Runningfrom this wedding is only prolonging the inevitable.
I twist the diamond ring around my finger, feeling foolish and more afraid than I want to admit. Aiden and my father will be looking for me, and for the same reasons. They want this marriage to go through no matter how I feel.
I press my temple against the cold window of the truck door and draw a shaky breath. My bodyguard is quiet beside me. I study his reflection in the glass as cars pass, using their brief beams of light to take in his dark hair and the scruff on his jaw.
When we stopped at the shopping center and he kneeled down to check my wounds, the light inside the truck gave me my first good look at his face. His eyes are the color of cognac in firelight—brown and gold with an intensity that makes my breath hitch. Like he’d personally hunt down the person trying to hurt me with no hesitation.
I scan his face, his strong shoulders, and his hands where they grip the steering wheel. There are faint lines in his tanned skin, more pronounced when he stroked a finger over my foot and frowned at the injuries. His touch was gentle but there isstrength in those hands. In every part of his body. He looks built of solid muscle.
Bronco is so different from the men in my world. He wears a black cowboy hat like it’s part of his body, and his jeans mold to his strong thighs like they know the shape.There’s a gruff, unrefined edge to him. The kind of man who wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near me.
Exactly the man I need.
But so at odds with the bodyguards my father usually hires. Men more comfortable in suits with earpieces who blend into the background at fancy parties.
Bronco stands out. How did he get assigned to me?
My chest locks with another thought.Did heget assigned to me? Was he telling the truth or is this something else?
Sitting up straighter, I face him. “You’re not the kind of bodyguard my father usually hires.”
He looks at me, then back at the road. “Let me guess. Suit, dark shades... could audition for a Men in Black sequel?” At my nod, he says, “You’re doubting my story. Smart girl.”
He removes his phone from his pocket, thumb sliding across the screen, and my father’s voice fills the cabin.“Mr. Calhoun... This... this is Floyd Whitaker.Camille is gone. She... she might have run, but I don’t think so...”
Bronco stops the message and puts the phone away. “Grayson Calhoun owns Lone Star Security.”
I release a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. I vaguely remember my father mentioning Mr. Calhoun. It confirms what I already felt—that I can trust Bronco.
He probably doesn’t realize it, but my father’s message reveals something else. They don’t know whether I left on my own or whether Aiden took me... and it didn’t matter.
“I can’t tell you why your father picked Lone Star, Princess. What I can tell you is that he contacted us just before Christmas.There were preliminary negotiations with my boss, a couple other operatives did some initial work on your family and fiancé, and a month-long contract was decided. I was supposed to start Monday, with the objective of keeping you safe until your marriage.” He rubs a hand over his flannel shirt and one side of his mouth tips up in a smile. “Not sure I’d have looked much different. But when your father called this morning to say you’d disappeared, I didn’t stop to clean up.”
“I’m glad.” If he’d been even five minutes later, I’d have been dragged back to the church. To Aiden. A shudder goes through me, and I sink further into his jacket. The scent of leather and musk steadies me in a way I can’t explain.
I feel safer with him than I have in the four months that Aiden has been my fiancé.
I hope he doesn’t take me back.
We drive for another ten minutes before Bronco slows the truck and turns down a long dirt drive. It’s darker than I’ve ever seen out here, with only the stars and moon to illuminate the world. The road curves, and a house comes into view.
He parks beside a low stone house with a wide porch and thick wooden beams. It looks old but solid. Lived in. Not fancy like the estates I’m used to, but sturdy. Like him.
Bronco’s already moving, circling the truck and scanning the shadows before opening my door. Cold air rushes in again, and I flinch.
“Easy,” he murmurs, strong hands unbuckling my seatbelt and scooping me into his arms like it’s nothing.
The dark opens up around us, and I can’t help my small gasp. The sky is endless here, scattered with stars so bright it looks unreal. Like a billion diamonds were scattered overhead to shine for eternity. In Midland, the lights swallow the night whole. Here, the darkness feels expansive and... alive.
“It’s breathtaking,” I whisper, because a normal tone seems too loud for the reverence I’m feeling.
A rumble comes from his chest before he says, “Quite breathtaking.”
The rough edge to his words draws me from the beauty above. He’s staring down at me instead of the stars, and there’s a weight to his gaze that makes my belly flutter with awareness.
I’ve never felt anything like it before.
Bronco looks away and carries me inside, shutting the door firmly behind us. He sets me down on the leather couch, then moves to the alarm panel to disarm it.
