I studied him across my kitchen table. Rhodes Foster, former Marine turned bodyguard, about to become my fake boyfriend. A man who filled doorways and made my pulse skip just by existing in the same room.
This was either going to work or become very complicated very fast.
"Can you think of anyone who might be behind this?" Rhodes asked. "An ex-boyfriend, a rival, anyone who's made threats before?"
I wrapped my hands around my coffee mug for something solid to hold onto. "There's my ex-boyfriend, Landon Barrett. We dated about two years ago—eight months total. I ended things when he started getting possessive. Showing up at mystudio unannounced, getting upset if I didn't text back within minutes. He still texts sometimes. I ignore them."
Something shifted in Rhodes's expression—a tightening around his eyes. "What do the texts say?"
"Mostly that he wants to 'talk things through' or 'get coffee and catch up.' Nothing overtly threatening. Just... persistent."
Rhodes made a note. "Anyone else?"
"Blythe Tanner runs a competing coaching business in the next town. Several of my clients have transferred from her program to mine over the past two years—we have different philosophies when it comes to coaching. She's taken it personally."
"Noted. Anyone else?"
"There's a woman named Tiffany Hammond. We competed against each other in Miss Texas five years ago. I reported her for a rule violation—she'd altered her competition dress to gain an unfair advantage. She was disqualified. She moved away after that, but I heard recently she's back in the area."
Rhodes wrote it all down. "I'll have Mae Calhoun—Gray's sister—run background checks on all three. She handles research and intel for LSS. If there's anything to find, she'll dig it up."
"So what happens now?" I met his eyes. "You follow me around all day?"
"I'll be staying here with you. Guest room if you have one." He gestured toward the hallway. "Need to be close in case of emergency."
My stomach did a slow flip. A stranger. In my house. Starting tonight.
Except he didn't feel like a stranger. Not entirely. Not with those steady blue-gray eyes and that quiet competence and the way he'd listened to my rambling explanation without once making me feel foolish.
"It's down the hall," I said quietly. "First door on the left." The guest room—really more of a decorative space than anything functional, with its soft floral daybed that looked like something from a Laura Ashley catalog—sat opposite my bedroom door.
"Thank you." He stood, drained his coffee. "I need to step outside quick—call my neighbor about my horses. Then I'll get settled in."
"You have horses?"
"Two. Small property outside town." Something flickered across his face—affection, maybe. "Neighbor's good about checking on them while I'm working cases."
After he went outside, I stood in my kitchen and tried to process everything that had happened.
Maybe someone had threatened me. Maybe they hadn't. I didn't know for sure.
But my father had called in a bodyguard just in case.
Rhodes Foster would be sleeping down the hall, listening for threats I wasn't even certain existed.
And tomorrow, we'd start pretending to date.
I changed into pajamas, washed my face, went through my nightly routine on autopilot. When I came out of my bathroom, I could hear Rhodes moving around in the guest room, settling in.
I climbed into my king-sized bed alone, pulled the covers up, and stared at the ceiling.
Maybe I was being overly cautious. Maybe the note was a prank and the brick was random, and in a week or two I'd look back on this and question my judgment.
But maybe I wasn't. Maybe someone really was targeting me, and if I'd ignored it, something terrible would have happened.
Tonight, Rhodes Foster was down the hall. Former Marine. Trained bodyguard. Alert and capable.
And for the first time since finding that note Monday evening, I could breathe a little easier.
