Deceiving Bella: Book Eleven In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series

by Beauman, Cate

  “Good night.” Bella got out and shut her door before he could turn off the ignition.

  He rushed out and around to her side. “Bella.”

  She stopped but didn’t turn. “Lucy’s waiting.”

  They were on boggy ground and they both knew it. She’d been just as affected by their dance as he had—by whatever had passed between them. “If you need anything tomorrow, let me know.”

  She nodded. “Good night,” she repeated.

  If he were someone else, if Bella was someone else, they wouldn’t be ending their evening here on the lawn. “Good night.” He went inside and directly upstairs, turned on his laptop, and began composing his notes and impressions after their “date”—not that he had much more than a sentence or two to add.

  This was a surveillance operation and deep cover mission of sorts—and he was failing miserably at doing what needed to be done. Sighing and sitting back, he pulled the pictures out of his pocket, staring at himself and Bella. “Damn,” he whispered as he set the strip down and stood, glancing at his phone before walking to his gym instead of calling Joey. He didn’t want to hear his partner’s shit when he had to confess that his night with Bella brought nothing new to the table. He needed to get a fucking grip, to remember what this whole thing was supposed to be about, because he was in big damn trouble where Bella Colby was concerned.

  Chapter Twelve

  Bella let herself inside and slid her feet from her black pumps as Lucy ran over to greet her. “Hi, sweetie.” Sniffling, she walked to the coffee table and plucked a tissue from the box, blowing her nose before she bent down to hug her girl. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She nuzzled her cheek against her puppy’s soft coat and closed her eyes. She’d done so well, holding herself together at the service while she did what she could to offer Angela’s grieving family comfort and a few kind words, but once she’d gotten into her car for the half-hour drive home, she’d fallen apart.

  Angela was gone—another victim of cancer. At moments like this, when her stomach was sick and her heart broken, she wondered why she kept going back to see the kids month after month and let herself get more and more attached. She’d attended two other funerals during the eight months she’d been working at the hospital. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t be the last. Some of the cure rates were getting better, but they weren’t good enough—not even close.

  More than once over the past few days, she’d contemplated calling the patient care coordinators she worked with to tell them her schedule was just too busy to continue with her volunteering, but then she would miss out on all of those sweet smiling faces and precious hugs. Making a difference wasn’t always easy, but helping in the limited ways that she could was important. Wiping at her nose again, she eased away from Lucy. “I need to change.”

  Lucy followed her upstairs, keeping close by her side.

  “You’re my girl.” She petted her best friend, forever grateful that Lucy understood what she needed so well. “I don’t know what I would do without my pretty girl.” She took off her simple black dress and hung it up, hoping to get one more wear out of it before it had to go to the dry cleaners.

  Glancing toward the sun shining bright through the windows, she walked over to her chest of drawers. Shorts were certainly an option today, but she pulled on yoga pants and a tank top instead, then tied her hair back in a ponytail, planning to do as little as possible for the rest of the afternoon. “Let’s go downstairs. We can try a movie or something.”

  Lucy followed, staying close as she had on the way up.

  “I’m thinking we should go for something funny. Maybe a romantic comedy, or straight-up comedy would work too.” At this point, it didn’t particularly matter. She just wanted to stop thinking about the small white casket and the graveside portrait of the smiling, healthy little girl that had been captured on a sunny vacation day only weeks before Angela’s entire life had changed.

  Snagging the box of tissues and the remote, she plunked herself down on the couch as someone knocked on the door. Sighing, she rested her head against the cushion, debating whether or not to answer, then gained her feet, twisting the knob when she heard Reed calling her name. She stared at him dressed casually in black mesh athletic shorts, a light gray Under Armour T-shirt, and his baseball cap worn backward, giving her a good look at his bold blue eyes and the stubble on his jaw he hadn’t bothered shaving.

  “Hey.”

  Her lip started wobbling as all of the emotions she’d been trying to tuck away flooded to the surface again. Despite things being strained between them after the wedding last night, she was glad to see him now. “Hi.”

  “Rough day?”

  She nodded, fighting back her tears.

  “Do you want company or would you rather be alone?”

  She opened the door wider as a tear fell down her cheek.

  He stepped inside and held open his arms.

  She walked into them and closed her eyes, letting her head rest on his chest as he folded himself around her. He smelled good, like laundry soap and Reed. He felt even better, his tough body holding her close.

  “How are you doing?”

  “That was awful.” She pressed her face into his shirt as her voice broke. “Awful.”

  He rubbed his hand up and down her back. “I bet.” He exhaled a long breath. “Do you want to get out of here for a while—maybe take a walk?”

  “No, not right now. I kind of feel like lying around.”

  He eased her back some, sending her a sympathetic smile. “Want a friend?”

  She stared into his kind gaze and nodded. Today wasn’t the day to analyze her feelings or the heat that had snapped between them while they danced. Apparently, Reed had decided the same thing or he probably wouldn’t be here. “Only if you’re not busy.”

  “I’m free for the rest of the afternoon.”

  “I was thinking about binge-watching The Office.”

  “If Michael and Dwight can’t cheer you up…”

  She smiled. “It’s a great show.”

