Page 6 of Broken Bodyguard

MADDIE: I’ll be ordering my dinner from here soon.

MERCEDES: I’m glad you’re out doing something. Has everything been okay? Be honest.

MADDIE: Your brother is making things hard. He won’t stop texting today.

MERCEDES: Where are you?

MADDIE: Some new place called Espuma. It’s a girls’ night out for one. I’m trying something you’d approve of: reading at the bar.

MERCEDES: Sounds fun. I’d totally read at the bar next to you. How long do you plan on staying?

I frowned down at my phone. Her questions about my location were odd, but maybe she was making a joke. Ever since she’d started dating Trace Fairchild, she’d become a type ofbon vivantwho wasn’t afraid to take his private jet across the country for the right reason, but flying out to join me seemed a little impractical.

MADDIE: I just got here. Are you going to surprise me for my solo girl’s night?

MERCEDES: Surprise, yes. Me? No.

She wouldn’t give up more information despite my repeated texts, but I didn’t have long to wonder. The bartender approached for my drink and food order, which I gave him—pinot grigio, a basket of bread with olive oil dip, salmon with rice. I pulled my paperback out of my purse once he’d hurried away to the next customer, intent on fulfilling this fantasy of reading at a bar.

I was barely two pages in when the energy crackled. Hairs on my forearms stood up, and I set down my book, looking around. The restaurant was raucous and busy, but despite all the moving bodies and loud chatter, something snagged my attention from across the room.

Dark chestnut hair, long enough to run your fingers through. Broad shoulders, almost like boulders, stretching a dark coat to its limits. His brown eyes surveyed the restaurant methodically until they landed on me. Warmth spread through me.

Troy.

A smile curled his lips. I lifted my hand, unsure if I was imagining him. The only thing that kept me from acting as though this was a hallucination was the fact that Mercedes had told me I’d be surprised.

This was beyond surprise.

This was a dream come true.

“Troy?” I couldn’t contain the shocked laughter that cascaded out of me as he crossed the space between us in powerful steps. When he reached my side, he towered over me. I held out my arms for a hug.

“Maddie. Good to see you.” His deep voice at my ear was like a salve. My eyes fluttered shut as he pulled me into a warm, healing hug that smelled like cedar and man. A satisfied hum escaped me, and I lingered in his embrace for a few moments too long. He made it hard to want to disconnect.

“Oh, gosh. You too,” I said once he finally released me. I wobbled back into my seat at the bar, and he slid into the empty seat next to me. Was this really happening? “What are you doing here?”

His jaw flexed as he faced me at the bar, his jean-clad knees knocking mine. A mischievous grin tugged at his perfect lips. “Just passing through. Thought I’d say hi.”

“You talked to Mercedes about this, didn’t you?” I pushed my paperback away, opting instead for a sip of the wine that had just arrived.

“Maybe.” He tipped his head, that same warmth and familiarity from the Christmas party returning in full force. It was like no time at all had passed. “How you been?”

Three simple words that opened up a flood gate of emotion. I drew a shaky breath, not sure where to begin. “Is it possible to say both ‘I’ve been better’ and ‘This is the best time of my life’?”

“You can say whatever you want to, and I’ll believe it.”

His simple words landed like a hammer. Paired with the mischief curling at his lips and the scent of him infiltrating my senses, I felt like I was falling head first into the abyss. I’d wanted Troy from the second I laid eyes on him, and here he was. Right in front of me.

Where will this lead us?

“I’m not sure you should give me so much power,” I teased Troy, setting my glass of wine back on the bar. “There could be consequences.”

His gaze darkened slightly, and he wet his bottom lip as he leaned imperceptibly closer. “I think I’m ready to handle them.”

I rolled my lips inward, trying to stave off the girlish giggles that threatened to spill out of me. Was this real life? I’d been thinking of this man non-stop for the past three weeks. I toyed with the stem of my wine glass, dragging my gaze up to his. We smiled at each other for a moment, the silence between us comfortable. As though we’d known each other for decades already.

Why has it felt so easy with him from day one?

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