The Bodyguard and Ms. Jones

by Susan Mallery

  “I’ll ask you to repeat your praise the next time they’re furious at me for something,” she said.

  “Be my guest.”

  He glanced at her. She was smiling. He could see her dimple and the curve of her cheek. She’d thrown a T-shirt over her green leotard. Her long legs were bare. He wanted to run his fingers along her thighs and feel her silky skin.

  It was the wrong thing to think about, so he focused on her hands, the smooth short nails, the delicate wrists. Why had Nelson left her? Cindy had said something about a trophy wife, but why would any man want someone other than her? She was funny, bright, incredibly sexy and a great mother.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked.

  He slid his gaze away and stared out the front window. “I was wondering about lunch.”

  “We have to eat light. The barbecue is tonight, and the food is always amazing.”

  He’d forgotten about that.

  “Get that panicked look off your face,” she told him. “These people are my friends. You’ll be safe.”

  He wondered what it would be like to have friends. He knew people, but he didn’t spend time with many. What would it be like to live in one place, to come home to one woman? What would it be like to belong? He couldn’t imagine. He’d never belonged anywhere in his life.

  * * *

  Cindy handed Mike a covered cake plate, picked up a bowl of potato salad from the hall table, then closed the front door behind them.

  “Aren’t you going to lock it?” he asked.

  “We’re just going across the street,” she told him.

  “You should at least make someone work if he’s going to break into your home.”

  “If you insist.” Shifting the salad bowl to her left hand, she opened the door, pulled the key out of the lock, closed the door, turned the key until the bolt shot home then looked at him. “Happy?”

  “Very.”

  Cindy chuckled. “This is Sugar Land, Mike. Nothing bad happens here. I swear.”

  “You never know.” He checked the cul-de-sac before stepping out onto the street. “I’m glad we’re walking and not driving tonight. This cake looks lethal.”

  She glanced at the container he was holding. “It’s called Black Russian Cake and it’s wonderful. Be sure to take a piece. I got the recipe out of a romance novel I read last year. I think the author lives somewhere in town, but I’m not sure.”

  Despite the fact that it was after six, the air was still steamy. They hadn’t had rain in a couple of days so the humidity had fallen below ninety percent, but the sun beat down unmercifully.

  “I’m glad Beth has trees in her yard,” she said. “It’s going to be hot.”

  Mike grunted.

  She looked at him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” But he was staring at the house in front of him as if he’d never seen it before.

  She could hear voices from other couples already in the backyard. If she didn’t know better, she would swear Mike was nervous. “Everything is going to be fine,” she said.

  He didn’t answer. Before Cindy could question him more, Beth spotted them and came to the gate.

  “You’re here. I’m so pleased.” With one smooth movement, she reached for the cake plate and held out her other hand. “You must be Mike. I’m Beth.”

  Mike shook hands with her. He smiled tightly as she chattered, then shot Cindy a look. She knew he was wondering if she’d told Beth that he’d overheard their conversation last week. She hadn’t. She figured if she did, Beth would never dare show her face again.

  Before she could intervene, Darren came forward and urged Mike into the backyard. The men had congregated around the two grills. There were six men, counting Mike. He was handed a beer and introduced.

  Cindy thought about rescuing Mike but figured he’d been in more dangerous situations than this. After all, she knew these men and they were basically nice guys. She followed Beth into the kitchen.

  The other four women were already there. They poured Cindy a glass of wine and instantly bombarded her with questions.

  “So what’s he really like?” Sally asked.

  “He’s a serious hunk,” Christina said.

  “What do the kids think of him?” Mary asked.

  “Wait, wait.” Beth held up her hands. “I want to go first. I have two questions. One, have you seen him naked yet? And two, how hard are you resisting temptation?”

  Cindy set her container of potato salad on the counter and took the wine Sally offered. She settled on the stool by the bar. “I have nothing to say on the subject.”

