Protect Me - A Steamy Bodyguard Romance (You Can't Resist a Bad Boy Book 5)

by Layla Valentine

  And now, the perfect opportunity to find out has fallen into my lap.

  “No strings attached,” I promise. “We’ll do it until you’re pregnant. Although I probably won’t need more than one time.” I grin.

  She cocks her head. “And why is that?”

  “In the army, they called me One-Shot Sean.”

  Her eyes bug out of her face. “Excuse me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Because you…” Her eyes drift down my torso, making heat ripple across my skin.

  “No. I was a good shot behind the barrel.”

  “Oh.” She blushes and nails her gaze to the floor.

  I was more than a ‘good shot’. I was one of the best snipers out there. But that’s not a lighthearted subject. My time in the service, though it only ended a few weeks ago, is over. I’ve buried it and committed to moving on.

  “How about this?” I drop her hand and step back, giving her some space to show her this is still her choice. I’m not pressuring her at all. “We make a bet.”

  Violet’s eyebrows slowly rise. “Okay. I’m listening.”

  “If I get you pregnant in one shot, you owe me a painting of my choice.”

  She snorts.

  “You really think you’re that good? How do you know your sperm count is up to par? Or that I’m even that fertile? Even if you’re good at what you do, it could be my most infertile time of the month.”

  “I have a feeling that together, you and I can’t help but be successful.”

  Violet’s lips part and her breathing picks up. God, those lips…My own burn with the need to take them, but I can’t. Such a ballsy move taken too soon could ruin everything.

  “I…” She huffs. “This is a lot to think about all of a sudden. Sean, I decided to go with a sperm bank precisely because I don’t want to deal with a guy. I want to raise my kid on my own, without worrying about someone else being in the picture.”

  “You can do that.” I nod. “Again, I’ll just be the donor.”

  She bites her lip, and I get distracted with how sexy she looks. God, the things I’m going to do with her soon…

  There’s a knock on the door.

  “Violet?” a female voice calls. “It’s Kaila. Someone is asking about Spencer’s wood carvings.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” Violet calls over her shoulder.

  We stay frozen until the footsteps recede.

  “Here.” I pull my phone out of my pocket. “I got a new phone; what’s your number?”

  She gives it to me, and I shoot her a text right away, adding an emoji of a red-haired baby for good measure.

  “Think about it, okay?”

  “What do you get out of this?”

  “I told you.”

  She’s clearly not convinced. “You just want to make up for lost time?”

  “And sleep with you once or twice,” I say with a wink.

  She silently gasps, and her chest heaves with quick breaths. Though it’s crazy painful, I know this is the height of the conversation, and I need to end it while we’re riding high. It’s the only way to make sure she leaves wanting more.

  Reaching around Violet, I open the door. She stays where she is while it swings open.

  “Call me tomorrow,” I tell her.

  I walk past her, my eyes latched on hers, so close our shoulders brush.

  With zings of electricity running through me, I leave the gallery and get on my bike. Once astride it, though, I pause, and just look down at the helmet in my hands.

  Everything I told Violet was true. I want the chance to sleep with her, and the chance to make up for lost time. But there’s more, too.

  The thought of being married still fills me with horror, but having a kid that I might be able to see part-time? Now that’s something I can get down with. Even if it would be just stopping by on the weekends. I could take him or her to the beach and teach them how to surf, and then, when they got older, I could buy them their first motorcycle.

  Scratch that. My mom is right. Bikes are too dangerous. I’m fine with risking my own neck on one daily, but I wouldn’t let my kid do that.

  My kid.

  I know Violet said she doesn’t want a man involved, but maybe she would change her mind with me. I’m not looking to split parenting time fifty-fifty. Just being around some would be nice. And—though she probably won’t admit this—if she’s going to have a baby, she’ll need as much help as she can get.

  Like I told her, it’s the perfect situation. I just need to get her to see that.

  Chapter 6

  Violet

  Kaila looks like a deer caught in headlights. Her eyes are unblinking, the sugar pouring from the dispenser into her coffee in one long, endless stream.

  “You want diabetes, hon?” I nod at her hand.

  “Oh!” She puts the restaurant-style dispenser down on the table.

  We’re sitting on my back patio, enjoying the morning. Or, trying to. After barely any sleep the night before, I feel like a zombie.

  “What do you think?” I ask. “Should I do it?”

  “Um, maybe?” she tentatively peeps, answering my question with another question, much like I expected her to.

  Kaila takes a sip of her coffee and makes a face, then picks up her spoon and starts extracting heaps of soggy sugar. I watch her dump them on the saucer, a frown pulling on my lips.

  “The problem with having him do it is that I’m still going to have to see him around. And, then, when my kid gets older and asks who their dad is, I’ll say ‘a donor.’ But what if they see Sean? It’s going to feel like a lie.”

  “I dunno.” Kaila taps her spoon against her chin. “Honolulu is big enough. If you tell Sean you don’t ever want to see him, that can happen. Right?”

  “Right,” I slowly say, not sure whether I believe it or not. “Our moms are friends, though. There’s that.”