  “I never had much of a chance to watch it, but the couple of episodes I’ve seen were great.”

  Her eyes widened. “You didn’t watch The Office when it was on the TV?”

  He shook his head. “I was pretty caught up in my work.”

  She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You’ve been missing out.” She took his hand, pulling him with her to the couch. “Today’s the day, my friend. Consider this another step in the right direction as we fix this serious, serious problem.”

  “Not watching The Office is a serious, serious problem?”

  “Yes.” She gave him a gentle shove to the cushion. “Sit right there while I get us set up.”

  He chuckled. “You’re the boss.”

  She grabbed the remote and turned on Netflix, finding their silly banter just what she needed—a beautiful distraction. “Should we start from the beginning or watch random episodes?”

  “Sounds like we should start from the beginning.”

  “I was hoping you would say that.” She went to season one, episode one. “Do you want anything to eat or drink?”

  “I wouldn’t mind some water.”

  “I’ll get us a couple of glasses. Ice?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll be right back.” She went to the kitchen, stopping at the cupboard for glasses, then moved to the fridge for a lemon and the pitcher of filtered water. Absently, she grabbed a knife and cutting board from the drawer, gasping when the bracelet she’d been wearing caught on the drawer pull and snapped.

  She stared in horror as the colored noodles Angela had painted and strung as a present for Bella fell to the tile floor and shattered. “Oh, no. No.” She scrambled down on her hands and knees, picking up the pieces, grabbing a red penne that had rolled halfway under the stove. The noodle cracked in her fingers, and she started crying.

  “Is everything okay in here?” Reed asked as he walked in.

  She nodded, sitting back
on her haunches and staring at the mess instead of looking up at him.

  “Bella.” He crouched down, tilting her chin up until their eyes met.

  “I broke Angela’s bracelet.” She shuddered out a breath and sucked in another as she held open her palm, showing him the crumbled remains. “She made it for me, and it’s broken.”

  “Maybe we can fix it.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so. She can’t make me another one.”

  “We’ll see what we can do.” He transferred the pieces from her hands to his and set them on the counter. “Come on.” He took her hand and helped her to her feet. “Let’s do something else for a while.”

  She swiped at her cheeks. “What about your water?”

  “We’ll get some later.” He walked with her to the couch, sat down, and settled himself across the length of the cushions, pulling her down so she lay on her side in front of him. Taking off his hat, he tossed it onto the coffee table and hooked his arm around her waist. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” He pressed play on the remote, and the iconic music from The Office filled the living room as he tightened his hold around her and pulled her back, securing her feet in place with his leg. “How’s this?”

  “Good.” But she struggled to focus on the theme song, then the opening scenes of the pilot episode as his breath heated her neck and her heart raced. Their relationship was supposed to be simple. Why did this feel so complicated? On impulse, she rolled over, facing him.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.” She stared into his eyes mere inches from her own as their bodies lay tangled together. “What are we doing?”

  “Watching The Office.”

  Was that all this was: walking beaches, attending weddings, snuggling on couches? Were they really just friends? Because last night and right now… Testing herself and him, she touched his cheek, trailing hesitant fingers along the rigid set of his jaw.

  He reached up, grabbing her wrist, halting her movements. “Bella—”

  She swallowed as his unsteady breaths mingled with hers. “What are we doing?”

  He held her arm tighter. “We’re watching TV.”

  She gave a small shake of her head when he loosened his grip and their fingers found their way to each other’s, lacing together. This was more than beach buddies and the Reed McKinley Project. Easing forward, she pressed her lips to his.

  He jerked back, breaking their connection, his breath steaming out in torrents as he let his forehead rest against hers. “We can’t.”

  “Reed,” she whispered, closing her eyes when his hand left hers to slide along her arm and into her hair, freeing her long locks from the elastic.

  “We can’t,” he said again, even as he pulled her to him.

  She closed the mere centimeters separating them, capturing his mouth despite his weak protests.

  He stiffened, going perfectly still before he groaned and yanked her against him, diving in and teasing her tongue with his.

  She moaned, engulfed by flames as he cupped her cheeks and took her deeper, rolling and lying mostly on top of her. Her hands found their way beneath his shirt, sliding over the hot skin and firm muscles of his back, giving as good as she got.

  He nipped her bottom lip and plundered until she thought she might perish from the inferno. “Bella. Bella,” he panted out, pulling away. “This isn’t what I’m looking for. I’m not looking for this.” He sat up, untangling himself from her.

  She nodded and fought her way up to sitting as well. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” He scrubbed at his face and blew out a long breath. “It’s all right.” He looked at her.

  She swallowed, realizing she was as frightened by what had just happened as she was turned on. The intensity… “I don’t know why I did that.”

  “Probably because you’re a little raw after today and we’ve been dancing around this for a while.”

  She crossed her arms. “Last night…things got a little…heavy.”

  “We’d both be lying if we said there wasn’t an attraction…” He blew out another breath and stood, pacing away and back. “Look, I don’t want this to be weird. I like spending time with you. I like that we’re friends.”

