Falling for the Bodyguard

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Falling for the Bodyguard Page 8

by Jean Oram


  Daphne grabbed the phone, surprising him when she didn’t allow him to raise it to his ear. “Don’t you want more?”

  He paused, staring at her for a moment. “I’m not sure I can have it all. Your dreams are too big.” He gave a helpless shrug.

  “I meant more time with Tigger. To get to know her.”

  His phone began buzzing again in their shared grip. “I’m sorry. Today’s gone sideways on me. I wish I had more time, but I have a business to run and my dad needs a proposal from me ASAP.”

  There was hurt in his eyes as he walked away, phone at his ear, shoulders hunched forward in defeat.

  Moments later, Mistral paused, then turned back. “Daph, the kid and I’ll spend time together. I’m here for the rest of the summer, off and on.” He came closer, voice dropping. There was a hint of the young man she’d once loved hiding in his wistfulness. “We’ll get to know each other. Okay? Plenty of time.”

  Summer ended in less than two weeks.

  “You’ll see her again?” Daphne asked.

  Mistral paused, watching Evander and Tigger goof around. “Call me.”

  Daphne had to remind herself that just because she was ready to move faster, it didn’t mean Mistral was. She had a habit of looking far into the future and wishing for too much, and this time she needed to allow it all to happen as it was meant to.

  He would see their daughter again. That should be enough for now.

  She turned to find Evander behind her, teeth clenched so tight he was going to need cranial sacral massage to align his body systems again.

  Reaching up, she gently placed a hand along his tense jaw. “You’re going to pull yourself out of alignment.”

  He blinked at her as though not quite sure who she was or what she was saying.

  “It’s time to get home,” he said.

  “Fine.” She’d lost brownie points with Evander today, while he’d earned a stack to last him a lifetime—or, in his case, until tomorrow at least. The idea of losing points with him bothered her even though he was a bossy grump. For some dumb reason she wanted the big lug to think highly of her.

  It was almost as though she’d developed a crush on him today. The idea tickled her mind and she began laughing. How ridiculous! Evander? Not on your life.

  “What?” he snapped.

  His frown made her mirth all the more contagious and it spread through her body until she was bent over double, helpless.

  “You’ve finally cracked. Well, can’t say I didn’t see it coming.” He put his hands on his hips, looking so stern and serious that her laughter took out her knees, dropping her to the ground, where she let it take full control.

  “She gets like this,” Tigger said, giggling.

  Daphne sat up, holding her gut, trying to stop the laughter. “I’m sorry, I really am. This is all just so ridiculous all I can do is laugh.”

  Tigger bounded away, chuckling to herself.

  Evander yanked Daphne to her feet, his glare as deadly as a sharpened blade. “Just because nobody pulled a gun today does not mean we can laugh and have a merry time.”

  Daphne did her best to try and quell the riot of giggles expanding in her chest.

  Under his breath, Evander muttered, “What went so wrong in your life that you want your daughter spending time with a man who has an armed bodyguard with an itchy trigger finger lurking behind him at all times?”

  Her amusement ceased as though someone had pulled the emergency brake.

  “I don’t judge your life, you don’t judge mine.” She went to gather Tigger, who was sitting under a picnic table, picking dandelions and singing softly to herself. Daphne glanced back at Evander, who was waiting, arms crossed.

  How was she going to deal with him following her around for what would likely be days or weeks?

  And yet…if it hadn’t been for him today, things probably would have belly flopped hard enough to leave her stunned and breathless. She had expected him to make things worse by escalating the men’s worst sides, but instead he’d helped her daughter. He’d stepped up as the father figure Daphne had been seeking for her little girl. The fact that he was the one who had put Tigger at ease and looked out for her, instead of it being Mistral, was like a pebble in Daphne’s shoe.

  The universe obviously had a cruel sense of humor. Evander was not going to be the girl’s father figure. End of story. Mistral was.

  The universe was simply teaching Daphne patience.

  She just wished the universe would pick up the pace a bit.

  She crouched by the picnic table. “Come on, Tigger, time to go.”

  “Home?” the girl asked. “With you?”

  Daphne bit her bottom lip to hold in the pain. Just like that, her daughter’s world had changed enough that she no longer trusted that she would always be with her mother.

  “Yes, with me.”

  “Evander, too?”

  “Yes, I expect that he will follow us as usual.”

  “Can I ride with him?”

  The question set Daphne back. The man had definitely left an impression today. On both of them.

  “I think you should probably ride with me.”

  The girl crawled out from under the table, grass stains rubbed into the hem of her dress. Without a word of argument, she climbed into the minivan.

  Evander was talking on his phone, and Daphne felt so exhausted that even though she knew this was her chance to shake him, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she waited outside her van, intrigued by the way his forehead was scrunched and lined. Phone still to his ear, he raised a hand, placing a thumb on one temple, his index finger on the other. Yup, definitely pulling things out of alignment with all that stress he kept bunched up under his skin. The man could use some serious yoga, too.

  “Mom, are you sure you can wait that long?” he said into his phone.

  Mama’s boy.

  “No, I’ll be there in twenty. Time me.”

