweets happen to be one of them. It’s my kryptonite. Mainstreet Bakery is the best in the area. Join me in a dessert, then we can discuss the details of your protection order. I promise, you’ll feel a lot better with a bit of sugar in your system.”
She regarded him with suspicion. A man as muscular and tightly packed as Troy didn’t seem like the kind of guy to have a sugar addiction. Surely, he lived on protein shakes and amino acids. The one time she’d made the mistake of joining a gym, that seemed to be what all the guys were drinking.
Still, Troy didn’t hesitate to lift a powdered donut to his mouth and slowly bite into the soft pastry. He moaned with pleasure, licking the leftover sugar from the corner of his mouth. Blood rushed through Bethany’s ears as she watched him eat. She almost felt like she was intruding on something private.
“Seriously, have one,” he said, inching the box toward her. “They’re to die for.”
With a twisted frown, she went for a cream-filled donut with multi-colored sprinkles on top. Once her tongue hit the flaky goodness of the donut, it was all over. She inhaled in surprise, shoving a larger bite into her mouth to confirm its deliciousness.
“I’ve never tasted anything this wonderful in my life,” she said, catching a drop of Bavarian cream on her tongue.
Troy’s eyes twinkled as he watched her. “Told you. Now, can we have this discussion without you poking a hole in my chest, or am I going to have to get out my handcuffs?”
Bethany blushed violently. She choked on her donut and washed it down with a gulp of water from her cup.
“I’ll behave, I promise.” She finished the pastry and held up her hands. “No more poking.”
“Good,” Troy replied, straightening his suit. “Because I just had this tie dry-cleaned. I’d hate to get frosting on it.”
She blinked at him, trying to figure out the man across from her. He seemed so serious. So stoic. And yet, he might have just tried to crack a joke. She wasn’t sure if she should laugh or not. Instead, she folded her hands in her lap and gave him an unsure smile.
“Okay, if we’re going to discuss my protection, then I want to make a few requests.” She cocked her head to one side, waiting for his reaction. He nodded for her to continue. “I just accepted a job at the Richards Foundation. I’d like to continue working there.”
“Impossible.” His voice was emotionless, yet firm.
Bethany exhaled a breath and scowled. “Why not?”
“With Gerald Void’s connections in this town, he’d snap you up faster than you can say social security number.” Troy tapped his fingers on the table and gave her a matter-of-fact shrug. “It’s too dangerous. You’ll have to forget about the job. It’s not going to happen.”
Fierce disappointment burned in her chest. So much for it being her lucky year. It wasn’t even day one and she’d already lost her perfect job. She should’ve listened to her mother and taken that gross rabbit’s foot charm she’d tried to give her last week—instead of tossing it in the trash on the way out of the nursing home. Maybe then, she could’ve turned things around.
“Fine.” Her neck strained against the emotion in her voice. “But I’m not leaving the Las Vegas area and that’s final.”
Troy frowned, the lines around his mouth deepening. “My boss won’t like it. You’ll be a sitting duck.”
“Well, then, it’s a good thing I’ll have you guarding me.” She returned his expression with a challenge. “Or should I be worried about the competency of my new bodyguard?”
Troy bristled at her comment. He scowled and banged his fist on the table, making her jump. “I’ll have you know that I am one of the finest agents in this bureau. Graduated top of my class. You couldn’t be in safer hands.”
Bethany crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? Then why are you stuck on babysitting duty?”
She couldn’t help but laugh at the sour expression that crossed his face. Despite the fact that she would be relying upon the agent in front of her for protection from now on, it was satisfying to know that she could get under his skin. He wasn’t completely devoid of feeling.
“That’s a story for another day.” He grumbled and shifted in his chair. “You win. We’ll find a spot in a Las Vegas suburb to camp out.” Bethany opened her mouth to argue, but he held up his finger. “That’s the best you’re getting from me. It’s either that, or we drop you in some forgotten town in Wisconsin. Take your choice.”
It was her turn to grumble. She wrinkled her nose and sighed. “Fine. I just need to be within a suitable distance to my mother. In case something should happen to her.”
Troy shrugged. “That’s allowable, but for the time being, I’d suggest you cut off contact. If only for a few days, until we can figure out where this case is going.”
As much as she hated the idea, she knew her mother would be okay without her for the next week. She threw up her hands. “Fine.”
“Fine.” The corner of Troy’s mouth twitched. “I guess we’re all settled then.”
“I guess so.”
She couldn’t help
but feel like she’d lost a major battle, even if Agent Troy had allowed her to stay in the Las Vegas area. Her whole life was about to be upended. He had no idea how hard it was to give it all up, not knowing when she could return.
