by Anna Blakely
Running a hand over his scruff-covered jaw, he glanced away before bringing his eyes back to hers. “Too many reasons. And like it or not, this is a job. Your father hired me to protect you. Not sleep with you.”
Brynnon’s most intimate muscles clenched. Just hearing him talk about it left her wanting him even more. Feeling bold, she lifted her chin and asked, “Why can’t you do both?”
Grant’s chest swelled, and his nostrils flared, their topic of conversation affecting him just as strongly. Even so, he came back with, “Having sex with a client isn’t just unprofessional, it’s against policy.”
“Policy?”
“It’s put in place for a reason.” Grant swallowed again. “Look, Bryn. We come from two different worlds. In yours, you screw something up on the job, it may take longer for you to sell a house. I fuck up, someone dies.”
“Except I’m not in any danger. We’re on day three, and there’s been nothing. How long are you going to continue to watch me before you admit to my father—and yourself—that this assignment is completely unnecessary?”
“I will watch over you until my boss tells me otherwise.”
Hoping he’d take the bait, Brynnon decided to throw him a line. Licking her lips, she asked, “And after that?”
Looking conflicted, he shook his head. “I already told you. I’m not the—”
“Man for me. Yeah, I got that. It’s too bad, really.” She shrugged. “I think we could’ve been great together.”
Refusing to come off as needy—any more than she probably already had—Brynnon turned and started back down the hall. “I’m going to tell Dad we’re leaving.”
She made it a few steps before facing him again. “Oh, and Grant?”
Still standing where she’d left him, the frustratingly sexy man gave her a low, “Yeah?”
“Those neat little lines you’ve drawn for yourself are great and all. But if you don’t cross one every once in a while, what’s the point?”
His brow creased. “The point of what?”
She smiled sadly. “Life.”
With that, Brynnon went back into the dining room to tell her father goodbye. She hoped, with time, Grant would see she was right.
He’d admitted he wanted her, which was a massive step in the right direction. Now, she just had to figure out a way to get him to put actions to words.
****
Chapter 7
Grant took his eyes from the road just long enough to give Brynnon a quick, sideways glance. To say things had been awkward between them since their hallway confessions would be a major fucking understatement.
He was just thankful Senator Cantrell and that kiss-ass Downing hadn’t decided to come looking for them. Or worse, Coop. Explaining away the shit that had poured from his mouth would’ve been damn near impossible.
Grant still couldn’t believe he’d admitted to wanting to sleep with her. Never in his life had he had less control than he did around that woman. Every time she got near, he found himself wanting to share shit with her. What the fuck was that all about anyway?
There’d only ever been one person he truly felt he could bare his soul to. And she’d been his guardian angel for more than sixteen years now.
Hell, Grant hadn’t even given all of himself to Baylee, and he’d come damn close to asking her to marry him. Thank fuck for small favors.
A sharp pain radiated through his chest, the memory of what she’d done still as fresh as the day it had happened. He must not have done a good job of hiding it, because Brynnon’s voice sounded worried when she spoke to him.
“You okay?”
Having already revealed too much, Grant kept his mouth shut and tipped his head.
Assuming his foul expression had something to do with her, Brynnon apologized again for her brother. “I’m sorry Billy acted like such a jerk.”
Grant kept his eyes on the road. “Can’t control what your family does.”
“I guess not.” She sighed. “You talking from experience?”
She was fishing, but this time he damn sure wasn’t gonna bite. “Everyone has had family issues at one point or another.”
“A vague, non-answer,” Brynnon teased. “I think you’ve been hanging around politicians too long.”
Wanting to talk about anything other than his family, Grant spun the conversation back to hers. “So, what’s your brother’s story?”
Thanks to the file he had on Brynnon, he already knew the basics but was interested to see what she’d share.
A laugh escaped from her lips, the sweet sound one he could listen to endlessly. “Going with the spin. You have been around politicians too much.” She sighed again. “Fine. We won’t talk about you. Let’s see...the cliff-notes version of Billy is, he’s a brilliant man with the potential to do great things.”
“But?”
“But, over time, he’s gotten...lost.”
“Lost?” Grant slid his eyes to her and back again. “He seemed pretty confident to me.”
“I think the word you're looking for is cocky. And that’s what you saw because it’s what Billy wanted you to see.” Brynnon frowned. “It breaks my heart, really. Back when my dad still owned his construction company...” She paused and turned to him. “Wait, did you know about that?”
“Cantrell Construction?” Grant nodded. “Your dad told me about it the last time I worked security for him. He sold it about six years ago, right?”
“A little over five, yeah. Anyway”—she got back on track— “Billy used to work for Dad. Was in charge of the supply orders for the bigger jobs. It was an important position, and he was great at it.”
Grant thought for a moment. “Billy’s a couple of years younger than me, right? So, he would’ve only been, what, twenty-nine when the company was bought out?”
“Yep. He was twenty-four when Dad promoted him to head sales manager.”
Grant blew out a low whistle. “Bet that pissed some people off.”
