My Brother's Bodyguard (Hometown Heros #1)

by G. L. Snodgrass

My mind continued to stumble over itself as I looked into those silvery blue eyes of his and said, “Okay.”

  I swear the word came out before I had the thought. It slipped off the tip of my tongue before I even could consider what I was going to say.

  Nate smiled and grabbed his shirt, slipping it back on. I will admit it now. But yes, a small piece of my soul was disappointed.

  “I’ve got to get home. See you at six,” Nate said as he shot me a knowing smile. I swear the guy could read my mind. He could see the jumbled mess he had made of my brain and was loving it. I, on the other hand, being the cool, with-it girl, stared after him with my mouth open and my heart racing like a train on a downhill grade.

  Six o’clock, I thought. Four hours away. There was absolutely no way on this earth I could be ready in four hours.

  Chapter Six

  Nate

  Okay, I might have pushed things a little too far. Asking Elle out on a date had not been in the plans. Well, not exactly. Not yet. But the words had sort of tumbled out before I could stop them. The shocked look on her face had been more than worth it.

  Her saying, “okay,” had been a jolt. I hadn’t expected that. Not that easily. I thought I’d have to spend the next three days convincing her that it was the best thing for making the plan work. But she’d understood right away. Like her brother, Miss Watson was not an idiot.

  Oh well, I thought, as I waved at Jake and headed out the door. Sometimes, the best things happened when we didn’t plan for them. Of course, that was the philosophy that had gotten me into trouble more times than I wanted to count.

  Swallowing hard as I pulled up in front of her house, I went over things again. Keep it simple, I told myself. We’re doing this to keep Jimmy clueless. She doesn’t really like you. Do not forget that. No need to be nervous, this was all fake, remember?

  By the time I got to the front door, I almost believed it myself.

  When the door opened, I was a little surprised to see who I assumed was Elle’s mother. My first thought was that I could see where Elle got her good looks. The woman was dressed in mom jeans and a red top, but she still looked like she could hold her own.

  “Hello Mrs. Watson. I’m here to pick up Elle,” I said. The first rule of dating, I reminded myself. ‘Do not piss off the mother’.

  Elle’s mother stared at me for a long moment as she evaluated her daughter’s date. I swear she was considering slamming the door in my face. But at last, she relented and motioned me inside.

  “It is ‘Ms.’ Watson,” the woman said with a tone that let me know it was not up for discussion.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” I replied, fighting to keep the sarcastic tone out of my voice. She winced just a little. I think the Ma’am word was even worse to her than the Mrs.

  “I’ve got it,” Elle yelled from upstairs.

  “Elle,” Ms. Watson yelled back, “Your date is here.”

  Jimmy came around the corner, his nose buried in a book. “Hey Nate, what are you doing here?” he asked with a frown.

  “I’m taking Elle to the movies,” I answered. Keep it simple, I reminded myself.

  He paused for a second then smiled. “That explains why she’s been acting all weird for the last four hours.”

  “Jimmy!” Elle barked as she hurried down the stairs.

  I had to bite the inside of my mouth to stop from smiling. Then I caught sight of her and froze for just a second. She was wearing girl jeans, the good kind. The kind that reminded a guy why it was great to be a guy. Also, a flowing blouse and just a little makeup. It looked like she’d decided to go for the beautiful look vice the normal cute look.

  The girl was gorgeous. Long silky brown hair held back in a barrette, melted milk chocolate eyes that looked like they could trap a man for a week. Smooth, flawless skin, and long legs in tight jeans. Yes, it was good to be me.

  “Hi Elle,” I said, “You ready?”

  She didn’t smile, in fact, she barely looked at me.

  “Yes,” she said, “just let me get my purse.”

  “Elle, you have your phone?” her mother asked.

  “Yes, Mother,” she responded as she grabbed a purse off a side table.

