by R. R. Banks
The man turns and flees, heading for the bathroom and away from us. I turn to Felicity again and she’s still sitting with her arms crossed over her delightfully full and round chest, her lips pursed, her expression annoyed.
“And that proves what exactly?” she snaps, her voice matching her expression.
“That you don’t know how to read people nearly as well as you think you do,” I tell her. “That’s assessing just two people sitting stationary in a booth that you got horribly wrong. How do you think you’ll do in a crowd of people? Think you’ll be able to spot the bad guy before he’s able to get to you?”
For the first time, I see a flicker of doubt in her eyes. She’s a confident woman, and I don’t want to strip her of that. But I also need to make her see her shortcomings if for no other reason than to keep her safe. She sits back and chews on her bottom lip. I can see her mind spinning. I think I’ve made my point.
“Listen, I don’t care if you hire me or not. I really don’t. It’s not like we get along all that well, so you may want to hire somebody else. I can give you some solid recommendations,” I tell her. “I’m just saying I think you need to hire somebody to keep an eye on you while you’re doing your thing. For your own safety.”
I slide out of the booth and slip some cash out of my pocket and drop it on the table. She just looks up at me with an inscrutable expression on her face.
“You need to do it for your safety. And I don’t want a good friend of mine to have to bury his sister because of her stubborn pride,” I finish.
I give her a nod and a tight smile before turning and walking out of the diner.
Felicity
“Guess you decided you need a little help after all, huh?” he ribs me.
“Don’t push me, Knox,” I snap. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Well that’s not a great attitude to have. Especially when you’re about to meet with all of your fans.”
“Shut up,” I mutter. “Aren’t you supposed to be invisible today?”
“Not until the event actually starts,” he tells me.
“Shouldn’t you be out there blending in or something already?”
“When you’re as good as I am, you don’t need to work to blend in. You just do.”
The man is infuriating. He’s arrogant, abrasive, brash, and entirely too stuck on himself for my liking. I have never met anybody who thinks so highly of themselves. It’s as nauseating and irritating as it is exhausting. It galls me that I ended up calling him to handle security for me after all.
Despite all of that, I can’t keep the man out of my head. And that only pisses me off even more. He’s a gorgeous man, but it’s more than that. There’s something about Knox Vaughn that intrigues me. Something about him that compels me and draws me.
It makes no sense to me at all. This is not the kind of man I usually involve myself with. Or the kind of man I’d ever want to involve myself with. We have nothing in common. We’re polar opposites about – everything.
So why in the hell is he always on my mind?
“Oh, you’re here,” Maura sneers.
She enters the small tent where I’m sitting, her eyes on Knox, a look of distaste on her face. He just grins at her. He obviously enjoys getting under her skin. This – Knox being here in the first place – is her idea, but she’s clearly no happier about it than I am. But deep down she knows – just as I do – this is probably the best course of action we can take.
“Well, it’s lovely to see you too, Ms. Kazmeyer,” he responds. “What’s the matter? Somebody drop a house on your sister this morning?
As loath as I am to admit it, Knox is right. I do need somebody to watch my back. That stunt he pulled at the diner is proof of that. I obviously can’t read people nearly as well as I thought. Or at least, picking a threat out of a crowd isn’t within my skill set. In my defense, it’s not something I’ve ever had to think about before.
“Charming,” Maura’s voice is haughty. “I assume Felicity has already gone over the rules with you?”
A mischievous grin flickers upon his lips. “Yeah, we had a discussion about rules.”
“Then why are you standing in this tent? This was off limits to you,” Maura presses.
Knox smirk. “Nothing is off limits to me.”
My cheeks flush and I look away. I haven’t told Maura that he shot down the list of rules she proposed before I even told him what they were. I’m pretty sure if she knew, she’d be pissed. Maura can be protective to the point that she’s almost controlling. Doesn’t matter what it is or who’s involved – she micromanages me at times. In any other person, that sort of smothering would undoubtedly lead me to reading them the riot act. But I know Maura has my best interest at heart, and that everything she does is for me – to protect me and help me succeed. How could I ever be mad at that?
