Page 6 of A Texas Hero

Her father answered on the first ring. “How are you, my baby gir—”

“Don’t you ‘baby girl’ me! This man just showed up to my boutique saying he’s my bodyguard. Arthur—”

“Archer,” Archer said, having followed her to the counter. He pulled on the lapels of his jacket. “Archer Rossi.”

Of course, he’d said that, but she forgot because her brain tended to go on hiatus when her hormones went into overdrive. And of course he had to have a cool name like Archer. What kind of name was that? Then she thought of her favorite archer, the mythical winged cupid, based on the Greek god Eros, who shot arrows of love at intended targets. Surely this was some kind of cosmic joke.

“That’s who they assigned to your case. I didn’t have a choice. It was whomever had availability.” Her father paused. “Why? Are you worried about him? Should we ask him to be reassigned? Is he leering at you? Is that dirty old man checking you out?”

She wished…

“No! He is definitely not either one of those.”

Archer’s eyebrow arched…well, maybe it quirked.

“Because if you feel unsafe for one instant, I’ll find someone else. All it takes is a phone call. But this agency comes highly recommended. It’s run by former military men. I didn’t think they’d send some old creep over.”

No, indeed. And Zoey couldn’t be responsible for this man being reassigned simply because she found him good-looking, and hence, a little intimidating.

Then there was that accent…

“Of course, not. That’s not what I’m saying. He’s definitely not a…”

Archer cocked his head.

“Okay, then, if I’m hearing you right, you’re still not happy I hired a bodyguard. Well, too bad.” She heard someone yell “Fore!” and her father cursed. “Time to tee up. Love you.”

Zoey was still holding the phone when her father hung up.

“Is there a problem?” Archer said.

“Not really.” Zoey put the phone away. “You’re in the right place.”

“But?”

“I just…to be honest, my father is overprotective. Simply put, I don’t need a bodyguard but he got me one anyway.”

“He sounds like my father,” Archer said. “I have four sisters and he is very protective.”

“Four sisters? Four?”

“We are Italian.” He shrugged. “I am an American citizen, but my family came to this country when I was twelve. I was not born here, but three of my four sisters were. They act like they are better than the rest of us.”

“Oh, no,” Zoey said.

“That is a joke,” Archer said with a slow, easy smile.

“Ah…hahaha.” Zoey laughed while thinking, God, I hope you’re single.

“Maybe you don’t mind me here for a couple of weeks?” he said, and he adjusted his tie. “By then your father will feel more comfortable with your safety.”

“Actually,” Zoey said, a bit shamelessly. “I’m worried, too. A little. This guy I dated, for like a month, won’t give up on me. But it’s just texts and emails. Flowers. How can you arrest someone for being nice?”

“He is not being nice. It is about control. I can make sure this man gets the message,” Archer said, and of this, she had no doubt.

“You’re going to ask him to stop sending me flowers?”

“If that is what you want. But my main job is to make sure he does not come anywhere near you.”