Page 13 of Unguarded

“What station?”

“Green Beret,” I answer, scanning the driveway as a red Lamborghini pulls in.

“Shit. Respect, man,” Brooks says, his voice in awe.

I nod toward the sports car. “Who’s this?”

“That’s her boyfriend, Zade Byron. The 007 guy.”

A black SUV pulls up behind the sports car. I shift my weight back to face the front door. The new security system prevents us from entering until the start of our shift without tripping the alarm. The bodyguard on duty will be off in the next two minutes, and the system will generate a new security code.

Monroe started sleeping at home again two nights ago. It would’ve been my choice for her to stay at a hotel until the tour, but she claimed she wanted some time at home before traveling for half of the year.

“His security team is good, so with four of us, it shouldn’t be too rough, but when they go out together, the fans go even more wild. We’ve had a few instances of photographers really getting aggressive about getting that perfect shot. Zade likes letting them get a good one in, which can cause a problem if he starts signing autographs. The crowd grows like wildfire once they quit moving.”

I give a curt nod, thankful for the heads-up. Sounds like it’s going to be a long night.

The front door finally opens. The bodyguardgetting off duty acknowledges us with a nod before walking toward the side of the house, where his car is parked.

We both take a step toward the door, but then more people start pouring out in a cloud of perfume and hair spray. They’re chatting about their upcoming night and ignoring us. The suitcases they’re dragging behind them are spilling over with black cords and shimmery fabric as they head to their vehicles. The stylist team will be on tour with us, I was told.

I glance at the sports car again, wondering if he intends to greet her at the door.

Next comes Ember with her violet-red hair.

She smiles at us, offering a little wave before also heading toward the side parking area of the house. “Good night, gentlemen. Have fun. This is only the beginning of the madness!”

Brooks’s gaze follows her for a few seconds before he turns back to face the front door.

Finally, Monroe exits the house. My muscles tense up for a moment at the sight of her. Her makeup is flawless, and her deep red lips curve into a practiced smile. She’s wearing a shimmery gold dress that dips down into her cleavage. It’s tiny, clinging to every curve of her body.

Most lingerie would leave more to the imagination.

I flex my jaw, taking a step back to allow her room to pass by. As she comes out, I see that the slit on the side goes all the way up to the top of her hip, revealing the side of her tanned leg and almost her ass. If she moves the wrong way, everything will spill out. She’s the most stunning creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. I can’t look away.

“Gentlemen,” she purrs.

She meets my eyes briefly before letting her gaze roam toward the Lambo. She walks toward it with purpose, her legs exposed and elongated by the six-inch gold heels with red bottoms. Brooks and I stay about five feet behind her. I exhale slowly when I see that the dress is also completely backless.

What the fuck do we even do if someone gets close enough to tear it off of her?

It wouldn’t take much.

I release a deep exhale, steadying myself for the endless night ahead.

Her pale blonde hair is piled up on her head in a mass of curls, mysteriously looking fuller and thicker than ever. She clutches a tiny red purse in her hand, along with her phone.

Her jackass of a boyfriend finally gets out of the car. “Well, hot damn. I knew you had to be taking forever for a reason. At least warn me the next time a goddess is joining me for dinner.”

He comes around his car, pulls out his phone, and holds it up to take a photo of her in front of it. She does a little twirl for him. He grins, snapping photos and videos before pocketing the phone and returning to the driver’s side.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes as he neglects to open the door for her. Right before she reaches his car, I step in front of her to grab the handle, tugging on it until I feel the mechanism release, and open it the rest of the way toward the sky.

She peers up at me, her eyes an unreadable mask. “Thanks,” she murmurs.

She climbs into the low-bodied car. My gaze rises to meet Zade’s hard stare.

“New guy?” he asks.

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