I was humming the tune when a wind gust slapped into the deck.
I stumbled backward, and a hand closed around my waist, firm enough that I felt it everywhere.
My heart slammed hard into my throat as I turned and spotted my guard, still damp from his shower.
Bronson was sneaky.
“When did you come out here?” I asked, trying not to pay attention to how strong his hands felt on me. “I didn’t hear the sliding glass door open.”
The wind was blowing in a storm, and my hair whipped between us.
I was acutely aware of how close we were. The man was built like a tank.
His fingertips shifted slightly against my side, and heat moved through me so fast it almost made me dizzy. He felt dangerous in a way I wasn’t prepared for.
Then he pulled his hands free.
“You don’t goanywherealone. Not even the back deck.” His voice was edged with steel.
This was everything I’d hated about Jimmy’s security detail.
But somehow, hearing it from Bronson didn’t make me feel controlled. It made me feel… protected.
He shifted closer, his eyes scanning my face.
Then he growled, “If you step out of my sight again, I’ll tie you to your bed myself. Don’t test me on that.”
I sucked in a tight breath. Bronson wasn’t like my previous security team.
He didn’t keep his distance, and the way he looked at me sometimes was positively scandalous.
There was something about his alpha-man vibe that made me feel weak in the knees.
The deck was darker now, the horizon line completely swallowed by night. And the ocean felt like something alive and restless.
He rumbled softly, “We should go back inside. You’re a target out here.”
“Can I just have ten minutes? I’ve been trapped inside this house for weeks now. Ever since…”
His eyes moved across me in the darkness. “Ten minutes, but it’s a mistake.”
“Thank you,” I told him, relief flooding through me.
“Walk me through it again,” he growled.
“What? The attempts? I already told Cal everything. You must have read the reports.”
“Now you’re telling me,” he rumbled. “Start from the beginning.”
Arguing with him would be pointless and exhausting. Bronson was the one in charge. And I imagined it was that way regardless of who he was with.
“Okay,” I said, feeling a wave of nervous energy as I thought about all the events that had led to this man being in my house. “The first incident happened as Valerie and I were walking into town on Seahorse Avenue. A car came around the bend going too fast. It seemed like…” my voice trailed off.
The memory was painful, and I found it hard to talk about.
“Tell me,” he rumbled, and all I wanted to do was put my faith in this man.
“The car seemed to veer toward the shoulder. I threw myself into the ditch to get out of the way, and it kept driving.” I paused. “That was it. It could have been someone texting and not looking at the road, maybe. It happens.”