Brynnon chuckled. “Oh, yeah. There were a handful of employees who resented him for it at first. But, over time, Billy proved himself to be a solid asset to the company.”
“So, what happened?”
“When Dad decided to run for office, he didn’t want his personal business to be viewed as a conflict or a distraction. The way he explained it, too many politicians in the past had been accused of mixing company finances and contacts with their political agendas. Could make things murky. Anyway, a couple of larger companies had been sniffing around for several months, wanting to buy us out, so Dad contacted them when he was ready to sell. The company with the top bid won and my father never looked back.”
“And Billy?”
“He signed on as Dad’s co-chief of staff with Martin. I could never work with the man, but those two seemed to do really well together. At first.”
“What happened?”
Her face fell. “Our mother died. It happened shortly after Dad first took office.”
Grant’s fists tightened over the steering wheel. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. It’s been almost five years now, but it still hurts, you know?”
More than you realize. “How’d she die?”
“Car wreck. Dad had only been a senator for a few weeks. He had a meeting with a bunch of big-wig politicians that day. About forty-five minutes before it was scheduled to start, he realized he’d left some documents at home that he needed. Dad called mom and asked if she could bring them to him. Told her to hurry.”
Brynnon turned to face the passenger window, but Grant still saw the tears in her reflection. The sight hit him with such force he damn near pulled the truck over just so he could pull her into his arms just so he could make them go away.
Discretely swiping one away, she cleared her throat and told him the rest. “Mom knew how crucial Dad’s meeting was, so she rushed to get the papers to him. She took a curve too fast and lost control of the car. The doctors told us she died instantly.”
“Damn, Bry
n. I’m sorry.”
She offered him a watery grin. “Thanks.”
“So, Billy took it hard, huh?”
Brynnon sniffed, blinking away her unshed tears. “Oh, yeah. I wasn’t kidding when I said Billy was a total mama’s boy. Don’t get me wrong, my mother loved me very much. But my family had stereotypical dynamics. Dad and I always had a special bond, as did Billy and Mom. After she died, my brother started going downhill almost immediately.”
“How so?”
“Well, for starters, he quit working for my dad. He’d never admit it, but I’m pretty sure Billy blamed Dad for what happened. He started hanging with the wrong crowd, partying all the time...that sort of thing. Dad tells everyone Billy’s a ‘free spirit’ but the truth is, he’s a mess.”
Brynnon got quiet for a moment before sharing some more. “My dad loves Billy. There’s just a lot of animosity between the two. On both sides. Dad blames himself for Mom’s accident and Billy’s subsequent fall down the rabbit hole, but at the same time, he knows Billy is old enough to make his own choices. Although, my brother’s last stint at rehab seems to have paid off.” Brynnon gave him a small smile. “He just got his year chip three weeks ago.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah. It is.” She paused a moment and then, “You know, everyone thinks having a lot of money makes life easy, but it doesn’t.”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
“I want to. I need you to understand why I was so opposed to having you assigned to watch me. Well, not you, personally. I would’ve balked at anyone.”
She took a deep breath and explained. “I’d just started high school when the construction company took off. When Dad’s net worth grew into the millions, Billy and I had to be escorted to and from school, sporting events, birthday parties...I couldn’t even go to a school dance without having one of Dad’s security team there with us. Do you know how hard it was to dance like that, knowing someone’s watching your every move?”
Before he could answer, Brynnon chuckled. “Of course, you don’t. You were probably the quarterback prom king dancing with the cheerleader queen.”
Memories of a prom night much different than the one she’d just described assaulted him, but Grant somehow dialed back the pain. Averting the comment, he simply uttered, “I don’t dance.”
Shock filled her beautiful eyes. “Like, ever?”
“Nope.”
“Oh.” Brynnon’s face fell a little. “That’s too bad.”
“Why’s that?”
“The charity ball is in two days. I put it on the agenda I gave you.”
Shit. He’d seen it written down but hadn’t had a chance to talk with her about it. The last thing he wanted to do was spend another night in a huge room full of pretentious people throwing around their money like it was water. He’d had his fill of that shit the last time he worked for Cantrell.
Yeah, but that’s how you met her.
Ignoring the memory of that particular night, Grant asked, “How important is it that you be there?”
She chuckled. “Very.”
“Define very.”
“I’m giving a speech and kicking off the dance contest.”
“There’s a contest?”
Brynnon smiled wide. “It’s part of the fundraiser. Every year, couples can sign up, either ahead of time or at the ball. All proceeds from the required entry fee go to the charity we’re supporting. Couples dance simultaneously while the rest of the attendees watch. When the song is over, the couples line up, and the winner is determined by whichever one gets the biggest applause. It’s fun!”
Sounds like the sixth version of Hell.
Brynnon laughed. “Obviously, you don’t feel the same.”
“I don’t dance,” he repeated.
“Yeah. I got that.” She paused before her eyes filled with alarm. “Crap. We’ll still need to get you a tux. It’s a black-tie event, and everyone’s required to wear one, but it’s in three days. We’ve got to get you fitted, and—”
“Relax, Bryn. I may know someone who can help us with that.”
“You do?”
