I clench my fists.Focus, West.
My eyes track her every move as she navigates the crowd. She’s a force of nature in that skin-tight dress, drawing gazes like a magnet. But it’s more than just her looks. It’s the way she carries herself, confident and utterly captivating. Her hair’s a wild mess, sticking to her flushed cheeks. She’s a beautiful disaster, and I’min way too deep.
I shake my head, trying to clear these thoughts. I’m here to protect her, not fantasize about her.
She makes another attempt at the stage, but she doesn’t look stable.
I’m at her side in an instant. “I think it’s time to call it a night. Before I have to carry you out of here.”
“Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” She smiles, her eyes foggy.
“It's a gun.”
“Wow, way to kill the mood faster than your fashion sense.”
“Party’s over.”
“Mmm... Okay.”
I slip an arm around her waist, guiding her toward the exit. She stumbles but catches herself, leaning into me as we weave through the crowd. Her body presses against mine, the scent of her hair filling the air between us, and I grit my teeth, trying to stay focused on anything other than the heat radiating from her skin.
As we exit into the cool night air, and she’s safe in the car, Craig’s information nags at me again. Same type of mugging, decades apart. I wouldn’t make a big deal out of it, but the case is sealed for no apparent reason.
What the hell are you hiding, Mr. Valeur?
I drive her home and ease the car to a stop, gravel crunching under the tires. Cora tumbles out of the passenger side, a whirlwind of beads and perfume. I lunge, catching her just before she face-plants into the manicured lawn.
“My knight in shining black t-shirt,” she giggles, pressing against me. Her arms snake around my neck, fingers playing with the short hairs at my nape.
“Easy there. Let’s get you to bed before you turn into apumpkin,” I grumble, trying to ignore how perfectly she fits against me.
She pulls back, fixing me with an exaggerated pout. “But I like it out here. The stars are so...spinny.”
“The only thing spinning is going to be your head in the morning, Trouble. Bedtime.”
“Ooh, bossy Ryder. I like it.” She leans in close, her lips a whisper from mine.
Just one taste. That’s all I need.
I lean in, my resolve crumbling.
Just one.
Cora’s eyes go wide. She claps a hand over her mouth and lurches forward. “Oh, shit,” she mumbles, bolting for the house.
I chase after her, my heart pounding. She slams the bathroom door shut behind her.
“You okay in there?” I call through the door, wincing at the sounds of retching. I should’ve cut her off earlier, but that’s not my job. I’m security, not her babysitter.
After a few minutes, the door creaks open. Cora emerges, face damp, makeup smeared. “I don’t feel so hot,” she groans, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Let’s get you to bed.” I wrap an arm around her waist, guiding her upstairs. Once she’s settled, I dash to the kitchen, rummaging through her fridge. Soda water—that’ll help.
Back in her room, Cora sprawls across the bed, eyes closed. “Not yet. Drink this first.” I prop her up, holding the glass to her lips.
She sniffs the glass. “Is this your secret hangover cure?”
“Just soda. It’ll take the edge off tomorrow’s hangover.”
