Miami Bodyguard

by Jennifer Ann

  I hold a hand over my lips and burst out laughing. “Oh my god, you’re kidding me! I hope someone reminded him to watch his mouth!”

  When I glance back at our family, I laugh even harder. Even though Katie’s already scolding my brother about something, he’s smirking like a cat that swallowed a canary. This could be the most interesting ceremony in history.

  “This is only the beginning of our night,” Asher tells me, drawing my attention back to his mischievous smile. “Next is dinner and dancing at Leona’s. Then we’re staying at the Baccarat where your brothers and sisters got us a room.”

  Anna reaches for me, so Asher hands her over. I kiss our daughter’s head with tears streaming down my cheeks. “You’re already the best husband a woman could want. And I can’t think of anything that would make me happier than becoming your wife right here and now. I would’ve been okay going the same route as Sofia and Nolan. It wasn’t necessary to go to all this trouble.”

  “Nothing about this was trouble,” he assures me with an almost possessive growl. “I wish there was something more extravagant I could’ve done to show you how much you mean to me. This wedding marks the official start of our life together. I wanted it to be extraordinary, just like my beautiful wife.” Tears glisten in his eyes when he smirks. “Besides, Sharlo and Evelyn would’ve kicked our asses. They made the comment that they still haven’t forgiven Sofia for eloping without them.”

  “Thank you for taking me back,” I whisper, stroking my fingers along his strong jaw. “Thank you for forgiving me, and for letting our daughter into your heart. You’re a good man, Asher Waldorf. I plan to spend a lifetime proving how grateful I am for your love, although it still could never be enough.”

  “The day you asked me to be this little girl’s father proved to me everything I needed to know.” He kisses me again, warm lips and gentle tongue accentuating his point. My heart melts as I slink against him, the world around us disappearing with every second. Maybe one day I’ll truly believe that I deserve his love and affection. Until then, I plan to appreciate every last second.

  I pull back when Anna’s little mittened hand pats my face. “We better hurry before our guests and daughter all turn into popsicles.”

  “Want to know the best part?” Soft kisses trail up the side of my neck, filling me with a warm lick of need. “James and Shar are taking Anna overnight.”

  Oh, this man…regardless of what he says, I plan to spend the rest of our lives together showing him how much he’s loved.

  Note from the Author

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  Also by Jennifer Ann

  KENDALL FAMILY SERIES

  Brooklyn Rockstar (FREE)

  Midwest Fighter

  Manhattan Millionaire

  Oceanside Marine

  Kendall Family Christmas

  Miami Bodyguard

  American Farmer (June 2018)

  ROCK BOTTOM SERIES

  Outrageous (3.6.18)

  STANDALONES

  Broken Little Melodies

  The Secrets Between Us

  Undercover Rockstar (Sept 2018)

  MC ROMANCE SERIES

  Inferno Glory MC

  Jawa’s Angels MC

  FALLEN HEROES DUET

  Saving Phoebe

  Saving Alexa

  NYC LOVE SERIES

  Adam’s List

  Kelly’s Quest

  Chloe’s Dream

  The Secrets Between Us

  PRAISE FOR THE SECRETS BETWEEN US

  "Holy....cow are you in for a ride! This book has it all a hot girl, a Navy SEAL, his arrogant brother and a lifetime of secrets between two families." ~Goodreads

  "The plot and writing is simply fantastic! I definitely plan on reading more from Jennifer Ann, and I can't recommend her enough! And I pretty sure my friends are sick of hearing me talk about this book." ~Cara's Book Boudoir

  “What a crazy, messed up, incredible story. The story line was intense, brutal, fun, reminiscent, and fun to read. When I say intense, I mean sitting up straighter, tearing at your nails, gripping your kindle a little harder; whatever you too as you get sucked into a story!” ~Archaeolibrarian - I Dig Good Books!

  * * *

  Some people keep secrets because the truth is too painful.

  He keeps secrets to avoid losing her.

  She keeps secrets to deliver revenge.

  Seven years have passed since Cameron Quinn and Lincoln Farrington were high school sweethearts.

  Seven years since she last saw him as the cops were taking him away.

  Seven years since he left her to become a Navy SEAL.

  When he suddenly comes back into her life, she’s forced to choose between following her heart, or sticking to a plan that would almost certainly destroy him.

  His secrets brought them together.

  Her secrets will tear them apart.

  ONE

  QUINN

  Being here is an unforgivable betrayal to the man I’ve promised to be with for the rest of my life. The man I’ll one day stand beside in a church packed with friends and family, vowing to devote my eternal love and faithfulness.

  But I don’t care. None of that’s real anyway.

  And I had to see Lincoln again.

  After all, I owe him my time. Even more so, I owe him the past seven years of his life.

  Beads of perspiration line my forehead as I watch the front of the coffee shop without blinking, willing the boy I once loved with all my heart to step through the door. My heart skips to an erratic beat when I check my smart phone for the seventh time to confirm what I already know: he’s late. What if he’s changed his mind about wanting to meet?