  The other five women groaned in unison.

  “You have to tell us something,” Karen said, leaning close and poking her in the ribs. “I mean, we’re all boring married ladies. You’re the only one who gets to have any fun.”

  “Being divorced is a real blast,” Cindy said. She felt her good mood slipping away.

  Beth caught her eye and gave her a sympathetic smile. She quickly put the women to work, rolling paper napkins around plastic utensils. Soon Cindy’s houseguest was forgotten amid the usual chatter and gossip.

  She sipped her wine slowly. She knew these women. She carpooled with them, had been to their houses and had entertained them at her own. But in those few minutes of questions, she realized she was different. She was single and they were married. Funny, she’d never put that together before.

  After the divorce, they’d all stood by her. It wasn’t unusual not to have a husband at a social function. Most of the men in their circle traveled quite a bit, sometimes for months at a time. But she wasn’t one of them anymore and it was unlikely she ever would be again.

  She reached for a package of paper plates and began counting them. Beth came over and leaned against the counter. “Sorry about that,” she said. “I didn’t know they’d all jump on you.”

  “It’s okay. They’re curious.” She glanced at her friend and smiled. “You’re curious.”

  Beth lowered her voice. “Have you seen him naked?”

  “Not yet, but when I do, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  Beth gave her a quick hug, then walked over to the oven. The ribs were being baked first so they would cook quicker on the grill. While the women were talking, Cindy slipped out the back door. She glanced at the men but didn’t see Mike. She walked to the edge of the fence and stared at the sky.

  The sun hadn’t set yet and wouldn’t for another hour or two. Heat rose from the sidewalk. Candles in glass jars had been placed around to ward off bugs, although she and Mike had sprayed themselves with insect repellent before leaving her house. She dropped her gaze to the pecan trees, then lower to children playing in the greenbelt.

  She hadn’t felt this alone since she’d been a teenager.

  What had gone wrong? Why hadn’t her marriage worked out? She grimaced. She knew the answer to the last question. Nelson was a jerk. Unfortunately, it had taken ten years and his walking out on her for her to see it. But that didn’t explain how everything got so messed up. She’d had her whole life planned.

  “You look serious about something,” Mike said, coming up to stand next to her.

  She shrugged. “What were you doing? Casing the joint? Checking out the perimeter?”

  She’d been teasing, but Mike looked sheepish. “Some habits are hard to break.”

  “It’s been several years since the last terrorist attack, soldier,” she said. “Maybe you could not be on alert tonight.”

  “Maybe.” He took a sip from his bottle of beer. “What’s your excuse?”

  “I miss my kids.”

  “What else?”

  “I thought I’d be married forever.” He offered her his bottle and she took a swallow. As a rule, she didn’t like beer, but tonight the biting yeasty flavor tasted right. “I suppose that’s what I get for trying to plan out everything. I was tempting fate.”

  He leaned against the fence, bumping her elbow with his.
She could smell the faint scent of his skin. He was warm and tempting. She found herself wondering how she could get their bare legs to brush together without making a complete fool of herself. She couldn’t come up with a plan and figured she would have to settle for looking at his legs. Bless the summer heat, she thought with a smile.

  “There are always variables,” he said. “You’ve got to learn to go with them. No matter how well I plan a job, there’s always something. Some kid steps out in front of the car, the electricity goes off. When you least expect it, life throws you a curve.”

  “The ribs are ready,” Beth said, coming out the back door and carrying a large tray. The men parted to let her through to the grill, then Darren took the tray from her.

  “Mike, why don’t you take the first watch?” Darren said, holding out the tongs.

  Mike started toward the other man. When he reached the grill, he looked back at her and winked. Low in her belly she felt a flutter of awareness, of need and something slightly more dangerous. A tugging that went all the way to her heart.

  It wasn’t just that Mike was gorgeous, had a smile that could melt aluminum and a body worth worshiping. It was that he was also a nice guy. She had a feeling, a very bad feeling, that life had just thrown her a curve.