  Daphne tried not to show her surprise. Just like that he was ditching her? What had happened to all the safety stuff he was so keen on? Had the meeting with Mistral convinced him that the danger was gone? The idea both elated and disappointed her in one mixed-up swirl of confusing emotions.

  Evander looked up at Daphne, and she felt the power of his gaze hit her hard in the chest. Something was wrong in his world. Something big. Realizing that he, indeed, was human shouldn’t be so shocking to her, but the idea was foreign and new.

  “That’s for me to figure out, Mom. Just sit still. I’ll be there soon.”

  Evander turned off his phone, eerily silent for a moment. His shoulders were hunched forward, his eyes screwed shut. She watched as his hands flexed tighter and tighter around his cell. Afraid he was going to break it, she gently tried to loosen it from his grip, hoping not to disturb him. His fingers tightened instinctively and she lightly rested both palms around his fist. She wasn’t afraid, but she felt the need to move slowly and carefully.

  “You’re going to break it,” she whispered, tugging on the phone. His fingers released immediately and she took the warm case from him. “Are you okay?”

  He remained silent, not moving.

  She pushed him toward her van, her mind made up. Time to earn back some brownie points, or at least repay a favor or two. “Where are we going?” she asked. She had him in the van’s passenger seat before he realized what was going on, and began blinking and shaking his head. She shut the door on him, not knowing whether he would stay put or not.

  She climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled out. “Where to?”

  “Bracebridge,” he said finally.

  “Buckle up, then.”

  They were on the main road out of town before he began protesting. “I can drive.”

  “We’re already on the road.”

  “I should drive.”

  “You’re in no condition to do so.”

  “You don’t have enough gas.”

  “Sure I do.”

  “Th
e gas light is on,” he said, his voice hollow.

  “I can get to town and back on that.”

  “You should always keep in the top quarter.”

  “I’d always be at the gas station.”

  “Stop taking risks.” He turned to her with haunted eyes. “What if you had to evade someone and ran out of gas?”

  “Evander…”

  “Promise me you’ll be more careful.”

  “Shut up and let me drive,” she said, already regretting the good deed.

  5

  Evander was out of the van before Daphne had pulled to a complete stop in front of the house. He didn’t even remember getting into her van. He bounced against the front door and it shook and creaked in protest. Right. Unlock it first. His fingers fumbled over the security code and the dead bolt finally released, letting him in.

  His mother was waiting in the entry, sitting on a stool, face pale, fingers trembling as she tied the laces of her running shoes.

  “There you are,” she said, as though everything was normal.

  But nothing would be normal ever again. Florence had been hiding a massive secret from him. They had been living in the same house, and even though he’d been trained to spot irregularities, he’d missed the fact that his mother had cancer.

  She patted his arm and said, “Now, now, you’re blaming yourself for something, aren’t you?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She sighed. “Let’s talk about that later.”

  The home’s security alarm began screaming and he wished there was something he could smash to make it shut up. Couldn’t it see they were in the middle of a crisis?

  “Where’s your phone?” Florence asked.

  Evander patted his large pockets, finding the gadget. He turned off the security alarm, and with his pulse still racing, swept his mother into his arms and out the door.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, put me down.” She gave his shoulder a swat. “I can still walk, you know.”

  Daphne’s eyes were as round as saucers as he strode up to the van. She scooted around the van to open the passenger side door, and Evander placed his mother inside, buckling her in. She gave him an exasperated look.

  “I haven’t turned into an invalid, you know,” she said sternly. “And don’t forget to lock the house.”

  He shut the van without a word and returned to the house to do so. He needed to get an app for that, too.

  When he got back to the vehicle, his mother and Daphne were commiserating. He could tell by the way they shut up when he entered the van.

  He turned to Tigger, who was silently regarding his mom. “They were talking about me, weren’t they?” he asked.

  The girl sat up straighter, as though trying to keep the secret inside.

  “No, it’s okay. You can side with your mother,” Evander said. “I know they were complaining. It’s what women do about men.”

  Daphne giggled and pulled out, taking them to the medical office as per his mother’s directions. Evander’s right foot kept pressing into the floorboards, wanting them to go faster. Didn’t she know his mother wasn’t well? They needed to get there ASAP.

  “Let me drive,” Daphne said calmly.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  Florence chuckled in the backseat. “You didn’t tell me Daphne was so lovely.”

  Daphne laughed. “I think it’s beyond his capacity to see that.”

  The amusement in his mother’s voice allowed some of the tightness in his chest to ease off. If she still had a sense of humor… No, that didn’t work. Soldiers had joked in his arms as they drew their last breath. He needed to pull himself together. He would be no good to his mom if he allowed the fear to take over. Gripping the door handle, he got ready to leap out as soon as they stopped.

  A few minutes later, Evander was sitting beside his mother in the doctor’s waiting room, tapping his foot.

  “Are you okay? How are you feeling?” he asked again.

  Florence sighed, a hint of exasperation darkening her expression.

