by Anna Blakely
She rolled her lips inward, visibly unhappy with that bit of news. “I appreciate the concern, but like I said, I can take care of myself. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a house I need to get ready to sell.”
Brynnon took a step toward the room’s entrance, but Grant didn’t budge. He just stood there, waiting for her to realize she wasn’t getting her way. Not surprising, the woman didn’t give up that easily.
“I apologize again for having wasted your time, but I will talk with my father and make sure you are paid for the entire day. Now, if there’s nothing else, I really do need to get back to work.”
Brynnon held her hand out, indicating he should leave the way he came.
One corner of his lip twitched. “I’m not leaving.”
Her pretty brows rose. “Uh, yes. You are.”
Grant’s only response was to cross his arms and raise a brow. With her hands on her jean-clad hips, the senator’s daughter stood her ground.
“I said I don’t need you here.”
Grant took a slight step forward. “And I said, I’m not leaving. Your dad hired me to do a job, Princess. That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Anger flashed in her eyes. The red in her cheeks darkened. “Did you seriously just call me Princess?”
When he didn’t bother answering the rhetorical question, she became even more upset.
“My father may have hired you, Mr. Hill. But I just fired you.”
He shook his head. “Can’t.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t?” She chuckled humorlessly. “Last I checked this was a free country, and I’m a grown-ass woman. If I don’t want a bodyguard, I don’t have to have one.”
The childish statement made her wince. She tried like hell to hide it, but was half a second too late
Knowing they’d just keep going in circles if he continued the pointless argument, Grant reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his phone.
Looking appalled, Brynnon asked, “What are you doing?”
“Calling your father.”
Remaining silent, Grant held the phone to his ear and waited as it rang.
“Good. While you two are chatting, you can tell him thanks but no thanks.”
Ignoring the comment, he kept his eyes on hers as he waited for the senator to answer. After what felt like an eternity, the other man answered the call.
“Cantrell.”
“It’s me.”
Her father sighed. “Let me guess. She’s balking at my order for protection and says she can take care of herself.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hand her the phone.”
Grant held it out for Brynnon, who yanked it from his hand.
“Will you please tell your watchdog his services are not needed?” There was a pause before her voice rose an octave. “Protection from what? You’re the one who got the threat not me. If anything, he should be guarding you.” Another pause. “Fine. Then he can come give the other guy back up or something.”
The angrier she got, the more prominent the red in her cheeks became. Grant refused to admit how adorable it was.
“But, Dad,” she paused. “If you’d just listen...” Another pause. Brynnon rolled her dazzling eyes. “That’s not fair, and you know it. We’ve talked about this, Dad. You can’t use Mom as an excuse every time you want to...”
There was one final pause before Brynnon’s shoulders fell in defeat. “Fine,” she huffed. “But he’d better not get in my way. I have an open house here tomorrow, and I want to get my place finished so I can list the condo.”
Grant watched as Brynnon turned away from him. This time when she spoke, her voice turned lower. Softer.
“I know, and I appreciate that you’re worried about me.” There were a few seconds of silence before he heard her say, “I love you, too, Daddy. Bye.”
After ending the call, Brynnon drew in a deep breath, exhaling slowly before turning back around to face him. “Here,” she offered him back his phone.
Their fingers brushed lightly as he reached for it. Ignoring that same damn zing from before, he shoved it into his pocket and waited for her to speak.
“Okay.” She relented, as if the choice had ever really been hers. “You can stay. But I meant what I said to Dad. I have to get this place ready for the potential buyers who will be here tomorrow. If I can’t get this damn sink fixed, I’m screwed.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“There’s a leak, and I can’t get the threads to seal enough to stop it.”
He looked behind her. “Give me the wrench.”
She scowled at his gruff order, but then her eyes fell over his chest and biceps. Deciding he may actually be able to do what needed to be done, Brynnon grabbed the tool from the countertop behind her and held it out to him.
“Knock yourself out.”
****
Chapter 2
“Thanks for your help.”
Brynnon leaned back against the kitchen counter and took a drink from her water bottle.
Grant gave her a single nod. “No problem.”
Lordy. The man’s voice was every bit as sexy as she remembered. Maybe more so. Too bad he was so damn bossy.
Admit it. Even that turns you on.
Brynnon shook the ridiculous thoughts away. After all, they’d only met once...months ago. Which made her reaction to the infuriating man that much more confusing.
He’d been working extra security at one of her father’s benefit balls, and for reasons beyond her understanding, her dad had insisted they be introduced.
She and Grant had shaken hands and shared polite introductions. That was it. The entire interaction lasting a couple minutes, at best.
For some reason, however, Brynnon hadn’t been able to get the tall, dark, and broody security expert out of her mind.
Never before had a single handshake consumed her thoughts like the one with this man. Yet here she was, three months later, and she still found herself thinking about the way he’d looked at her that night.
“Here.”
Grant handed her back the wrench. Their fingers touched again, making her pulse skyrocket. Brynnon’s gaze rose to meet his and suddenly, it was as if everything around them had vanished, leaving them inside a bubble.