“There’s just one last thing.” She smiled sweetly at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. This last bit was non-negotiable. “We have to pick up Samson along the way. He’ll be expecting his momma. We can’t leave without him.”
The color drained from Troy’s handsome face and his jaw dropped. “You have a kid? I didn’t see that in your report.”
“A twenty-five pound four-legged kid with orange fur and a fetish for canned tuna.” She flashed her teeth in a brilliant smile. “He’s my cat. We’re not leaving without him and that’s final.”
Troy wrinkled his nose and grunted. “I’m allergic to cats.”
“Well, I’m allergic to the suburbs.” She splayed her hands on the table and stood up, suddenly feeling slightly more upbeat. “So, I guess we’ll both just have to suffer.”
If Agent Troy was going to force a city-dwelling woman like herself to adjust to the boring life of the Las Vegas suburbs, he’d have to accept the consequences. And just maybe, Gerald Void would be arrested and they’d both be free of each other in a few days.
She could only hope.
Chapter Six
Troy
Troy dropped a shotgun on the bed and tucked his lucky Glock in the nightstand beside his new bed. One could never be too sure when it came to a lockdown situation. He’d already stashed a rifle in the closet and various boxes of ammo around the house the FBI had procured for them. He doubted Gerald Void or his people would come knocking, but he wasn’t the kind of man to go unprepared. If the Voids wanted Bethany Reed, they’d have to go through him.
“Is all of this really necessary?”
Troy turned to see Bethany standing in the doorway to his room, her arms crossed over a soft white tee. She’d changed into that and a pair of fitted jeans with black ankle boots after an armed escort to her studio apartment to pick up some of her belongings—plus that awful smelly thing she liked to call a cat. The darned thing was circling her leg at the moment, throwing murderous expressions his way.
Bethany’s hazel eyes darted between him and the gun on the pleated FBI-issued comforter. “It looks like you’re preparing for the zombie apocalypse. I’m pretty sure you won’t need any of that. Las Vegas is a huge place. Don’t you think it’s unlikely they’ll find us?”
“I told you I don’t believe in luck.” Troy picked the shotgun off the bed and raised his eyebrow at her. “If you come prepared, you don’t need any luck.”
She rolled her eyes and snorted softly. “Whatever you say, Agent Troy. But I’m pretty sure this is all overkill.”
The muscles in his jaw twitched as he went to stash the gun behind his new dresser. He could feel her gaze following him across the room and for some reason, he felt a twinge of nerves in his stomach. He was never nervous on the job. Nerves were for wet-behind-the-ears new recruits. Not Agent Troy.
With a huff, he straightened his back and fixed her with a stare. “You can just call me Troy. We’re married, after all. We’ve even got the marriage certificate to prove it.”
Her cheeks turned pink and she crossed her arms tighter over her abdomen. “Right. Married.” She glanced at the bed, and then to her bedroom across the hall. “I don’t know many married people who sleep in separate bedrooms.” He stared at her, unsure what to say until she met his eyes and blushed again. “What I mean to say is, how is this going to work?”
“We’re just a normal, married couple.” He pulled a sheet of paper out of his briefcase and handed it to her. Agent O’Brien had had his team put together their cover in record time. “I work from home as a computer tech. You’re a part-time blogger. Memorize this sheet of paper and we shouldn’t have a problem. A good cover means blending in seamlessly with the natives. ”
“Part-time blogger? Are you serious?” Her mouth fell open as her eyes scanned the paper. “According to this, we met when I was waitressing at a bar downtown and spilled a drink in your lap.”
He wasn’t sure why she had a problem. He shrugged and began to pull his clothes out of his duffle bag. “Sounds legit to me.”
“Sounds cliché to me.” She cocked her hip and grimaced at the sheet. “Apparently I blog about beauty and fitness tips, along with how to cook nutritious meals for your family.” With a single arched eyebrow, she glared up at him. “Here’s a question for you: am I a woman, or a life-sized Barbie doll?”
Troy could hear the warning bells go off in his head. Something told him that it would be safer if he didn’t reply, but he couldn’t help himself.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“What’s wrong is that most women have interests outside of the way they look and how to please their husbands.” Her eyes narrowed and she crumpled up the paper.
They’d hardly been in their new house in the Las Vegas suburbs for three hours and already Bethany was causing trouble. Troy sighed and willed himself to stay calm. For all he knew, his boss and the other agents were already hot on the trail of Gerald Void. This was only temporary. As long as he could put up with Bethany and her cat for a few days, they’d all get out of this alive.