  Daphne and Tigger sat on his opposite side. This was not how he’d envisioned his day going down. He was supposed to keep work and life separated. Not this. The fact that Daphne was doing more of the take-charge and take-care role than he was didn’t help. She’d been the one who’d thoughtfully fetched his mother a cup of cold water from the waiting room’s cooler. She’d been the one who had lowered the room’s blinds so they no longer let the early afternoon’s sun stream into her eyes.

  He rubbed his mouth, hating the way his stubble felt against his hand. He needed a shave. He needed to get control. And the more he was around Daphne, the less he seemed to have.

  “You look tired,” his mother said.

  “So do you.”

  “Yes, but I have cancer. It’s a good excuse.” She gave him a beatific smile that nearly stopped his heart.

  “Tigger, stop it.” Daphne grasped her daughter’s arm, keeping her from restlessly tapping the table with the flat of her hands.

  “How old are you?” his mother asked the girl.

  “Five. How old are you?”

  Daphne reprimanded her. “You don’t ask adults their age.”

  “She asked me first.”

  “That’s fine.” Florence smiled. “I’m sixty-three.”

  “That’s pretty old,” replied Tigger.

  “It is. Come over here and I’ll show you something I’m working on.”

  Tigger was at her side in a second flat, taking the free chair to her left. His mom slowly pulled her knitting out of the shoulder bag she’d brought along. Her movements were slow, another hint that she felt worse than she was letting on. Evander reached over and helped settle the ball of yarn on her lap.

  With a calm and even voice, Florence began telling Tigger the story about how she’d learned to knit, and what she was making.

  “Can you make blankets for fairies?” Tigger asked.

  His mom paused thoughtfully. “I don’t see why not. Although I think you would need special yarn. This is too thick and wouldn’t cozy around a fairy in the right way. They are much too delicate. But I have a yarn…yes, a very thin, fine yarn that just might be right for fairies.”

  “Really?” Tigger’s eyes were glowing, and she seemed enthralled with his mother. Something pricked at the backs of Evander’s eyes and he breathed a silent prayer that whatever deity or power ruled the planets would spare his mother. Not just so she could be this amazing person for Tigger, but for his own children one day. Now there was a thought that hadn’t struck him since leaving the army. Where had that hope come from?

  “About how tall is your fairy friend?” Florence asked.

  Tigger placed her palms a few inches apart. “I think they’re about this tall. It’s hard to tell because they’re so fast and secret and magical.” She clasped her hands together, squeezing her shoulders toward her ears as though trying to hold in her exuberance. Cute. That’s what Tigger was. A real-life rocket launcher in human form.

  “They live on Nymph Island. I made them houses.”

  “Did you know your mother is a woodland nymph?” Florence asked.

  Tigger’s eyes grew round and Evander held in a groan. His mom was going to get carried away and the girl was going to be sorely disappointed when the truth hit her.

  “It’s true,” Daphne said. “I was named after a woods and plant nymph. All of my sisters were. Hailey is named after the water nymph. Maya is a celestial nymph—stars and such. Melanie is, well, Melanie.”

  “She’s not a nymph?” Tigger asked.

  “She’s an earth goddess.”

  “I miss Auntie Mellie Melon.”

  Daphne studied her hands and Evander wondered just how long the two sisters were going to fight.

  “Is the doctor ready yet?” he asked, shifting forward. Maybe he should remind the receptionist that they were waiting.

  His mother pushed him back in his
chair, barely pausing in her knitting. A headline from a newspaper on the table caught his eye. He picked it up. The story was about Rubicore, the municipality and the legal action Melanie had started against them. Which got Evander thinking.

  “Where did Austin go?” he asked Daphne.

  She gave a shrug.

  “I asked him to help keep an eye on you today.”

  Another shrug.

  Civilians. So reliable in their unreliability. It looked as if it was all on him when it came to watching Daphne and Tigger.

  His mother’s name was called, and while she refused his assistance down the long hall to the exam room, she let him guide her past the reception area. Then she paused, hand on his forearm, eyes meeting his.

  “You need to keep that family safe, Evander.”

  He nodded in reply.

  “You need to bring them home, to our house.”

  “I’m not bringing them home.”

  “How are you going to keep them safe if you aren’t with them? You need to keep them together and you need to be under the same roof. Our roof.”

  “I understand that, but I’m not bringing them home.”

  “You have the place so rigged up I’m half afraid to move and half afraid not to for fear some sensor will tell you I’ve expired.” She gave a wan smile.

  He’d never been a fan of gallows humor and especially not now.

  “Maybe that’s a good thing,” he growled, wishing he was like any regular man right now. At home. In front of a game, rum and Coke in hand. “And they are not moving in with us. That’s final.”

  His mom patted his cheek and smiled as though she knew something he didn’t. He hated it when she did that.

  Evander wiped his eyelids with the tips of his fingers and sighed. His mom’s appointment had revealed that she was dehydrated—something that scheduled home care could have prevented if his mother hadn’t been trying to hide her cancer from him.

  They’d given her fluids intravenously in the doctor’s office, then Daphne had helped take her home. Once Florence was settled, Daphne gave him a ride back to his truck in Port Carling, making him feel about as useful as air-conditioning in the Arctic.

 

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