His blue eyes sweep my features, reading the meaning without needing more. “Understood.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“But…” He moves in closer, leaning on the breakfast bar, and his clean scent invades my space. “I need to be honest about something, too.”
“Okay.”
“You were at the quarry alone,” he says. “Someone was out there. Someone who didn’t want to be seen. Someone who potentially tampered with the guardrail so Zoe would drop to her death.Potentially, someone who’s comfortable killing.”
My pulse kicks up.
“There are a lot of theories at this point, but lettingmaybehave the upper hand isn’t my style.”
He leans toward me, his jawline tics; he means business. “I’m not trying to overstep. I’m trying to be honest… I can’t sit this out,” he says earnestly.
He wants to keep an eye on me. I know what this is like. I only lived it less than a year ago, watching my best friend Lara with her devoted knight, Gabriel.
“So you want to trail me?” It comes out part-sincere, part-sass.
“With your permission.” He softens.
I should say I don’t need it, but I don’t.
“Okay, but I need you to treat me like a cop. Not like I’m in witsec.”
His smile is one of relief. “Roger that.”
The simplicity of it disarms me. No argument. No wounded ego. Just a man meeting me where I need him to. Where I’m still sharpening myself to be taken seriously, he’s solid and fully formed. God, it’s sexy.
I want to stand on my own two feet. I want to earn my stripes. But damn if he doesn’t make it hard to remember why asking for help ever felt like failure.
“Freya.” He leans even closer, and heat rolls off his body. “For the record, it’s not because I think you can’t handle yourself. It’s…”
His gaze drops to my belly for a second, then back to me.
Right. It’s for the baby. Everything is for the baby, Freya. Get back to your mantra.
“I know you just want to keep me safe…” I swallow, because saying it out loud feels like peeling off armor. “…Ourbabysafe.”
“Both of you.”
Both of us.
God, the lines are blurring.
Images flash uninvited: His body behind mine in the dark. His hand around my hip. His breath at my ear. The hottest damn bodyguard in the Universe. The kind of protection that isn’t soft—it’s lethal. The kind that ruins a woman for anyone else.
I try to sound composed. “Just…don’t make it obvious.”
“I can do stealth,” he says, voice curling low.
My breath stills thinking about him in his Navy SEAL combat gear, all sexy with black paint on his face, making those blue eyes illuminate like a predator’s.
I wonder if he has any old pictures.
I find myself leaning into the warmth between us when my phone buzzes and the room snaps back to cold reality. Good.
Something needs to save me from my daydreams.