“Listen, I didn’t put that together.” He shrugged and went to pass her. There were things that needed unpacking downstairs. More surveillance devices. “Just make sure you memorize it. That little sheet of paper could mean the difference between life and death out here. One slip, and Void’s people could be knocking at our door.”
He stopped next to her and paused. A shiver had passed over her at his harsh words. He placed his hand lightly on her shoulder, feeling the sudden urge to comfort her. Warmth spread throughout his hand and up his arm.
“Bethany, I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She looked up at him, her brown eyes dilating. “Promise?”
“Promise.” With a small quirk of a smile, he dropped his hand from her shoulder and dug into his jean pocket for something he’d stashed there an hour ago. He’d picked it out for her, from the FBI’s storage lockers. There was something about it that seemed to beckon to him. “Here, give me your left hand.”
She held it out with uncertainty flashing in her eyes. He pulled a gorgeous double white gold band with a solitary diamond from his pocket and slipped it on her slender finger. The pads of his fingers brushed against the soft, smooth surface of her skin, causing tingles to shoot up his arm.
“There, we’re officially Mr. and Mrs. Hansen. Two newlyweds fresh off the boat from Illinois.” He dropped her hand, as if it had burned him.
She glanced up at him, her lips parted slightly and blinked hard. “What about yours?”
“Oh, yeah.” He shoved his hand back into his pocket to pull out a matching silver band. It slid smoothly onto his ring finger. “Now, it’s official.”
“Right.” She studied the ring and frowned. “Newlyweds. I suppose that means we’re deeply in love. You know, in the honeymoon phase?”
His jaw twitched. “I suppose...”
“Just wanted to make sure for our cover.” She smiled slyly at him, a twinkle in her eyes. “Especially if it’s a matter of life or death.”
Before he had a chance to respond, the doorbell rang. Bethany jumped at the noise and clung to his upper arm.
“Any chance one of those guns is for me?” she asked, her eyes darting down the stairs to the front door and back.
“Relax, it’s just the doorbell,” Troy said, trying his best not to laugh. That hadn’t taken her long to rethink her stance on his gun policy. “It’s probably just a neighborhood kid pulling a prank. There’s no way Void’s people know you’re here. The only ones privy to that information is you, me, and Agent O’Brien.”
She nodded and puffed her cheeks out with a long release of breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Should I go see if anyone’s there?”
�
�It would be preferable to you cutting off circulation to my arm.” He looked pointedly at where her hands still clutched at his bicep.
With a reddening face, she dropped her hands. Troy had to fight off the urge to laugh once again. The tough girl act was endearing, in an odd sort of way.
Bethany headed down the stairs and Troy followed. He ran his hand over his head, feeling strange in his casual getup of jeans and a tee. As if he were a superhero stripped of his powers. The last girl he’d dated had once accused him of being born in a suit. She’d never seen him out of it. Troy preferred it that way. It was his uniform; his way of announcing to the world that he was a man of worth.
Bethany stopped just short of the entrance to their new home. It was a thick wooden door in a classy dark stain with a rectangular tempered glass cutout in the middle. It stood underneath a modest chandelier light fixture that lit up the foyer and reached into the open layout of the house. Everything about the home screamed upper-middle-class suburban lifestyle. From the gray speckled granite countertops to the immaculately trimmed green lawn outside.
Troy’s mother would’ve loved this place. But a single-income family reliant on his father’s state trooper position just couldn’t afford something like this. It wasn’t until his dad retired and moved them to Montana to live on his family’s ranch did his mother get to choose her own paint colors. All the apartments they’d lived in before had been a boring beige or cream. Last time Troy talked to his folks on the phone, his father had laughed about his mother’s choice of neon green for the kitchen. Apparently, she’d gone a little hog wild.
“There’s a woman there,” Bethany said suddenly, drawing Troy from his thoughts. She was staring out the small window, worry etched in the lines on her forehead. “What do I do?”
“Answer it.” He resisted the urge to smirk. “But stick to the cover story, got it? I’m a computer tech and you’re a blogger.”
“Right.” The worry melted from her face and the annoyed grimace returned. “Blogger. No problem.”
Bethany swung the door open to reveal a slender woman standing on the porch, holding a casserole dish in her hands. She had to be in her early thirties with her blonde hair perfectly curled and swept up into a knot at the base of her neck. A red-lipsticked smile stretched from ear to ear, showing off her straight white teeth. She regarded them both like a dog staring at a treat. Troy was certain that her cheeks had to be hurting from the strain of smiling so much.
Faking Ever After with the Bodyguard: A Sweet Fake Romance Page 4