A very large, very sexually charged bubble.
“We need to go over how this is going to work.” He stared down at her. “I’ll need the names of contractors you use, as well as anyone who works with you on a regular basis. You also need to put together a detailed schedule for the next couple of weeks.”
Aaaaand....there it went. Like a giant needle, his words punctured the bubble she’d been enjoying more than she should, deflating it in an instant.
Much to her dismay, Brynnon had spent many a night since fantasizing about the expressionless man. Apparently, she’d over-romanticized him. By a whole hell of a lot.
This man was here because he was being paid to do a job. Not because he wanted to be.
God, I need to get a life.
“Why do you need all that if my dad was the one who received the threats?”
“Precaution. Someone wants to get to him, they could use you to do it.”
Brynnon set the wrench back into her tool bag by her feet. “I don’t mean to sound insensitive or like I don’t care, but you realize this is probably nothing, right?”
“I do.” He tipped his head.
“Oh.” His answer surprised her. “Well, good. Because most threats politicians receive are nothing to worry about. Just a bunch of keyboard warriors who don’t like this law or that. They send my dad and other members of Congress threats thinking they’ll get it changed. Honestly, it’s scary how ridiculous some people are these days.”
“Agreed. However, on the off chance there is some validity to these threats, I still need to do the job I’ve been hired to do to the best of my ability. That means you do what I say when I say. No arguments.”
Brynnon watched as he walked to the ki
tchen door leading to the back yard and flipped the deadbolt before turning back to her.
“Starting with keeping all your doors locked while you’re in the house.”
Excuse me? Brynnon’s jaw nearly dropped from his arrogance. He might appear to be a sexy, scruff-covered god of a man, but she was beginning to think he was nothing more than a condescending ass.
Brynnon crossed her arms and put on the sweetest smile she could muster. “Well, that’s going to be kind of hard to do during tomorrow’s open house. The name kind of implies the doors will be, you know...open.”
His rolled lips and deep breath gave away his irritation, bringing her a sense of childish satisfaction.
“I think you should postpone it until after this situation has been resolved.”
Brynnon laughed at that. “Have you ever bought a house, Mr. Hill?” His silence answered for him. “No? Well, let me enlighten you. The longer this house is in my name, the more interest it accrues. That means I lose money. I’m already a week and a half behind schedule due to unexpected issues that kept popping up. I can’t afford to wait.”
Grant ran a large hand across his chiseled jaw. “There’s no way I can control who comes in and out of here in a situation like that.”
“No,” she agreed. “There isn’t. However, given the trust my father has put in you in the past, I have full faith you’ll be able to handle it just fine.”
A mouth she’d described in her mind as kissable tightened, making Brynnon felt a little bad. She knew he was just trying to do his job, but damn it. She had a job to do, too.
“Okay, look.” She dropped the attitude a smidge. “How about a compromise? I’ll do what you say if my safety truly becomes a concern. Otherwise, I have a business to run. I hope you can respect that.”
“My job is to protect you, Princess. Can’t do that if I’m busy worrying about stepping on your toes. I hope you can respect that.”
Don’t slug him. Don’t slug him.
Brynnon narrowed her eyes, no longer feeling bad. “That’s another thing. Quit calling me Princess. It’s demeaning, and I don’t like it.”
Not wanting to give the big jerk a chance to get the last word in, she went about putting the rest of her tools away and wiping down the kitchen counters. After that, she swept the floor and went back through each room to make sure everything was set up exactly as she wanted.
When the real delivery boy showed up during her walk-through, Brynnon started for the door. Blocking her, Grant held up a hand to stop her.
“From now on, I answer the door.”
Biting her tongue, she let him. The young man’s eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets when he laid eyes on the big man opening the door.
Putting the poor kid out of his misery, Brynnon quickly grabbed the check from the kitchen and paid him.
After putting the food in the refrigerator, she did one final walk-through. Satisfied with the way the house looked, she was about to tell Grant tomorrow’s schedule when her stomach growled.
“Hungry?”
Now that you mention it...
“I’m starved.”
His dark brows turned inward. “When was the last time you ate?”
Brynnon thought for a moment. “I don’t know. I’ve been so busy today I guess I forgot to eat.” For reasons she didn’t understand, this angered him.
“You shouldn’t do that.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose, I assure you. I told you I got busy.”
He let out a frustrated sigh. “Do you have food at home, or do you need to stop and pick something up?”
What’s with this guy? None of her previous bodyguards had ever given a shit whether she ate or not. But with him, it was like having a second father around.
Growing up, she and her brother, Billy, had both endured bodyguards. First, when her father became a multimillionaire almost overnight, thanks to his construction company’s military contracts. Later, when he ran for Congress, he insisted they have them during the weeks leading up to the election, as well as after.
Each time, Brynnon felt the same. She hated it.
“I can just hit a drive-thru on the way home.”
The beast of a man sounded almost horrified at the thought. “Fast food?”