Grant nodded. “Her name’s Charlie. She owns a party planning business.”
Sounding skeptical, she asked, “You’re friends with a party planner?”
“She’s married to one of my teammates.”
“Oh.” Brynnon’s shoulders relaxed. “Okay. We’ll need to call her ASAP.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
The last thing he wanted was to have to put on a monkey suit, but evidently the event was pretty important to her. Which made him curious...
“Do you compete?”
Her smile returned. “For the past three years. My partner and I have never won, but it’s still a lot of fun. I’m bummed I won’t be competing this year.”
He didn’t miss the disappointment in her voice. “Why not?”
“My partner broke his foot last week and had to back out. That reminds me...” she turned to him. “Don’t let me forget to call the dance committee chairperson later and let her know to take Danny and me off the list.”
Doing his best not to sound like a jealous asshole, Grant cleared his throat. “Who, uh...who’s Danny?”
“One of the guys I contract out for all of my landscaping. Apparently, he was working on another project and missed a patio step. Broke his foot in two places.”
What he responded with was, “That’s too bad.” What he was thinking was, thank fuck for clumsy landscapers.
It was an asshole thought to have, especially since the guy’s misfortune meant Brynnon couldn’t compete. It also meant he didn’t have to spend Tuesday night watching another man cozying up to her on the dance floor.
Grant knew his caveman attitude was asinine, given his earlier spiel about not being the right guy for her. What did he expect her to do, anyway? Wait around for him to change his mind?
Yes.
No. He’d never ask her to do that. Brynnon was too full of life. She needed to be able to have one that made her happy. Grant suddenly wished he could be the man to give that to her.
Turning his truck into the hospital’s visitor parking lot, he pulled into an empty spot and turned off the ignition. Grant started to open his door, but Brynnon stopped him with a hand to his arm.
“Wait.” Her fingers squeezed his forearm.
He looked back at her. “Yeah?”
“Before we go inside, I wanted to clear the air.”
Ah, fuck. Grant didn’t think he could take more deep discussions. “About?”
“Us.”
There is no us.
The words were on the tip of his tongue, but Grant kept his trap shut for fear he’d come off as an uncaring asshole. Right or wrong, her opinion of him was starting to matter. A lot.
Instead, he asked, “What about us?”
“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. Between my resistance to having you assigned to me and today, my shitshow of a brother, and the discussion about us...” She sighed. “Anyway, I was just wondering if we could maybe, I don’t know...start over?”
He stared back at the adorable woman, the nervous blush in her cheeks nearly dark enough to match her hair. He’d spent the last few months imagining how it would feel to run his fingers through her long, auburn locks. How soft it would feel inside his fist as he held onto the back of her head while she—
“So?”
From the passenger seat, Brynnon stared back at him expectantly. Those deep forest eyes filled with nervous hope while waiting for his response. And he’d been over here imagining her on her knees, his engorged cock sliding between those luscious lips.
On cue, his dick jumped inside his jeans. Jesus Christ. He really needed to stop doing that shit.
Realizing he still hadn’t said a fucking word, Grant choked out, “Sure.”
“Really?” Her shoulders relaxed. “Good. Because I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do. I still don
’t think it’s necessary, but I promise I’m not trying to make your job any harder than it needs to be. And as for the other...” She licked her lips nervously. “If something happens between us after this bodyguard gig, great. If not, that’s okay, too.”
Swallowing back the urge to reach out and pull her to him, Grant offered a low, “Okay.”
He should probably tell her nothing could ever happen between them. Brynnon wasn’t like the picket fence women he’d met in the past. She also wasn’t the kind to have a one-night-stand and just walk away the next morning, either.
She was different than any other woman he’d ever known. Brynnon was a cabin-in-the-woods kind of gal full of intelligence, confidence, and passion. And though he’d chosen years ago to never allow a woman into his heart, she was getting closer and closer with each moment Grant spent with her.
Oblivious to his thoughts, Brynnon smiled back at him with a sweet, “Okay.”
****
Chapter 8
“Look how happy they are.”
Brynnon turned to Angie—her best friend and self-proclaimed partner in crime—and smiled widely. Family drama momentarily forgotten, her heart felt full from the little bit of happiness they’d brought with them today.
“It’s my favorite day of the year.”
The attractive, brunette woman smiled back. “I’m so glad you asked me to help.”
“I’m so glad you agreed to,” Brynnon teased, nudging her shoulder.
Both women laughed as they continued watching the room full of children open their presents with glee. They’d all been admitted to the cancer wing—some new patients, others all-too-familiar.
“Thanks again for storing and hauling all of the presents. Between my tiny garage and the cabin being so far away, it was so much easier keeping them all at your place.”
“My pleasure.” Angie looked back over the smiling children. On a low whisper, she said, “It’s so sad knowing some of these kiddos will have to spend Christmas here.”
“I know,” Brynnon agreed. “That’s why we do this. For those who won’t get to go home by Christmas. Or ever.”
Angie swiped at the corner of her eye and shook the negative thoughts away. “All right, enough of the sad crap. Tell me about Mr. Muscles over there.”