“Can we go outside? Do you think the stars are visible?”
Her question floors me. There’s only one answer. I remind myself I’m dealing with a city girl.
I shrug, grab my mug, and head for the door. Mia follows with a swish of soft skirts and fruity perfume.
She stands on the last porch step, gripping the railing and looking up. “Wow! This is amazing.”
I shrug, tilting my head heavenward. Don’t know about amazing. It’s every night out here.
She hugs herself, eyes delighting at the glittering swatch of diamond overhead. “So, how’d you become a bodyguard?”
“Plans changed.” I don’t want to get into it. Get into the injury that gutted my life and my career.
Mia laughs, shaking her head.
“What?”
“Questioning you makes me feel like I’m a CIA agent or something. Do I need to waterboard you to get a straight answer?”
I shrug. “Not much of a talker.”
“You should tell me to sit down before major revelations like that. Last thing I want is to faint from shock.”
I step forward, scanning the ground for what I need. Dipping low, I snag a perfectly smooth pebble, pale gray in the fullmoon’s light, oblong and more flat than long. Unceremoniously, I pocket it.
“Don’t tell me you’re a rockhound.”
She’s funny, I’ll give her that.
“Or,” she says, tapping her finger against her lip. “Maybe you like skipping rocks across the river?”
I survey the vast expanse of valley surrounding the cabin, eyes searching the trees for movement, signs of anything out of place. Law enforcement may have taken a man into custody tonight, but that doesn’t mean I’m off duty.
“Wait, is there even a river around here for skipping?” Our eyes meet, electricity sizzling for one moment before I look away.
Nope, Holt. Not now. Not ever.
“I could spend hours out here,” she says, eyes drooping.
I fight the urge to ask if she’s sure about that. The less talking we do, the better. Need to keep things impersonal, professional.
The curvy blonde’s arms lift in a stretch indulgent enough for a cat. “But this night sky’s putting me to sleep.”
As it should.
She turns back toward the house, blanket pulled more tightly around her, and I watch the graceful dance of her skirt as she heads inside, and I follow. At the window by the front door, I pause, setting the flat rock on the sill just in case. A peace offering to Owl.
Chapter
Five
MAVERICK
Morning starts before dawn. Blankets folded, neatly piled on the couch. Pillows beside them.
I roll through surveillance footage from the perimeter, pore over camera hits.
A stray coyote, head tipping up curiously, ears wide for one moment before it drops its shoulders and scurries away. A badger on the south edge of the fence line, eyes glinting in grainy black-and-white. Two does, leisurely grazing the south pasture and taking advantage of the moonlit night.