I guess – if he could ever shut up for five seconds – Knox would be the same way, too. He wants to protect me, but it’s hard to take him seriously when every other word out of his mouth is some sarcastic, witty rejoinder. For now, I trust him enough to be there to physically protect me from this stalker. But to trust him like I trust Maura? Forget it.
“Maura, it’s okay,” I say softly.
She looks him up and down like he’s a piece of roadkill on the side of the highway. “Fine. Whatever. Then what are you doing standing here like an idiot?” she snaps.
Knox shrugs. “I guess it’s because I’m an idiot. It’s what we do, right? I mean, I should know, but being that I’m an idiot and all, I forget these things.”
Maura huffs. “Jesus,” she mutters. “Do you need me to write out instructions for you?”
“Golly, it’d sure be helpful. Thanks,” he quips.
I bite my bottom lip and stifle the laugh that threatens to burst out of me. I know he’s just being an asshole, but Maura is taking him seriously, which is kind of funny. She won’t see it that way and I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. For all of his irritating qualities, Knox Vaughn can sometimes be funnier than hell. Not that I’d ever admit that to either one of them.
“I don’t have time for this,” Maura grunts. “Get out there and do the job we’re paying you to do.”
Knox grins at her again. “Pretty sure it’s Peter who’s cutting the check.”
If she rolled her eyes any harder, they’d probably get stuck like that. Maura is well beyond frustrated at this point, and I know if I don’t get Knox out of here, she’s going to go off like Krakatoa. And I’d really rather not have another scene at one of my signings.
“Knox, you’re here to watch my back, not antagonize Maura,” I say. “And Maura, don’t keep feeding the trolls.”
“We should have brought in a rabid pit bull instead,” the older woman quips.
“And miss out on all my charm?” Knox ribs her further. “Besides, I’m already housebroken. Mostly.”
Maura scoffs and turns to me. “I’ll be outside until this – person – leaves to do his job.”
“Just so you know, this person’s job is to keep Ms. Manson safe,” Knox replies. “That includes the private tent where she’s often alone and at her most vulnerable. By herself. An easy target in a place a lot of people have access to. Did I mention a place where she’s alone?”
Knox’s tone is light, but there’s a steel behind his words that’s unmistakable. Maura catches on to what he means, but even if she agrees with his assessment, she’s sure as hell not going to tell him. She doesn’t want to give him any credit or encourage him in any way.
She gives him that withering look of contempt she’s perfected. It melts lesser men and sends them scrambling for cover, but Knox seems to revel in it. He stands there, his hands clasped behind his back, a wide grin on his face. I can feel the anger radiating off Maura from where I’m sitting – he’s clearly getting under her skin a lot deeper than she’s getting under his. Maura turns and gives me a small smile before storming out of the tent.
“She seems swe
et,” he comments.
“You have a real talent for pissing people off,” I remark.
Knox shrugs. “We all have our gifts.”
I check my watch and see that I have about five minutes before I go on, leaving Knox and I to sit there and stare at each other for a few minutes. He levels that steely-eyed gaze on me, the intensity of it making the breath catch in my throat. I look away and feel myself growing warmer – and it has nothing to do with the beautiful spring day outside the tent. The heat flaring in my cheeks is matched only by the heat flaring elsewhere in my anatomy.
I quickly unscrew the cap on my water bottle and take a drink, hoping the cool liquid will extinguish the fires inside of me. I turn back to see a small enigmatic smile upon Knox’s lips, and find myself wondering what it means. I find myself wondering what he’s thinking about – and kind of hoping that it’s me.
My eyes drift across his body. When I realize they’re lingering on his crotch and the way his jeans fit so snugly to him, I quickly look away and resist the urge to slap myself then and there. Although that roguish smile is still on his face, he has the good grace to not say anything about me obviously checking out his package. Thank God for small miracles.