“I take it you prefer something else?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” She let the word hang there. “What do you suggest?”
“There’s a restaurant not far from here. They have steak.”
Brynnon looked down at herself. Her jeans were dirty and ripped, her flannel faded, and the t-shirt beneath it was stained. She didn’t need a mirror to know her hair was also a total wreck.
“Um, I’m not really dressed for that sort of thing.”
“It isn’t fancy. You’re fine.”
Her schedule was so hectic, she usually just grabbed something quick while driving to the hardware store and back. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten a decent meal and had to admit the idea was more than a little appealing.
“Okay,” she told him. “If you say so.”
“I do. Let’s go.” Grant started toward the front door. “While we eat, you can give me that information I asked you about.”
“Fine. But I’m driving.”
“We both are.” He looked over his shoulder. “You’re following me.”
Already sick of his bossy ass, Brynnon fought the urge to stick out her tongue. How she ever thought he was potential dating material was beyond her.
This is what you get for putting a guy you’ve talked to for all of thirty seconds on a sexual pedestal.
Knowing the tiny voice was right, she did as she was told and followed him to the restaurant. Less than forty-five minutes later, she was enjoying the best meal she’d had in a very long time.
Brynnon took another bite of her grilled club sandwich, the crispy bacon and freshly sliced tomato putting the heavenly concoction over the top.
“Okay, you were right.” She covered her full mouth with her hand. “This is so much better than fast-food.”
Grant swallowed a bite of his enormous T-bone. “Told you.”
While he was focused on his food, Brynnon took a moment to study the formidable man.
His brown hair was almost military-short in the back and on the sides with slightly longer layers on top. A dusting of dark scruff covered his square jaw and strong chin and his perfect lips had two settings: flat or pursed.
Brynnon glanced down at the edge of what she assumed was a full-sleeve tattoo peeking out from beneath his rolled cuff. Her heart thumped a little harder, and muscles she hadn’t used in far too long clenched, wishing she could see more of his ink.
I want to see all of it.
Pretending she hadn’t just thought that, she returned her focus to his face. More specifically, to the set of gray-blue eyes that seemed to penetrate her soul.
There was something in them she hadn’t noticed the first time they met. She couldn’t exactly name it, but whatever it was made her heart sad.
As they continued eating, Brynnon shared with him what she could about the people she hired to help with her business, promising to write down their names and contact information when she got home.
“What about your social life?”
Brynnon halted her sandwich mid-bite. “What about it?”
“Who’s in your circle?”
She smirked. “My circle?”
His eyes gave a slight roll. “Friends. Boyfriends. Who do you hang out with?”
“Oh.” She sat her sandwich back down. “Well, seeing as how I’m always working, I don’t really have a circle. No boyfriend, and really the only close friend I have is Angie. She’s kind of my unofficial assistant. Helps me manage the business email and stage the houses. And, when she’s able, she helps me host the open houses. She won’t be there tomorrow, though. Her husband has the weekend off, so they’re taking their two boys on a weekend getaway.”
“I’ll need Angie�
�s information, too, then.”
Brynnon snorted. “Okay.”
Brow arched, he asked, “Is that going to be a problem?”
“No,” she chuckled. “It’s just that...it’s Angie. She’s a total soccer mom. A cool-as-hell soccer mom, but still. We’ve been friends for years, and she’s like a second daughter to my dad. I can promise you, Angie didn’t send him any threats.”
“Still need to rule her out.”
“Fine.” Brynnon gave him a tight smile. “I’ll include her information.”
Once that was settled, they finished the rest of their food in relative silence. After taking care of the check—she’d insisted on paying for her own meal—they walked to their cars parked by the sidewalk out front.
A cool breeze hit, and Brynnon wrapped her opened flannel shirt around herself a little tighter. Brushing some wind-blown hair from her eyes, she spoke as they approached his truck.
“I’m assuming you’ll follow me home, make sure it’s safe, and then meet me at the flip house tomorrow morning?”
Grant looked back at her as if she’d missed something big, his answer shocking to say the least. “I’m staying with you.”
She nearly choked on her own breath. “Excuse me?”
“Standard protocol.”
When the wind blew another chunk of hair into her face, Brynnon slapped it away. “Uh, not for me, it isn’t.”
“Too bad.” He shrugged one of his big shoulders. “This is how I work.”
Through clenched teeth she informed him, “Well, it isn’t the way I work. Except for when I was still in high school, no other bodyguard assigned to me has slept inside my house.”
“Just means they were shitty at their jobs.”
Grant’s stare was unwavering, and he spoke with a confidence she found both attractive and frustrating.
“Well, seeing as how the condo is mine”—she dug her keys from her purse— “I’m pretty sure I get the final say about who stays in it and who doesn’t.”
Seemingly aloof, Grant pulled his own keys from his pocket and pressed the fob to unlock his truck. “Sorry, sweetheart, but my job is to be your bodyguard.” His eyes locked with hers. “The name kind of implies that your body is, you know...guarded.”