  “Me too.” She uncrossed her arms and played the pad of her index finger over her thumbnail, still tasting Reed on her tongue. “We could—we could chalk the whole thing up to curiosity. That’s pretty normal, right? Being curious is perfectly natural in a situation like ours.”

  “Yeah.” He jammed his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, definitely.” He sat again, holding her gaze.

  “And now that we’ve gotten that little make-out session out of the way, it never has to happen again.”

  “Right. I couldn’t have said it better. Does that work for you?”

  She nodded, relieved. She didn’t want this—anything so all-consuming. She couldn’t handle it right now—didn’t even want to try. Clearly, Reed didn’t either. “You’re a great kisser, but you’re still not my type.”

  He grinned. “Right back at ya.”

  She returned his smile. “Just friends?” She held out her hand to him.

  He shook it. “Just friends.”

  “Exactly the way we were ten minutes ago before I lost my mind?”

  “Perfect.”

  “Are we—should we sit up or lie down?”

  “Nothing that just happened has to change anything.” He pulled her back down into his arms, lying with her the way he had before she rolled to face him. “How about we focus on The Office?”

  “Sounds great.” And it truly did. She rewound the episode to the beginning and let herself relax against him. The line had been crossed, then redrawn, putting their relationship into a comfortable category they both understood and could live with. She was snuggled up with her buddy on a day when she felt sad and out of sorts, and she was watching one of her favorite shows. It couldn’t have been any better.

  ~~~~

  Reed chuckled and Bella laughed while the final minutes of episode five played on Bella’s big screen. Lucy’s tags jingled on her collar as she moved on her bed in the corner, pulling Reed’s focus away from Michael Scott’s latest shenanigans to his current situation. Somehow during the last two-and-a-half hours, he’d rolled farther onto his back. Now that he was paying full attention, he realized that Bella lay more on him than the cushions—and her head rested in the crook of his shoulder instead of on the pillow they’d been sharing when they started their binge-watching marathon.

  The credits rolled. He leaned forward, snatching up the remote from the coffee table, and pressed pause. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a glass of water.”

  Bella sat up and stretched. “I’ll get it.”

  He sat up too, rolling his neck, loosening a couple of kinks. “I can get it. Cue up the next one if you want.”

  “Is this okay? Are you bored?”

  They’d shared one hell of a lip lock, then spent the afternoon snuggled up on her couch. Boredom wasn’t a word he would use to describe his day. “No way.” He stood. “Need anything?”

  “I’ll take a water too if you don’t mind.” She glanced at the clock across the room and gaped. “It’s almost five?”

  He glimpsed at his watch. “Looks like it.”

  “I guess we should be thinking about dinner. Do you want to stay?”

  He studied her, ignoring the sexy, sleepy look in her eyes, wanting to make sure they were one hundred percent okay after their epic blunder in judgment. So far, there didn’t appear to be any lingering awkwardness between them. “Sure.”

  “I don’t have a whole lot. I didn’t make it to the store.”

  “So we’ll order in.” He started toward the kitchen, finding himself surprisingly at ease after they’d attacked each other on her couch. Bella Colby looked good, felt great, and tasted even better. Luckily, kissing her had been as much a gift as a huge mistake.

  Things had gotten complicated; the
ir mutual attraction and curiosity had clouded his objectivity since the beginning, but their brief make-out session took the edge off and cleared the air. When he’d knocked on her door earlier this afternoon, he’d fully intended to talk to her about the post-wedding awkwardness. Never in a million years would he have guessed that practically eating her alive would have allowed everything to work itself out.

  The last twenty-four hours had afforded him a new clarity. Instead of sleeping last night, he’d had plenty of time to think. His conclusion: he’d gone about this investigation entirely wrong. For seven years, he and Joey had hung around bastards who would just as soon kill them as talk to them. Early on, he and Joe had learned to keep their guards up and maintain a professional distance. But that wasn’t going to work with Bella. She wasn’t a brutal Mafioso. The Bella Colby he was getting to know was a sweet, touchy-feely woman with ties to a life he needed access to. And that’s where the adjustments came in. Playing the friend card was giving him access to everything he needed, so why fight it? Was there an attraction between them? Sure. Had he been ready to rip off her clothes before he remembered to put on the brakes? Absolutely. Did he want to do it again? Hell, yeah. But neither of them was interested in traveling down that road. So all in all, things were good.

  Perhaps he’d been a little shaky over the last couple weeks while he got his bearings, but they were moving right along. He had full access to her house. She trusted him with her thoughts and tears. Right this minute, he could get at most anything he wanted—case in point: the small, neat stack of bills in the wooden organizer on the desk built into the kitchen counter he was glancing at. Electric, cell phone, water. Nothing earth-shattering. But here he was, unassuming, looking his fill. And on Tuesday, when she wasn’t so upset, he would start up with the questions again and work his way to the ultimate goal: a meet and greet with Nicoli Caparelli.

  Everything was going to be fine, just a little different. He was still on the fence as to whether he would share his new philosophy with Joey. His partner had said to do whatever needed to be done to get them their information, and he was, but that didn’t mean Joe would like his new approach. At the end of the day, he didn’t have to. Joey just needed to trust him and go with the flow.