Page 23 of The Brat and the Bodyguard

“I’ll put in a good word for you with my agency, although I wouldn’t recommend going with Joseph, seeing that he’s giving me hell. But yes, I’m taking off,” she says in a firm voice. “It’s a family wedding and I need to be there.”

“Of course,” I say in a sympathetic voice. “Geez, to think your agent would get so mad over something like that! But who’s getting married?”

“It’s my little stepsister,” Kristie replies. “I’ll be seeing her, my stepdad, and my stepbrother again.”

“Okay, cool,” I say. “But you see them regularly, right? At least over the holidays? Didn’t they come to one of your shows? I feel like I’ve met your stepbrother before.”

“Oh no, no,” Kristie says quickly, her cheeks blushing. “No one’s ever come. In fact, I haven’t seen them for two years because after my mom passed, I lost contact with my stepfamily.”

I stare at her quizzically.

“But they want you to attend your stepsister’s wedding?”

Kristie blushes.

“Yeah, and I can’t say no. Milly is my baby sister, and she’s begging me to attend, so I said yes,” she exclaims while throwing her hands up in the air. “I guess I’ll be the maid of honor if she insists.”

I nod slowly. Something here isn’t adding up, and I shoot her a curious look.

“So remember the man I saw you talking to at the Ultramarine show last year? Thatwasn’tyour stepbrother? Or your stepdad?”

To Kristie’s credit, she knows exactly who I’m referring to.

“No, no!” she squeals in a rather too high-pitched voice. “That was just a random guy that I met who’s in the industry. I think he was a model scout and was speaking to me about switching agencies, but you know what? I lost his card immediately afterwards, and we never linked up.”

I know something’s not right because that man was gorgeous, and Kristie was all smiles while chatting with him. Her golden hair streamed down her back, and she was positively glowing. I know something weird is going on, but I’m not sure what it is. But I don’t want to push more because it’d be rude. Kristie obviously doesn’t want to talk about it, although any mention of her stepfamily seems to make her jumpy.

“Okay, just asking,” I say with a wan smile. Then I glance at my cinnamon roll. “Oh man, I didn’t eat any of this because it’s huge and I’m not hungry. Do you want it?”

Kristie shakes her head.

“No, because I devoured mine and it was probably a thousand calories, minimum. But don’t you love being curvy, Ains? People pay us to be the way we are, which is feminine and sexy, whereas other models have to starve themselves to fit into sample sizes. I feel bad for them,” she says with a shudder.

“I know, especially now that Ozempic’s on the market. I bet they force the girls to take that if they even so much as put on two pounds,” I say. “But okay, I’m going to pack this up and go home. Are you ready to roll?”

“You know it,” Kristie smiles sunnily. “Ready when you are!”

Then, I signal to the counter person for a takeaway container before manhandling the pastry into a cute pink box. I’ll bring this home for Karl because I adore the handsome Swede and his caveman ways. I love how he treats me, cherishing my opinions while also ravaging my curves like a hungry wolf. I love how he tosses me around in bed, my hefty curves no match for his powerful six foot six frame. I love everything about Karl ... and it’s breaking my heart to turn down his proposal.

11

Karl

The lock clicks and Ainsley appears in the doorway, her face rather wan and pale.

“How was it, sweetheart?” I growl. “Did you have fun seeing your friend?”

“Yeah, it was good to catch up with Kristie,” she murmurs before setting her bag down and coming over to the couch to sit in my lap. She’s fragrant, sweet, and soft and I bury my hair in those luscious red tresses. I’ll never be able to get enough of this woman, and have every intention of keeping her at my side. Forever, if she’ll have me.

But Ainsley’s emerald eyes fill with tears as her chin wobbles. I stroke her curls back from her face, gazing down at her delicate features.

“What is it, sweetheart?” I murmur. “What’s bothering you? Tell me.”

Her face collapses then, growing pink as tears pour down her cheeks.

“I c-can’t marry you, Karl!” she sobs. “I just can’t do it! You deserve better than someone like me. I’m in the middle of this Nazi mess, and you don’t need this! You deserve someone who’s pristine and perfect, like a clean slate, ready to have your babies.”

I hold her sobbing form tight to my broad chest.

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