“Bennett,” someone exclaims from behind me. “Yo, Bennett.”
This time, I recognize the voice as Sergeant Peters. Sure enough, when I look over my shoulder, I see his six-foot-tall frame, stepping into stride beside me. With dark eyes, dark hair, and a cheeky smile, Sergeant Jaxon Peters has women falling for him left and right. Despite his jokester attitude and flirty eyes, however, Sergeant Peters is as single as I am.
“Peters,“ I say with a nod, trying unsuccessfully to walk faster than him and leave him in the dust.
I’ve been distracted all day, thanks to one little Miss Sage Makenzie. Being away from her has put me in a shit mood for most of the day, though I don’t think my coworkers notice much of a difference from my normal scowl. Now that I’m leaving for the day, my heart is lighter, my breaths are deeper, and I feel alive in a new and exciting way.
“The grumpy routine won’t work on me,“ Sergeant Peters says. “You might not know it, but you’ve got a grin from ear to ear right now. Wanna explain that?”
I rub a hand over my mouth to hide from his scrutiny. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.“
The man gives me some strong side-eye, his gaze looking me up and down as if assessing me for the first time. “There’s definitely something different about you today. The only time I’ve seen you smile this much is when we had pizza and lasagna delivered for lunch several months ago.”
“Let’s just say I have something better than lasagna waiting for me.” As soon as the words fall from my mouth, I want to take them back. I know he’s going to give me shit. Sure enough, Sergeant Peters gives me a knowing look and a wink.
“Oh, I see how it is,” he replies, wagging his eyebrows. “I won’t stop you from rushing home, but if you keep this up, you might lose your broodiest soldier badge.”
I shake him off and pick up my speed, his annoyingly charming laughter following me to the security booth as I sign out for the day.
As soon as I step outside the base, I jump in my truck and drive over to the coffee shop I told Sage to work at today. This morning, she told me that she’s a graphic designer and spends most of her days working from home. While it’s nice to have the flexibility, she’s a sitting duck at home. At least if she went into an office, there would be other people to keep an eye on her. Only an idiot would try to abduct someone in the middle of the day from an office building. Sitting home alone in an apartment, though…
I didn’t want to scare her or show her my anxiety, but I strongly suggested she work somewhere in public until I can pick her up and stay with her again. Sage was confused as to why I had a day job if I’m supposed to be her bodyguard, but when I told her I was a Naval Intelligence Specialist working at Ridgeway base, she seemed almost relieved. I don’t know if people in the military are inherently more trustworthy than anyone else, but if it got Sage to trust me, I’m glad I had all the experiences I did. Including the roadside bomb that sentshrapnel across my face and nearly blinded me. Everything I’ve been through was worth it if it brought me to her.
I pull into the coffee shop, Timberline Espresso, about ten minutes later, and hop out of my truck, anxious to lay my eyes on her again. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a reason to come in here, and I take a moment to appreciate the decor of salvaged timber, rough-hewn metal, and huge windows that frame the stark Colorado peaks.
When my eyes catch on Sage and her strawberry blonde hair, all thoughts of the trendy coffee shop leave my mind. Late afternoon sunlight tangles in her hair, making her look even more ethereal than usual. My sweet girl turns her head in my direction as if sensing my presence, and something about that settles deep in my soul.
Sage gives me a small smile, tilting her head slightly in the most adorable way. The sun streaming through the window kisses her cheeks and nose, which makes the freckles dotting her skin stand out all the more. I’m enchanted by every new thing I discover about this woman.
Sage waves tentatively at me, then retracts her hand as if embarrassed. That won’t do.
I stride toward her, never breaking eye contact. I’m aware of my intensity, but I can’t seem to help myself when I’m around her. “Tell me how your day was,” I say once I get to her table. I realize it comes out as a demand rather than a lighthearted question.
Sage tries to suppress a grin, but ends up giggling instead. The sound of soft tingling bells wraps itself around my heart, easing the tension I didn’t know was there.
“My day was mostly good,” she hedges, though her eyes dim slightly. I haven’t known Sage for very long, but I already know her tells. She’s hiding something from me, but I’ll get to the bottom of it.
“Oh yeah? Any interesting clients today? Or perhaps an interesting email?”
Sage busies herself with packing her computer and headphones away, which lets me know I’ve hit close to home. “Everything was mostly normal,“ she says while stuffing her computer charger into her backpack.
“There’s that word again.Mostly. As your bodyguard, it’s not my job to make youmostlysafe. It’s my job to make youcompletelysafe, and that starts with you being honest.”
My girl’s shoulders slump, and I wish I could take back my words. I don’t know how to be gentle, but for Sage, I want to try.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” I declare, changing topics. “You can tell me more about your day at home.” Sage looks down at her lap, then up at me, taking my outstretched hand and letting me help her out of her chair.
Just like every other time we’ve touched, my skin is ablaze with awareness and sensitivity. I want to feel every inch of her body beneath my hands, and then taste her sweet release on my tongue.
I help Sage into my truck, smiling to myself at how short she is. I didn’t know I had to type until I met this gorgeous, precious woman.
By the time I run around the truck and get into the driver's seat, Sage is already fidgeting nervously with her seatbelt. Whatever happened today, she’s hesitant to tell me. I suppressed the urge to drill her with questions, instead letting the silence blanket both of us until we get to her place.
When we pull into her parking lot, Sage jumps out of the truck and walks to her front door. I know she’s just doing it instinctively, but I’m her bodyguard now. I step in front of her and grab the keys from her hand, unlocking the door before stepping inside.
To my surprise, Sage doesn’t protest or ask me what I’m doing. In fact, she lingers in the doorway as if afraid to go any further.
Once I’ve secured the perimeter, I turn to Sage and motion for her to come inside. She trudges forward, knowing she can’t avoid the conversation any longer.
