The soft little furball looked ridiculous against Dex’s black leather jacket and tattooed hands.
“Sure, I’ll take the bunny, and you make sure the jackrabbit doesn’t lose her shit between here and the car.” His chuckles echoed as he left.
Eight long minutes later, Vanessa emerged from her bedroom, dressed in the tightest jeans he’d ever seen and an equally tight, long-sleeved black shirt. The swell of her breasts peeked tantalizingly out from the scoop neck. Her hair was in a high ponytail, and her face, as usual, was absolutely stunning.
If only she wasn’t glaring at him like he was sending her to walk the plank.
“Ready?” he asked.
Grabbing her coat from the hook, she hissed, “Let the games begin.”
He caught her elbow before she could breeze past him with her haughty self-righteousness. Tugging her to his chest so her cheek was a breath from his mouth, he said, “I know you hate me right now, princess, but this isn’t a game. It’s your life. I’ll risk mine. I’ll also risk Dex’s. But hell will freeze over before I risk yours. Understood?”
For a moment, she stood immobile in his hold, her breasts rising and falling as she grappled to steady herbreathing. Maybe he’d scared her, and maybe that was okay if it meant she’d start to take this seriously.
Finally, she tugged her arm free. “Let’s go before we’re late. We only have two more rehearsals before the show.”
He let her head out the door in front of him, inhaling deeply as she went, and praying he was doing enough to keep her safe.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Imean, at least he’s hot.” Natalie peeked over Vanessa’s shoulder at Dex, who was sitting by himself at a small table behind them. “In a kind of scary way.”
They were at the bar at Bowie’s, having well-deserved Thursday-night cocktails after a long day of dress rehearsal, and of course Mr. Broody 2.0 came with them. Vanessa tossed a glance at Dex, who flashed a fake smile that showed all his teeth, before wiggling his fingers in ahellogesture.
She sneered at him, which only made his grin widen.
“Do we think it’s weird that he’s just sitting there? Like, without even having a drink or anything.” Natalie was talking loud enough that Dex could probably hear her if he wanted. He clearly didn’t want to.
“I offered him a water,” Gabe said from behind the bar. “He grunted at me, which I took as a no.”
Vanessa nodded at Gabe. When she’d first met the owner of Bowie’s while planning her sister’s engagement party, they’d gotten off on the wrong foot, but they’d since come to a truce.
She cast another glance at Dex. “That tracks with his titillating personality.”
Gabe snorted, then moved on to serve a patron at the far end of the bar.
Vanessa sighed and shot her bodyguard another glance. His usual scowl had resettled on his features.
If Jordan appeared intimidating, Dex looked downright menacing, even when he tried to smile. Tattoos, each more terrifying than the next, covered every inch of visible skin from his neck down. He was almost as tall and muscular as Jordan, but a scar cut across his cheekbone, and he had a shaved head. His entirely black wardrobe made him look like the shadow Jordan promised he’d be.
And he’d lived up to expectations too. Dex had followed her for the last two days straight, hardly leaving her side. The only time off he’d had was at night, when Jordan arrived back at the apartment.
“The kids are terrified of him,” Vanessa said as she sipped her prosecco. “I think he likes it.”
“Well, we’re almost there.” Natalie tapped the rim of her glass against Vanessa’s. “Get through tomorrow, then you can start planning your trip back to New York for theCassidy Mooreshow, and the next phase of your life.” Natalie whipped out her phone and opened her social media app. “Have you seen this?” She showed Vanessa the homepage of a popular celebrity magazine. “It’s all good publicity.” She scrolled down, pausing at quotes that highlighted praise for The Link and the upcoming show. “Girl, it worked. You’re on the right side of history again. The fallen starlet has made a comeback!”
Vanessa had read the full article. She’d done the phone interview a few days ago, and the final piece had been kind.It boosted interest in the show. Tickets were already sold out.
Her hodgepodge group of underprivileged kids were getting more attention than they ever bargained for. They’d been absolute balls of excitement at today’s dress rehearsal.
They deserved it. She’d witnessed how hard they’d worked. Tomorrow would be life-changing for some of them, and she hoped they seized the opportunity to make the best of whatever came.
Like she planned to. But the upcoming show also signaled the end of her time in Portland. For some reason, that didn’t cause the rush of excitement that it had a few weeks ago.
“I have five days between the show tomorrow and the show in New York,” she said, ignoring the familiar pang of heaviness that hit her heart these days. “I plan to sleep and get a few spa treatments. That’s all.”
“Did someone say spa treatments?” Hope Morgan came up next to them and slid onto the stool beside Natalie’s, tossing her purse onto the bar top. “Sign me up. I need to do something about these bags under my eyes. Rose has been teething like mad, and we’re hardly getting any sleep. Hi, by the way.”