No, no, no. I can’t. I won’t. I’m not going to let myself get caught up in a guy that is wrong for me in just about every conceivable way. That’s a recipe for disaster and heartache. Knox and I have nothing in common. We couldn’t possibly be more different if we tried. And on top of that, he’s a sarcastic jerk who seems to enjoy tormenting people.
“It’s almost time,” he says, his voice a deep, rumbling bass I can feel reverberate pleasantly through my entire body.
“Yeah,” I clear my throat. “Should probably get out there.”
“Can’t keep your admirers waiting.”
I roll my eyes at him but can’t keep the smile from touching my lips anyway. He goes through the flap in the tent first, then holds it open for me, his eyes continually scanning the area before us. His body tightens up, and his expression grows serious. I guess this is Knox the bodyguard in his professional mode. I’m glad to see that he takes his job seriously, at least.
Wearing black jeans, black work boots, and a black t-shirt that clings to his tightly-corded muscles, he cuts an incredibly imposing figure and is intimidating as hell. If I were the guy stalking me, there’s no way in hell I’d mess with Knox. But then, the guy stalking me probably doesn’t have much in the way of reasoning or rational thought.
As I walk across the grass, Knox’s massive presence looming behind me like a shadow, I bask in the warmth of the day. Fans wave to me from behind the ropes, and I give them a wave and a smile. I wish I had time to go talk to them and sign a few books – I know it always meant a lot to me when my favorite writers would take the time – but I need to be on stage soon. I should have come out earlier.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” I call to them. “Come back after the panel!”
They cheer and wave to me again, their enthusiasm and happiness more than apparent. It makes me feel amazing to be able to brighten a person’s day. It means even more to me that my work has moved them enough on some level, that they’d come out to see me.
The Spring Book Festival has been one of my favorite ways to spend a day for as far back as I can remember. I started coming as a teenager to buy new books, hear my favorite authors speak, and interact with other passionate readers. It was something I looked forward to every year.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks.
I glance at Knox and smile as a wave of nostalgia rolls through me. “I was just remembering when I used to come to this festival as a teenager,” I say. “I used to dream of being up on the stage with other writers I admire, doing a panel talk.”
“And now, here you are.”
A rush of disbelief and gratitude wash through me as I soak in the moment. Yeah, here I am. I made it. I actually made it. I have to keep working hard and building on the success I’ve achieved to this point, but I made it to this first step of where I want to be. The reality of where I am sends an electric surge of excitement coursing through me.
Maura is waiting at the bottom of the stairs that will take me up to the stage for the panel discussion.
“You can go now,” Maura dismisses Knox.
He chuckles and looks to me for a moment. Our eyes meet, and I feel a different sort of electrical current shooting through me that sears my veins. I quickly look away and clear my throat, doing my best to shut out all thought of Knox and focus on the task at hand. I take a minute to gather myself then look back at him.
“It’s okay,” I say. “They’ve got security around the stage.”
He nods. “I’ll be out there. Just give me a shout if you need me.”
“She’ll be fine. Now leave,” Maura growls.
She wraps a protective arm around my shoulders and shepherds me up the stairs to the backstage area. I cast a quick look over my shoulder to see Knox still standing at the bottom of the steps, watching me. But he’s not staring intently with his bright blue eyes. He’s not joking or laughing at me, either. The look on his face is almost – warm.
Before I can stop it, our eyes meet, and a smile slides across my face. The heat blossoms in my face once more. I turn away, trying to focus on what Maura is saying to me, but not hearing a word thanks to the jumble of thoughts rattling around in my head.
I’m starting to realize that Knox isn’t quite the meathead I’d first thought he was. He’s sharp, and there’s an intelligence in him that he seems to take great pains to hide. I’m not sure why he’d dumb himself down, but his quick wit betrays him – an actual idiot is never that quick on their feet and ready with a sharp retort.
