“You hired my sister a bodyguard?”
Continuing to stare down at his lap, Asher rolled his right shoulder in what might have been a shrug. “Oz has someone checking in on your parents a couple of times a day as well. He says that, so far, everything has been quiet.”
Cameron had never seen him so unsure, so…lost. Obviously, he had expected a negative reaction, and maybe Cameron should have been mad that Asher hadn’t told him sooner. Instead, all he felt was relief and a warm rush of affection. With slow, deliberate movements, giving Asher plenty of time to push him away if he wanted to, he climbed into his lap and straddled his thighs.
“Is this okay?”
After being used and assaulted as a teenager, it was understandable that he would find certain situations triggering. With his past so close to the forefront these days, Cameron could only imagine that those feelings of being trapped, scared, and vulnerable were even closer to the surface. He didn’t know all the rules yet, didn’t know exactly what kind of touches Asher would find uncomfortable, but he was learning.
Asher tensed, and his hands twitched defensively at his sides before coming up to rest on Cameron’s hips. “Yeah,” he answered after a moment, his fingers kneading Cameron’s flesh as he stared up at him. “This is good.”
Cameron dipped his head, bringing their mouths together in a soft brush of lips. “Thank you.” While he didn’t bring in nearly the income Asher did, he could afford security for the people he cared about, and he felt guilty for not thinking of it sooner. “I’ll pay you back.”
At first, it looked like Asher would protest. He certainly looked like he wanted to, but instead, he gave Cameron a wicked grin and arched up to claim his lips again. “Okay,” he said, pulling away and leaving Cameron gasping for air. “Now, we’re even.”
That wasn’t at all what he’d meant, and Asher damn well knew it. Before he could say anything, however, two fingers came up to cover his lips.
“We’ll argue about it later, okay?”
Cameron deflated. For now, he could let it go. Once some of the stress and uncertainty lifted, though, they were going to revisit the conversation. As much as he appreciated Asher’s desire to protect his family, they weren’t his responsibility.
“I still need to go back to my place.” He grinned when Asher grumbled under his breath. “Call whoever you need to call. I’ll be ready to leave in half an hour.”
~
“You might want toduck down, Mr. Stone.”
Cameron nodded to his new personal bodyguard as he slid down in the passenger seat of the sleek black Escalade without protest.
A moment later, the guy spoke again. “Okay, we’re past the gate, Mr. Stone.”
“Please, call me Cameron.” He pushed himself back up, adjusted his shirt where it had bunched around his waist, and secured his seatbelt. “It’s Ryder, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir. Ryder Frost.” The corner of his bow-shaped mouth quirked upward, and he glanced over at Cameron with piercing blue eyes. “Most people don’t bother to learn our names.”
“Most people are dicks.”
Ryder’s smirk morphed into a full-blown grin. “True enough.”
“Okay, so explain something to me.” Cameron loosened his seatbelt a little so that he could shift in his seat. “Oz and his team are guarding the house, right? No offense, but why couldn’t one of them take me to Mission Grove?”
“No offense taken.” Slowing to accommodate the car in front of them that was going well below the speed limit, Ryder reached for the radio, turning it to a country station at low volume. “First off, Mr. Dare has a fairly substantial property that requires the entirety of his security team to patrol it.”
“I guess that makes sense.” It was a pretty massive place.
“Second, we all have different training levels,” Ryder continued. “So, Oz and his team are what we call EROS, Escort and Residential Occupancy Security. Basically, they’re trained for residential security and low-level escort gigs.”
“Security for private parties and around-the-clock work like they’re doing now?” Cameron asked, determined to keep up with the conversation.
Ryder nodded. “Exactly.”
A frown pulled at Cameron’s lips, and he could feel his brow wrinkle. “Okay, so what qualifies as a low-level escort?”
“Jobs like escorting businessmen to the airport or following socialites around town while they shop.”
“Or keeping a celebrity author from getting into too much trouble in his own house,” Cameron mumbled.
His bodyguard laughed. “Something like that. Really, it just means they handle the low-risk jobs since they’re not as extensively trained in all areas of security.”
