The bookstore owner set me up at a long wooden table near the front. Stacks of my books were neatly arranged on it, like an altar to romance.
Then the line of fans was let through the door.
I posed for pictures, signed books, smiled, laughed at the right times, and worried I looked like a hostage in every fan photo. My cheeks ached, my wrist cramped from signing books, and I was sweating through my dress.
Through it all, Hayes stood beside me. Motionless and watching. He didn’t flinch when a toddler wandered over and tried to grab the shiny buckle on his belt, and he didn’t blink when a flash went off. Didn’t snicker when the fans gushed over my spicy scenes.
On the other hand, I was a mess. These people were all here to see me. I couldn’t wrap my head around that. They quoted my ramblings back to me like gospel and told me how my books had helped them bounce back after dark times. I was humbled, overwhelmed, and terrified to say something else that would go viral.
Hayes’s stoic presence was both comforting and infuriating.
He was my prison guard and wet dream rolled into one.
I was grateful for his steady energy, given the volume of people, but I also found myself wanting to impress him. Maybe not impress him so much as not embarrass myself in front of him. I wanted him to like me, and that made me feel like a silly teenager allover again.
“Ms. Darling,” he said between fans, “do you need a break?”
“Break?” I laughed, but it sounded a little wild. “Do you see the line?” I waved at the dozen people standing in front of me. “I can’t leave fans waiting.”
“You at least need to hydrate,” he said. He held a bottle of water out to me.
I accepted it because, dammit, he wasn’t wrong. “Thanks. You’re… annoyingly practical.”
He gave me the barest lift of an eyebrow. “It’s kind of my job.”
The next fan stepped up to the table, and her eyes darted back and forth between Hayes and me. “I am so excited to meet you. I’ve read all your books. Your life must be so romantic. Even your muscle man looks like Prince Charming.”
The only indication Hayes heard her was a slight flare of his nostrils, but I grinned at my fan. “Prince Charming is entirely fictional, but my guard here makes for great research material.”
The fan leaned closer. “All I know is if Prince Charming had muscles like that, Sleeping Beauty would have slipped him the tongue.” She gave me an exaggerated wink, and Hayes coughed to cover a laugh.
So the man was human after all. I was starting to wonder.
By the time the last fan left I felt like I’d run a marathon. Hayes looked exactly the same as he had when we’d arrived—calm, unreadable, and impeccably in control. I wanted to shake him and tell him to lighten up. And I also wanted to lean into the way his warmth lingered when he had to get close to me in the crowd.
“Do we have time for a drink?” I asked as I buckled myself into the truck. “After all those hours of beingsocial, I could use a margarita.”
“Rule five, Darling.” His jaw tightened, and I waited for him to continue scolding, but then his features relaxed, and he shook his head. “You did good.”
“You too. I’ve never seen someone stand still that long.”
“I’m glad my ability to do nothing impresses you.”
“I’m also impressed by your bossiness and rigid schedule, if that helps.”
He set his jaw and shook his head again.
We circled back to the hotel to pick up our luggage, then drove the half hour to Fort Worth. All things considered, all I had done today was sit, but I was exhausted by the time we checked into our hotel.
“No late-night coffee runs,” Hayes said, pinning me with his stare for a moment before he retreated to his room and softly shut the door between them.
I brushed my teeth and got into my pajamas. Even though my body was tired, my mind was wide awake. Every single thing Hayes had done that day flitted around in my brain, and I had to write it down. I pulled my legs under me and turned my poor, overworked laptop back on. It was one thing to get his looks right, but his voice, his steadiness, his calm yet deadly vibe, I needed to get it out of my head so I could sleep.
Calm but not cold.
Hid his kindness like a secret weapon.
I closed my eyes to picture him in my mind. What would it look like if he really had to protect someone?