  “It sounds like he…you know…just wants to have sex with you.” She drops her voice at the end, like we’re in public and not in my private backyard.

  Sweet little Kaila. Bless her heart. The girl is easily my closest friend. Despite the fact that she’s only a couple years younger than me, I’m willing to bet she could count the number of times she’s had sex on her fingers and toes. For both of us, work comes first. It’s art and then everything else. She’s also incredibly shy—something I’m constantly encouraging her to push past.

  “He is cute,” she says, smiling.

  “Yeah.”

  I pull the blanket I brought out here tighter around my shoulders. It’s not cold at all, but I need some comfort right now.

  “So his mom is friends with your mom?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Kaila makes a face.

  “So I would see him sometimes,” I explain. “There’s no way around it.”

  “Not necessarily. You can avoid going to things they’re all going to be at. It’s your choice. You can always say no.”

  For someone who is so timid, Kaila also gives some really good advice.

  “There’s no one else who can do it,” I state, running my finger around the rim of my coffee mug. “That I want to do it, I mean.”

  “Is it weird? Thinking about having sex just to make a baby?”

  I shrug.

  “That’s the way it’s been for a lot of women throughout history. Romance was for the elite. Most women had to marry men they didn’t like, just so they could be taken care of. And then they popped out kids because that’s what was expected of them. I’m kind of lucky. At least I’m attracted to Sean.”

  Even as I’m saying the words, I feel sad. It’s the twenty-first century. I’m a business-owning woman in an industrialized country. Shouldn’t I have it all? Love included?

  I shake the thought away. I’ve already been down that road. No more feeling sorry for myself. This is the path I’ve chosen, and I’m staying on it.

  “He’s smart.” I tick that off on a finger. “He’s attractive.”
Another tick. “What more do I need for a sperm donor?”

  Kaila shrugs.

  “I’m going to do it,” I declare. “He already said it will be no strings attached. Just sex.”

  “Okay.” She doesn’t look that certain, though.

  “What?”

  “There’s just… What if you fall for him?”

  “That’s not going to happen,” I quickly answer.

  “Are you sure? He seems really—”

  “He’s probably been in at least five different beds since he got home. I’m not going to let myself fall in love with a guy like that.”

  “Okay.” She nods. “Speaking of which, you should both get tested first.”

  “Good thinking.”

  Picking up my phone, I pull up the text Sean sent me and type back a response, asking him to meet me at a clinic downtown later this afternoon. As I set the phone back down, my fingers shake. Am I doing the right thing?

  I’m excited. Nervous. Afraid. Yet there’s also another emotion in there, one that’s telling me this is good. I’m doing the right thing.

  * * *

  Later, I wait outside the clinic for Sean. I’ve already called and asked if they could see us last minute. Luckily, they were able to fit us in. I’m already pretty sure I’m clean, as I was tested just a few months ago. But asking Sean to get tested and not doing it myself just wouldn’t be right.

  As I wait, I focus on a monkey tree across the street, mentally tracing lines along its branches. It’s an act that calms me, though I don’t know why.

  A familiar form crosses the street, and my whole body tenses up as Sean heads my way.

  “Hey.”

  His voice has an unexpected effect, sending a wave of relaxation through me.

  “Hi,” I reply. “Thank you for doing this.”

  “It’s a good idea.” He nods. “So, I guess this means you’re taking me up on my offer.”

  “Let’s just get tested first. Then we’ll talk.”

  He gestures for me to go first, and I lead the way into the clinic. Sean fills out his paperwork first and as I’m taking my own up to the front desk, the receptionist gives me a smile.

  “It’s so nice to see you both in here,” she says. “Not enough young couples take their health seriously.”

  My jaw tightens. “Yeah.”

  I can’t get my ass back in my seat quick enough.

  Sean clears his throat. “About the…thing…”

  “Can we please just wait?”

  He nods and picks up a cooking magazine—not something I would expect him to read. My face is on fire from the receptionist calling us a couple, and I can’t stop myself from wondering what it would be like for that to be true. Sean would come to all doctor’s appointments with me. He’d be there when I went into labor, when I took the baby home…

  The thoughts of a happy domestic life are a spiral I quickly yank myself out of. There’s no Sean and I. This whole thing is pragmatic, nothing more.

  The door to the waiting room opens almost right away, and we’re called in. After that, everything happens fast. Blood is drawn, questions are answered. It’s the fastest I’ve ever been in and out of a doctor’s office.

  After what seems to be only a few minutes, Sean and I are out and walking down the darkening street. My hand curls around my phone. The clinic will call once they have the results in, and I’m going to be checking my phone every two minutes until that happens.

  “Are you hungry?” Sean asks.

  We’ve crossed the street and entered a block lined with mom-and-pop eateries.

  “Not really,” I mumble.

  The only thing I’ve had all day is a bagel and a cup of coffee, but my appetite is nowhere to be found.

  “Want a drink?”

  “God, yes.”

  Sean’s teeth dazzle as he smiles, lighting a spark in my chest. I’d almost forgotten what that grin did to me, how it made me feel like the world was turning upside down, but it didn’t even matter, because Sean was right next to me. No matter what came our way, I had him to hold onto.