Plus, there was the scene in the diner. Yeah, he might simply be a very observant person, but he picked up on small, subtle cues that most people wouldn’t. Hell, he picked up on cues I didn’t, and I consider myself to be pretty smart. Somebody who isn’t very smart isn’t going to make the connections he made in the short amount of time he made them. It’s just not possible for somebody who’s not very bright.
It makes me curious as to why he downplays his intelligence, but it shows me that there are many layers to this man. There is, as they say, a lot more than meets the eye with Knox Vaughn.
“Where is your head?”
Maura’s voice, as well as her hand on my arm giving me a gentle shake, pulls me back to the here and now. And now she’s looking at me like I’m not all that bright. A rueful smile crosses my face as I realize I haven’t heard a single thing she’s been saying.
“Sorry. I guess I zoned out there for a minute,” I admit.
Her eyes widen slightly as she looks at me. “Oh God. Please tell me you’re not into that guy.”
“What guy?”
I smile and try to paint the picture of sweet innocence, but I know exactly who she means. And judging by the eye roll, I’m pretty sure she knows I know who she means.
“No. Not at all,” I state. “There’s nothing there. He’s a total meathead. We have nothing in common. Nothing to worry about.”
She looks at me for a long moment and then purses her lips. “Honey, he’s gorgeous, but would be so terrible for you and really, is the last thing you should –”
I take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’m under control. Promise.”
She arches an eyebrow at me but smiles softly. “You know I’m not trying to deny you a good time. And I really do think having somebody in your life would be a good thing,” she says. “Just not – him. He is about the worst decision you could ever make.”
I laugh. “Fear not, Maura. I don’t have the time or interest for dating right now,” I tell her. “My sole focus at the moment is on my career.”
Her smile widens and she nods. “Excellent. Then get on out there.”
As my name is announced, the audience erupts in applause. I step out from behind the curtain and onto the stage. Alr
eady seated are the three others on our ‘Up and Coming Women in Mystery Fiction’ panel, and I feel a wave of nerves. They are far more established than I am – personally, I think they’re way too established to still be considered ‘up and coming’. All three are brilliant writers and I’ve enjoyed every single one of their books. To be included with them on this panel is surreal to me.
But even as nervous as I feel, Knox’s presence just off stage calms me. Centers me. I feel warm and comforted knowing he’s here, and all my stage fright just fades away into nothing.
I take my seat alongside them, letting the sunshine – and the applause – rain down on me. I look up to the sky, admiring the clouds, looking as soft as cotton candy, drifting lazily through the azure blue above. It’s still cool, but there is a gentle touch of warmth to the air. It’s one of those rare, perfect spring days. I can’t help but feel like there’s some sort of divine intervention happening. It feels like some mystical forces combined to ensure the day is gorgeous and nothing rains on my parade – both literally and figuratively.
As the panel discussion starts with one of the others talking about their creative process, I’m feeling good. No, I’m feeling great. Amazing, even. This is, by far, the biggest stage and biggest crowd I’ve been exposed to in my young career. And I owe it all to Maura. It was her who fought to get me put on this panel. Just as she’s fought for so many other things for me. I’m grateful beyond words for that woman.
As the discussion goes on, and I’m telling the audience a bit about my own creative process and literary influences, my eyes drift across the audience. I feel a slight twinge of nerves as I see a guy standing off to the side, a baseball cap pulled low, but I quickly realize it’s not who I thought it was. Silently, I breathe a sigh of relief.
I do my best to shut all thoughts of Elliott Graham out of my mind. I’m safe up here. Protected. And I can be that comfortable because I know Knox is out there, roaming around, and potentially putting himself in harm’s way. For me.
As one of the other women fields another question, my mind wanders, my head filling up with thoughts of Knox. I spot him hanging on the fringes of the audience. He’s slowly scanning the entire crowd, keeping a watchful eye on everything. He looks casual and relaxed, but I know he’ll be ready to go in a heartbeat if my stalker shows up. I know he’ll handle any situation before something bad can happen and I have every confidence in his ability to protect me.