  “I’m just checking,” her mother said defensively. “This is the first time you’ve done this and I …”

  “Mother,” Elle snapped before she could stop herself. Her cheeks jumped to that pretty shade of red she got when she was embarrassed. I swear, if there had been a way, Elle would have dug a hole and pulled the dirt in over herself.

  My first thought was to wonder if I would spend the next hour teasing her about this or show some mercy. Then I saw the look of pure pain in her eyes and relented. I’d let it go for now. But keep it in my back pocket if I ever needed it in the future.

  Weaving around her mother, Elle pushed me towards the door. “Let’s go,” she said. The girl couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

  “Nice to meet you, Ms. Watson,” I said as I followed Elle out the door.

  “Don’t forget curfew,” her mother yelled as I held the passenger door open for Elle.

  She ignored her mother and shot me a look that just dared me to say a thing. Anything about her family and I’d live to regret it.

  I pushed back a laugh and hurried around to the other side.

  “Your mom seems nice,” I said as I started the truck. Okay, maybe I was a little sarcastic.

  Elle shot me that murderous scowl of hers, making me laugh. For some reason, all of the nervousness I had felt before was gone. This was Elle, I reminded myself. It wasn’t real.

  “So, any ideas on what you want to see?” I asked.

  She shook her head and continued to look out the passenger window.

  “Well, what do you like, I’ll give you a choice, aliens, war movie, or if we have to, Super-Hero end of the world thriller.”

  She turned in her seat to look at me with a strange expression.

  “We don’t have to do this,” she said, “Jimmy just has to think we are going to the movie. You don’t actually have to go.”

  Okay, where was that coming from? “What? Let me guess, you don’t want to be seen in public with me.”

  Her brow creased into a deep frown for a second. “No,” she said. “That’s not it. It’s just that you don’t have to keep pretending. Jimmy’s not here.”

  Now it was my turn to frown. “Okay,” I said. “But remember, the other part of this was to make me irresistible. Make it so girls would be interested in me.”

  Elle scoffed and shook her head.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Like you’d have a problem getting girls. If you crooked your finger and gave them that famous smirk of yours, half of them would claw each other’s eyes out to be your girlfriend.”

  Where was this coming from? I wondered again as I tried to figure out why she was so upset. What had I done? I hadn’t teased her. Not really, I’d tried to make a good impression with her mother. I’d even taken a shower and put on clean clothes. So why was she mad at me?

  “I was only teasing about the movies, if you want to see a chick flick, we can. First date rules and all.”

  She glanced over at me, I swear her anger had just gone up a notch and still I couldn’t figure out why.

  “Just because this is my first date, doesn’t mean I’ve never had a boy find me interesting,” She said.

  Wow, someone was on edge.

  “Listen, Elle, of course you’ve had boys interested in you. A girl as beautiful as you is going to have dozens of boys interested. Believe me, I’ve seen the way that they look at you when you’re walking down the hall. But that wasn’t what I was talking about. First date rules are like not talking about ex’s, or marriage or kids. You know, the rule that says that the girl gets to pick the movie. It is a way for the guy to pretend he’s nice. Really it wasn’t that big a deal, just a lame attempt at a joke.”

  “Oh,” she responded. “I thought you were teasing me.”

  “I proba
bly do that too much,” I said as a wave of guilt washed through me.

  “You think?” she said sarcastically.

  “Okay, okay,” I said. “You’re probably right. Listen, I will try to tone it down.”

  She gave me a quick glance that let me know she was rather positive that would never happen.

  We continued on for a few minutes in complete silence. Suddenly, that easy, tension free atmosphere, had been replaced by a wall of pure angst. It only began to ease off as I pulled into the theatre parking lot and I threw the truck into park.

  “So, we’re really going to see a movie?” she asked.

  “Sure, unless you don’t want to. We could go to dinner, or I could take us up to the park, find a secluded spot, and we could just make-out all night. Your call.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she focused like a laser. “Funny,” she said.

  All I could do was shrug my shoulders and wait.