  It was dumb luck that I came across his recent email. I stopped using that account after high school, knowing “littleballerinagirl” was ridiculous. Yet I can’t help thinking maybe it wasn’t so much dumb luck as it was fate. My mom sent a text that same day, letting me know that she had emailed pictures to the old email address of a kitchen table she purchased at the flea market.

  It shouldn’t have been a surprise that she would think I was still using that account since she was strung out on prescription drugs for a handful of years after my dad’s death. He’s the one who had bestowed the “Little Ballerina” nickname on me when I was four because I was always twirling around the house instead of walking. On my tenth birthday I was allowed to open the account for the purpose of emailing my dad while he was working late nights, which was almost daily. I swear sometimes my mom thinks I’m still that same little girl even though, for longer than I care to dwell on, I’m the one who kept us from living out on the streets or starving to death.

  Movement at The Grind’s entrance catches my eye. I suck in a sharp breath, slowly letting it out as a couple around my age enters. The guy’s arm is slung around his girlfriend’s shoulders and she clings to his wrist, leaning into him. They’re both grinning like their life is pure gold, and nothing could bring them down. With a stabbing pang of sadness, I realize I haven’t felt that blissfully happy since high school.

  Since Lincoln.

  Rubbing at the pale strip of skin on my ring finger, I feel a slight indentation where my three carat diamond belongs. Pamela noticed I wasn’t wearing it before I left the office, so I told her I was getting it cleaned. I couldn’t tell her the truth. If by some miracle Lincoln hasn’t already heard, he won’t understand. Hell, no one would understand if they knew the whole truth. But Lincoln was always quick to form an opinion based on his emotions, so I have to plan this out carefully. As difficult as it will be to break the news to him, I have to be considerate in the event he doesn’t know, and let him down easy. He deserves t
hat.

  I stare at The Grind’s logo on the cup of cooling coffee sitting in front of me with “Quinn” scribbled over it in black marker. I don’t know what possessed me to use that name, the one usually reserved for Lincoln, except it’s been useless to shake him from my thoughts since his email first appeared on my laptop’s screen.

  Haven’t stopped thinking about you all this time. I realize you’ve probably moved on and started a different life, maybe even found a man that deserves you, but I have to see you again.

  The words scratched at the back of my brain, keeping me awake for a string of endless nights. He’s the one who pushed me away. Why the sudden change of heart? As I considered meeting him like he asked, I played out the different ways the reunion might go, imagined the varying ways he’d look at me, and what he could possibly have to say.

  After high school, he completely abandoned social media. It was like he completely disappeared off the face of the earth. I don’t exactly know what he will look like now, although I have a pretty good idea. I saw a picture of him taken the day he had graduated boot camp, and he wouldn’t look much different than his brother aside from having more muscle. I almost wished I hadn't come across the picture, because it was hard not to feel a swell of pride seeing him in the navy uniform and white hat, posing in front of the US flag. I had to quickly remind myself that he’s no longer mine.

  “Quinn?”

  I nearly choke with the sound of my old nickname. My heart slams to a standstill against my ribcage as I drag my gaze upward and come into contact with soft, soulful brown eyes surrounded by dark lashes. They’re the same eyes that once possessed my heart, only now they’re shadowed with wisdom and reverence—maybe even a suggestion of hurt.

  With the way he’s looking at me, I feel my world ending. The universe as I know it screeches to a halt. All at once I’m eighteen again, looking at the boy I knew would have my heart until the end of time.

  “Linc.”

  His name falls out as a whisper against my lips, filled with far more sentiment than I should’ve allowed. But the moderately shy boy I once loved has become a strong, confident man, broad and tall. Agony wrenches my chest when I absorb every last detail, realizing how much time has passed. Though he’s not in uniform, everything about him screams military. There’s no hiding his bulging muscles beneath a plain gray t-shirt and cargo shorts as he stands with a large khaki bag slung over one wide shoulder. A well-groomed beard frames his thick jaw, its dark color perfectly matching the closely cropped hair on his square head. Both arms are covered in detailed tattoos.

  A great shudder trickles down my spine as my belly warms. He’s so…severe looking.

  I’m not consciously aware that I’ve frozen on the stool while checking him out until I realize he’s doing the exact same thing to me. My entire body flushes with heat beneath his dark eyes as they thoroughly study every last inch, soaking in every detail that’s changed since the fateful night we last saw each other. He starts with my designer heels, dragging up my bleached skinny capris and beyond the edge of my ivory tunic to where my blond hair fans around the swell of my breasts. His gaze feels every bit as physical as a soft caress of his fingertips, turning me on in ways I can’t explain. Then again, he always had that kind of affect on me.

  He catches me watching him, my lips parted with a bolt of longing, and he releases a deep, somewhat bashful chuckle. Shivering with the absurdly masculine sound of his voice, I snap my mouth shut. I’m unable to find anything humorous about the beautiful man standing before me. Proof of my desire seeps out between my legs, making it even harder to breathe.

  An awkwardness hangs between us as his smile fades and we simply stare at each other, time disappearing as years worth of memories from happier times slowly resurface.

  “Com’ere, you,” he says, dropping his bag at his feet and motioning for me to come to him.