  That was then, I remind myself. This is now—and I need a stiff drink.

  We settle into a table by the window, where I order a martini and Sean a beer. With nothing to do but just wait for both drinks and a phone call, we stare at each other across the table.

  “So,” I say.

  “So.” He nods.

  I nervously flex my hands.

  “How was the rest of the showcase?” Sean asks.

  “Good, but we don’t need to talk about that.”

  “Okay. Let’s not.”

  He rubs his palms against the tops of his thighs, making his snug T-shirt stretch even tighter. The bicep tattoo of a sea creature draws my eye. He had a couple tats before he entered the military, but he’s really inked up since then. The look is a good one on him.

  “I’ve thought some about what you said.”

  I carefully enunciate each word, the act being one of those things that just makes me feel better.

  Sean nods, eyes dancing.

  Before I can say anything else, the waitress arrives with our drinks.

  “I’ll have the burger,” Sean tells her, after glancing at the menu for all of two seconds. “Violet?”

  “Nothing for me. Thanks.”

  I take a hearty sip of my martini. How can he think of food right now?

  With the interruption gone, Sean laces his hands on the table and leans into them. There go those biceps again, popping out all over the place. The muscles between my legs tighten, and I swallow hard.

  “This is what you really want to do?”

  “Yes,” he says right away.

  “And you have no problem not being involved at all?”

  He opens his mouth to answer, but there’s hesitation there. Something flashes in his eyes. Sadness? Want?

  “Sean. If this isn’t right for you, tell me.”

  In a heartbeat, his face changes, green eyes taking on a look so intense it could cut diamonds.

  “This is what’s right for me.”

  Now, it’s my turn to hesitate. Inhaling deeply, I look into my drink. What’s going on inside his head? Is it possible he wants to be a part of the baby’s life? What would that look like?

  A vision of him rocking our baby hits me. For a second, hope flares in my heart. One thought later, and it’s gone.

  Because that’s not Sean. Even back in high school, he always said he would never settle down. So though he might become all gung-ho about being a dad at first, there’s a good chance that will change.

  It did for my own father. Even after being around for over a decade, he suddenly decided parenthood wasn’t for him. So he up and left with no warning.

  No kid deserves a hot-and-cold parent. Over my dead body am I going to put my little boy or girl through something like that.

  Suddenly, my phone rings, making me jump. The number is unrecognizable, but it’s local. I quickly catch Sean’s eye before answering.

  “Hello?” I ask.

  I do my best to listen to the person on the other end of the line, though I can’t focus through my anxiousness. A minute later, I have all the information needed.

  As I hang up, I find my hands are trembling.

  “Was that the clinic?” Sean asks.

  I nod, tongue thick.

  “And?”

  “We’re both clean.”

  A devilish grin spreads across his face. “Well then, what are we waiting for?”

  Chapter 7

  Violet

  Sean doesn’t even wait for his food. After dropping some cash on the table, he leads the way out of the restaurant. My heart has climbed all the way up my throat, and I can’t even think straight.

  “Follow me to my place?” he asks in the parking lot.

  His hands are in his pockets, and he looks so chill and carefree. Is it a facade? Is he really freaking out on the inside, just like me?

  No, I realize. This is a h
ookup. It’s probably normal for Sean. Well, barring the baby part. Other than that, this whole day could very well be standard practice.

  “Yeah,” I answer. “I’ll follow you there.”

  As I climb into my car and follow Sean’s motorcycle onto the road, I’m dimly aware of the fact that I should probably continue to question this choice. It’s a giant one—something I can’t undo.

  But I’m done questioning. What I’m doing today is for me, no one else.

  And that feels better than anything else has in a long time.

  I want this. Not just the baby, but the Sean part as well. Maybe getting a taste of him will cut down on my desire.

  Not seeing him afterward will help as well. Though when it comes to that, there are still details to be ironed out. Keeping as much space as possible between us is probably the best idea.

  Sean’s building is new, a towering monolith in the middle of downtown. Climbing out from the car, I squint my eyes and gaze up at it.

  “Let’s take the elevator.” Sean’s voice makes me jump. Somehow, he’d come right up behind me without my noticing.

  “Okay,” I answer, afraid he can hear the shaking in my voice.

  Inside the building, everything is just as fresh. The paint glows and there are no nicks or marks on the walls.

  “My roommate won’t be home for a few hours,” Sean explains, unlocking his door. “Hopefully that’ll give us enough time.”

  I catch his eye, noting the grin there. It’s just what I need. My anxiety dissipates, and I laugh.

  “Awfully confident, aren’t you?”

  He shrugs. “I have good self-esteem.”

  His response makes me giggle again, and for a second, I’m taken back to ten years ago. It’s the old Sean and me, just hanging out and shooting the breeze. This isn’t a stranger. Despite all the years that have gone by, this is someone I know and trust. Not with my heart, but with other things.

  Remembering that makes the next breath easier to take in.

  The living room is extremely minimal, with a long couch and some exercise equipment in it. Sean goes right past it and to one of the doors on the far end.