  She looked down at her hands for a moment then said. “Can we just go to dinner. Not too expensive, McDonald's would be fine. When I checked earlier, I couldn’t find anything I wanted to see. I mean, it’s not like this is a real date or anything.”

  I studied her for a moment and slowly shook my head.

  “Oh, it’s a real date,” I said. “We might be doing it for strange reasons, but it counts as a real date. One more item you can cross off your bucket list.”

  She smiled at me, then reached out and slapped my arm for absolutely no reason.

  “Do you like Italian?” I asked.

  “Who doesn’t?” she asked as if I’d wondered who preferred breathing.

  I smiled back at her, then dropped the truck into gear. I knew just the place.

  .o0o.

  Elle

  Nate surprised me by driving us to a small Italian family style restaurant named ‘Tuscany’ on the other side of town. I’d lived in this city my entire life and never heard of the place. He’d been surprising me all day. First showing up at our house to work with Jimmy. Then, the whole asking me to the movies thing. Showing up to our house in a button-down shirt and jeans looking hotter than a boy should be allowed to look. And finally, not pitching a fit when I said I didn’t want to see a movie.

  Yes, Nate was full of surprises.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see a movie. Not really. It was just there was just no way I wanted to sit in the dark for two hours next to Nate Clark. The tension would have killed me. No, better that we spent the time in a neutral environment. Somewhere with other people.

  I hopped out of the truck and let him lead me to the restaurant.

  A welcoming wave of garlic and basil and happiness greeted us. “The chicken parmesan is excellent,” he said as his hand touched my lower back while he escorted me through the door.

  Okay, a girl could get used to this. Sure, the buzzing butterflies were a distraction. And the constant need to watch what I said, was a bother. But being the center of Nate’s attention could become addicting.

  The hostess smiled at us and took us to a secluded table in the back. I swear the woman smiled at us like we were ‘Lady and Tramp’ getting ready to share a meal. Nate’s remark about finding a spot up at the park and making out all night jumped into the front of my brain and refused to leave.

  He held my chair for me then sat down and smiled.

  It seemed that Nathan Clark could be a gentleman when he wanted to be. Interesting, what other special talents did he possess? I wondered.

  “So, Elle,” he said as he opened his menu. “I must warn you, I usually save fancy restaurants until the second or third date, so don’t go getting any ideas. First date rules still apply. No deep dark secrets revealed. No looking at other guys, wishing you were with them. And of course, No sex,” he said with a quick laugh. “At least not unless you get me drunk first,” he added with a smirk.

  I laughed, and then a warm relief washed through me. Nate was trying to make this easy. We were going to have a drama-free meal. Two friends. Or at least, potential friends, with a common cause. Protecting Jimmy.

  Once I understood where I was at, and what this all meant, I was able to relax and enjoy myself. There was no significant meaning behind everything. Just good food and good conversation.

  After the waitress left with our order - I got the chicken parm of course – I folded my hands in my lap and looked around the restaurant. Deep down, I was sort of upset that I wouldn’t run into any of my friends here. I would have liked to see their reaction when they saw me out with Nate. Correction, I would have loved to see their reaction.

  “So tell me about yourself,” Nate said with a false seriousness. “What are your hopes, dreams, fears, and secret desires? And I want full details on the secret desires part.”

  I laughed. “There is not much to tell. Happy home, loving mother, overbearing at times, but loving. The greatest Nana in the world. Weird genius brother. Two more years then I am off to college and real life.”

  It sounded so boring when I said it.

  “Where’s your dad? Do you get to see him?” Nate asked.

  My stomach tightened up into a ball. It really shouldn’t have, but it did. I shrugged my shoulders and said, “I don’t have a father.”

  Nate’s brow creased into a deep frown as he said, “Strange, your mother didn’t strike me as the virgin birth type.”

  I tried not to smile as I shook my head. “Nope, modern science, and test tubes. Both Jimmy and me. The same donation, just four years apart. Mom was a big believer in the words of Gloria Steinem.”