  Chapter Six

  It didn’t take Mike long to figure out he didn’t like barbecues. Grown men standing around an outdoor grill on a hot, muggy summer evening burning meat and fighting off bugs wasn’t for him. If they wanted to go camping, that he could understand. He liked being away from civilization, pitting his skills against the wilds of nature. But this suburban ritual made no sense to him. The grills were gas, for God’s sake, and the meat had already been partially cooked in an oven.

  He took another swig of beer, then shrugged. Everyone else was having a good time. He didn’t have to understand what they saw in it. In his business, he was used to watching other people do odd things. What made him nervous this time was that everyone knew who he was.

  He liked his life in the shadows. When he guarded a political figure or a celebrity, all eyes were on the client. But here, in Beth’s backyard, they knew his name, what he did for a living and the fact that he’d served in the military.

  “I wish our football team had a chance at a winning season this year,” Sam said. “It’s Jeff’s last year.”

  “He’s going to play?” Darren asked.

  “Running back. First string. But he’s not going to try to make the team in college. He wants to keep his grades up. You follow football much, Mike?” Sam asked.

  “I don’t have the time.”

  “Too bad.” Sam grinned. “Here it’s nearly a religion. Especially the high school and college games.” He turned his attention back to the grill.

  Mike leaned against the fence and watched the men. They were all dressed the same, in shorts and T-shirts. They were around his age, at various stages of fitness and hair loss. He’d never thought of himself as middle-aged, but these guys looked it and they were his contemporaries. Maybe he needed a new line of work. He rubbed his thigh and thought that might not be a bad idea, but what else did he know how to do?

  Darren turned the ribs over again. Mike’s turn at the barbecue had been mercifully brief.

  Jack, who was married to Christina—or was it Mary?—sat on one of the lawn chairs. “I’ve been thinking of getting one of those mowers you ride.”

  Darren laughed. “Your yard isn’t any bigger than this one. Where you gonna ride it?”

  “We’re thinking of buying some property and building a cabin,” Jack said.

  Darren shook his head. “Then wait until you get the land. But if you need a chipper, I just got a great one. It would make mulch out of a chain-link fence.” He poked at the ribs. “Beth wants to redecorate the living room.”

  All the men groaned. “Don’t talk to me about decorating,” Jack said. “I was thinking of doing something in a floral print.” His voice was high. “How does this sample make you feel?”

  Sam, tall and thin, with dark hair, motioned with his beer. “It took Sally three weeks to pick out tile for the guest bathroom. Three weeks!”

  “And how much did it cost?” Darren asked.

  “Don’t remind me. For that price, it should have been installed by naked dancing girls.”

  Roger, a large man with a belly hanging over the waistband of his shorts, leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I have a new assistant. You should see this girl. Twenty-two, maybe. With big eyes and bigger—” He cupped his hands in front of his chest.

  “You working overtime yet?” Jack asked.

  Roger winked.

  Mike took another swallow of his beer, draining the bottle. The sun had slipped low enough that the backyard was in shade. There was a long deck behind the house. Two tables had been set up, with paper tablecloths and plastic glasses. There were lawn chairs scattered on the grass. From the deck, a stone path led to an oval-shaped swimming pool with a large Jacuzzi at one end. He felt as if he’d traveled to a foreign country. The natives might speak the same language, but he didn’t understand the subject matter. He also didn’t want to hear about Roger’s young assistant. It made him think about Cindy, and how Nelson had betrayed her.

  He tilted his empty bottle. “I’m going to get another one,” he said to no one in particular.

  He limped into the kitchen. The women were gathered around the center island. It was a long counter with a sink in the middle.

  Christina—or was it Mary?—was peeling a carrot. “He works so late, leaving me with the kids all the time, then he gets mad when they don’t want to do things with him. Why would they? They’re teenagers and have their own lives. He only has himself to blame. I’ve tried to explain that to him, but he won’t listen.”

