Page 7 of Unguarded

She folds her arms across her chest. “May I have a word with you, Mr. Redford?”

She offers a sweet smile, but doesn’t wait for me to respond before pivoting. I’ve thought about those bright blue eyes in the last year more times than I’d ever admit.

She’s wearing a sky-blue button-down shirt, tucked into light-wash denim, which is a flawless, tailored fit around her curves. The fringed white booties she has on kick up a tiny cloud of dust into the breeze as she sashays toward the main house. Two men in black shirts and pants follow her from about ten feet away, both wearing sunglasses. A small woman with violet-red hair and flowy linen pants also trails after Monroe. A black SUV idles in the driveway, the driver seated behind the wheel.

I climb over the fence, hopping to the ground as Holden steps closer to my right.

“Is that the girl whose life you saved at the?—”

“Yep,” I cut him off, expelling a breath.

Does she really think she can just march in here and demand my services?

“Good luck, brother,” he calls, returning to the work at hand with a smirk on his face.

I make my way over to the house, seeing Rosie’s shocked features when she opens the front door a few moments after Monroe knocks on it.

“Well, uh, hello! Come in,” she says, ushering her inside, along with her security detail and the other lady.

“Fuck,” I curse under my breath.

All the women in this house are too nice. I reach the door, entering before she has time to shut it after the last black-clad security agent. I stomp the dirt off of my worn work boots onto the rug before walking toward the kitchen, where she led the world-famous country singer.

“Oh my! Holy shit,” Dolly exhales, eyes widening as she stares at Monroe.

“Hello! I’m so sorry for the unexpected intrusion. I just came to speak to Cash Redford about his potential employment as my bodyguard for my upcoming tour,” Monroe rushes to explain, smiling sweetly at Dolly and Rosie.

She remains standing a few steps inside the doorway of the kitchen, hands hanging by her sides. Her security flanks her on either side.

Dolly’s and Rosie’s eyes are wide, mouths slightly ajar, wearing twin expressions of shock and confusion. They both shift their gazes to meet mine after Monroe ends her explanation. I grit my teeth, irritation swirling beneath my skin. I fold my arms, remaining a few steps behind Monroe.

“I hate to say you wasted a trip, ma’am, but I’ve no interest in becoming a bodyguard.” I step toward her, but the men in black move between me and her, blocking my way.

A surge of annoyance rises inside me at their reaction. Monroe doesn’t call them off. She clasps her hands in front of herself, studying me.

“I understand you have rejected the formal proposition for the job offer that came from Sun Records. I came here to personally make you another offer—triple the previous amount. I know, at heart, you are a rancher and apparently a bull rider as well, but I’m simply hoping that if I explain to you how monumental it was for me when you saved my life and …” She stops, shutting her eyes and inhaling a deep breath, seeming to steady herself. She opens her eyes again, quickly recovering. “I have lived in fear for my life, my safety, since I was a teen. I’ve had stalkers, obsessive fans, people who are willing to do anything to get close to me for most of my life. When you saved me at the Sundance Pavilion … it meant a lot, more than you could ever know.”

She gulps, a flash of vulnerability in her gaze. A stillness comes over me. I haven’t thought much about how what happened last year would have affected her in the long run. It was a gut reaction to come to her rescue.

My sister and soon-to-be sister-in-law both sigh in unison, leaning into each other as they gaze at Monroe in awe.

“I can’t imagine what that’s like! You must be terrified every single day,” Dolly gushes, moving toward Monroe. “Would you like something to drink? I have water, wine, whiskey, Diet Coke.”

Monroe’s soft gaze moves from mine to my sister’s. “I would love a Diet Coke. Thank you so much.”

Dolly rushes to fetch the drink from the hall pantry, where we have a spare fridge for beverages. Rosie shuffles her feet, eyes imploring me with some message I can’t decipher.

What? I’m not doing it.

She rolls her eyes at me before shifting her gaze back to the superstar in our kitchen. “So, Monroe, when does your tour begin?”

Monroe perks up. “I will leave for Korea in two weeks, if I can secure the security needed for the trip.”

Rosie nods enthusiastically as Dolly returns with the can of Diet Coke. She fills a glass with ice from the fridge dispenser before popping the can and pouring it into the glass. We watch the fizz slowly dissipate in complete silence.

Monroe accepts the glass graciously, murmuring, “Thank you,” before taking a sip.

“So, what happens if you can’t get the security team you need?” Dolly asks.

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