  Varied emotions crash into me as I stand and throw myself into his strong arms, holding back an unexpected burst of tears. The aroma of coffee disappears and my lungs fill with his fresh, clean scent, warming me from the inside out. I was convinced that I’d never feel his embrace again. Holding onto the only person who I once trusted fully with my heart is the closest feeling to being home I’ve known since my family was torn apart.

  The embrace is nothing like those we had shared as love-struck teenagers, and not just because he’s twice as big and his body’s dense with muscle…everywhere. I swear I can feel remorse seeping out of him in the way he’s holding me. Face buried in the crook of my neck, he cradles me to him like he never plans to let go, crushing the air from my chest. It reminds me of that Looney Tunes cartoon he used to always watch in which the Abominable Snowman squeezes Daffy Duck and names him George. A bubble of hysteria slips from me, causing Lincoln to pull back.

  “That’s not the kind of reaction I was expecting,” he says with a sexy-as-hell grin.

  “Me either.” I laugh nervously, releasing him to dab at the corners of my eyes. “You look great, Linc. How was your flight?”

  He shrugs one shoulder. “It was short…hardly got in the air before we got ready to land. I’m a little late because there was a mix-up with my bag.”

  “I half expected you to be in uniform.”

  “Nah, that makes us too easy of a target for the bad guys.” His unreadable gaze lingers on me a beat longer than I feel comfortable with. My heartbeat thuds unevenly against the hollow of my neck when his tongue appears to wet his lips. That tongue once showed me the real meaning of pleasure. It had the power to both lift me up and destroy me all at once.

  Finally he looks away to glance around the busy shop, rubbing at one of his biceps like he has a sudden chill. “How long has this place been open?”

  My throat thickens when it occurs to me how much he’s missed out on—how much the neighborhood has changed, and the friends we went to school with have moved away. “A few years.”

  His big brown eyes flicker back to me. There was a time I’d do anything to feel the warmth of his gaze, because those were the rare occasions in which I knew I was loved unconditionally by someone—anyone—since my mom was too stoned to care about anything more than her next fix. Now he looks at me with curiosity, like he’s trying to figure out how much I’ve changed.

  “You seem…different,” he tells me in a tone heavy with regret.

  I want to throw myself back into his arms and assure him that I’m still the same girl who snuck into his room and watched scary movies under the covers where the rest of the world didn’t exist. I’m still the same Quinn he took care of after my first Crestridge Homecoming, and comforted after my world fell apart the night of senior prom. I’m still the same as my eighteen-year-old version who promised to love him forever before he unceremoniously changed his mind.

  Holding my head high, I smile. “Can I get you something? Their cappuccinos are pretty legendary.”

  His thick Adam’s apple bobs as he looks away again, scratching the back of his head. “Is High Top’s still open? I’ve only been back a few days and could really go for a good ol’ American craft beer.”

  “Lincoln. It’s two in the afternoon.”

  His eyebrows lift playfully. “So? It’s Friday. And I’m still coming off of Middle Eastern time. Don’t you drink anymore?”

  The memory of the last time we got drunk together sends a deep ache spiraling though my chest. We ditched a friend’s pre-graduation party early and went back to his parents’ guest house where we made love and held each other until the sun came up, whispering plans for our future between lingering kisses.

  Even if neither of us were to mention the past, there’s no chance we won’t revisit it with everything we say or do. The best years of my life were spent with a younger version of this gorgeous man. Every damn day since he left, something reminds me of what we had. What he threw away.

  “What are you afraid of?” he asks with a teasing grin. “Breaking curfew?”

  It’s another nod to hap
pier days, and the way his eyes sparkle with mischief, he knows it. He was always quick to throw me a challenge, push me beyond my comfort zone because I didn’t fit in with the other kids. Yet he was the timid one who had to be coaxed into walking on the wild side, like the time we set off fireworks outside Sadie Emory’s house, and the night all his friends decided to skinny dip in his parents’ pool.

  I’m terrified this is how it will begin, that every memory will unravel a feeling of what it was like to be his girl until I’m a raw bundle of exposed nerves and begging him to take me back.

  Glancing down at my phone, I let out an indecisive sigh. I’d picked the popular coffee shop knowing it was safe. It’s always packed with customers on the weekends. High Top's is lucky to have a dozen patrons on their busiest nights, and the dark bar is filled with quiet corners that allow far too much privacy. Caffeine is relatively harmless. Alcohol leads to confessions of oppressed feelings.

  But Kellen won’t be back from his business trip until Monday night, and there’s virtually no chance any of our friends—old or new—would be hanging out at High Top's or anywhere in this part of the city. Plus I could really use a drink to take the edge off. At least maybe my hands would stop trembling.

  “Fine, let’s go,” I decide, throwing him a playful eye-roll. “I’m parked out back.”

  Swiping my purse from the back of the stool, I wait for him to throw his bag over his shoulder before following him to the exit. I stop to toss my cup in the trash on the way out and find him waiting, door held open. After I’ve stepped onto the sidewalk, he presses his fingertips against the small of my back and holds his other arm out to shield me from a wild group of young kids passing on skateboards.