  “I worry about the same thing with Nelson,” Cindy said. He didn’t think she’d noticed he’d come into the kitchen. “He only sees them every other weekend. He can’t have a relationship with them that way. I’ve told him I wouldn’t mind if he saw them more, but he can’t be bothered.”

  Sally shook her blond head. “Men. Do you know what I got for my birthday?”

  There was a chorus of no’s.

  She looked up and grimaced. “A gift certificate for a year’s worth of car washes.”

  Cindy laughed. Beth groaned.

  “I know,” Sally said. “It’s pathetic. I told him I wanted a pair of gold hoop earrings. That’s not too difficult. But it would have required him going to the mall on his own, and I’m sure he’d rather face a pack of rabid dogs.”

  “Darren will shop,” Beth said. “I just wish he was more romantic. You know, flowers every now and then for no reason. Or maybe even call me up and say, `Don’t bother cooking, honey, let’s go out.’” She straightened and shrugged. “He’s a sweetie, really. If I ask him to go out, he always says yes, but sometimes I wish he would offer.”

  There was a murmur of assent.

  Mike limped over to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. Cindy saw him and walked over.

  “How are you doing?” she asked quietly.

  He moved toward the back door and she followed. “My leg aches, but otherwise I’m fine.” He glanced at the group of women in the kitchen, then out at the men gathered around the grill. “Is it always like this?” he asked.

  She followed his gaze. “The separation of the sexes? I suppose so. I hadn’t thought about it. I think we all like spending time with our friends. These women see their husbands every day.”

  He supposed it made sense, but something felt off to him. The complaining, the being apart. “Do any of the people in these couples love each other?”

  The question seemed to have surprised her. She tilted her head and smiled. “Of course, Mike. What would you think?”

  That they didn’t seem very happy to him. “I’m just observing the situation,” he said. “Checking out the local customs.”

  “Check out the food,” she said. “It’s nearly time to eat.”


  She was right. The next few minutes were a bustle of activity, with salads and bread being set out on the tables and the men serving the meat.

  Mike sat at the end of one of the picnic tables and used a stool to prop up his bad leg. He could feel the aching pain from the workout, not to mention the standing around he’d done earlier. He would pay for this activity tomorrow.

  He was pleased when Cindy settled next to him. He didn’t want to hear any more about Jack’s lawn mower, or Roger’s new assistant. But as Cindy asked him his preferences and scooped food onto his plate, he realized the dynamics of the group had changed. The men and women were no longer separate. They sat together, two by two.

  Darren sat next to Beth. She was talking to Sally. Without glancing at her husband, she picked up a bottle of hot sauce and passed it to him. When he accepted the bottle, he bent forward and kissed her bare shoulder.

  Roger sat on the end of a chaise longue with his wife’s bare feet in his lap. In between bites, he massaged her toes and pressed her heels into his thigh. When she glanced at him, he murmured something Mike couldn’t hear, and winked. His wife smiled and nodded.

  They were all like that. Sitting together, exchanging private, unconscious touches, performing a ritual that somehow bonded them. They leaned against each other, brushed arms, kissed lightly, all the while talking with everyone around them.

  He felt as if he’d come into a play during the second act and no one could explain the story. Deep in his chest, in a place he’d forgotten he had, he felt a twinge of regret. Perhaps at one time he could have learned the words and actions of this world, but it was too late now.

  He looked over at Cindy. She was next to him, close, but they didn’t touch. She didn’t give him secret smiles or lean against him.

  When the meal was over, the women cleared the table while the men sat around and discussed sports. Mike didn’t have an opinion on the Houston Oilers. He’d never followed professional teams much. There wasn’t any point in getting excited about a season when his work would force him to miss most of the games.

  After a few minutes, Darren stood up and stretched. “All right, guys, are we all going to do it, or do you want to flip for it?”