  Nate continued to frown and said, “You lost me?”

  “You know, the famous quote, ‘A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle. Ms. Steinem didn’t originate the quote of course. Some woman in Australia did. But she popularized it and my mom sort of took it on as her personal mission in life.”

  Why was I babbling? About this subject of all subjects. Shut up Elle, I told myself as I quickly grabbed a breadstick and hoped the world would go away.

  Nate pursed his lips for a moment and asked, “What do you think?”

  I looked back at him for a moment. No one had ever asked me that. What I thought on the subject. Mom dictated what we should think and the matter was closed.

  Shrugging my shoulders, I said, “I don’t know. I don’t know if a woman needs a man to find happiness, or vice versa for that matter. I think everyone needs different things. But I do know that a child needs a father.”

  A strange look passed behind his eyes as he slowly nodded in agreement.

  “What about you?” I asked, “what are your parents like?”

  He grimaced a little, he tried to hide it, but it was there.

  “Oh no,” he said, “First date rules. The guy doesn’t talk about himself. He has to make sure only the girl talks about herself. It’s a rule.”

  I laughed, “You’re lying,”

  He laughed back, “How do you know?”

  “Because your lips were moving. Come on spill.”

  He was suddenly silent for a long second then he shrugged his shoulders and said, “They both died when I was ten. I lived with my Aunt Mary and Uncle Jake in Seattle, then moved down here with my Uncle Jake earlier this summer when my aunt died.”

  My heart cracked. You idiot, I thought to myself as I saw again the pain behind his eyes. Why had I pushed? Why couldn’t I just let things alone? What must it have been like? I groused about never having a father. It must have been so much worse to have lost one. And his mother as well. And his aunt.

  My mind frantically tried to think of the right thing to say.

  “Hey, enough sad stories,” Nate said as he took a long sip of water. “Those are definitely reserved for the second date. Now it is all supposed to be just the good parts. I make jokes, you laugh like they’re funny.”

  I swallowed hard and fought to keep a tear from forming. He was still in a lot of pain, I realized. Even eight years later and he still felt deeply about his loss. It seemed that Mr. Nate
Clark had a lot more layers than I had thought.

  Thankfully, the waitress interrupted us with our meal and we were able to shift to easier topics. Like the fact he had been right about how good the chicken parm was.

  We switched to common stuff, discussing favorite books, music, the differences between Seattle and California. Everything safe, everything easy. But things had changed between us. Just a little. Just enough to make me look at him in a new light.

  Chapter Seven

  Elle

  The waitress took our plates and brought us our dessert order – Crème Brule’ for me, of course – Ice cream for Nate. The conversation had hit one of those lulls that made my stomach hurt as I frantically tried to think of something to hold off that wall of awkwardness. We’d discussed everything two young people could safely talk about without hitting any more sore spots.

  So of course, I took it off into a completely uncharted territory.

  “You said something today that’s bothered me. Can I ask you about it?”

  “Sure,” he said, his spoon halfway to his mouth. His brow furrowed like he was getting ready to get punched and trying to figure out a way to avoid it.

  I took a deep breath. “You said I had no idea what a thirteen-year-old boy was going through. What did you mean?”

  He let out a relieved breath and shrugged. “Just that boys were different than girls and you didn’t have a reference point.”

  Now it was my turn to frown with confusion. “Do you mean that boys have a harder time with puberty than girls? Because I can tell …”

  “No, not worse, or easier, different,” he interrupted.

  “What do you mean exactly?” I asked, I was curious, and this was a conversation I could have with absolutely no one else in this world. Anything that helped me understand my brother would be good.

  Nate put his spoon down and stared at me for a long second as if trying to decide whether to reveal the deep dark male secret or not. Suddenly, I desperately wanted to know what it was.

  “What is the most important thing to a thirteen-year-old boy?” he asked.