Page 64 of The Bodyguard Situation

I chuckle, embarrassment mingling with amusement. “Hey, I can’t help it.” I arch a brow at her. “You’ve been rubbing against me for hours.”

Harper’s mouth drops open, and laughter lights her eyes. “I have not!”

I grin slowly, tilting my head in challenge. “You absolutely have. You’re lucky I’m such a gentleman.”

Her eyes narrow playfully, her cheeks coloring deeper. “Oh, really? A gentleman?”

“Always.” I lean a fraction closer, removing some space between us. “Even when provoked by certain stubborn women who snore and sleep half naked.”

Her mouth falls open in mock outrage. “I do not snore. You keep saying that?—”

“It’s cute,” I tease, enjoying her flustered expression. “I’m all about honesty, babe.”

She huffs out a soft, incredulous laugh. “I think you’re confusing honesty with fantasy, Calloway.”

“Hmm,” I say, allowing my gaze to linger on her lips. “If you say so.”

Her breath catches, humor fading as the charged silence stretches on. The laughter from moments ago gives way to something deeper, something neither of us has been ready to name yet. But we both feel it wrapping around us in the morning sunlight.

“Asher and Nick know we’re here and are flying in for a quick visit. We have some very important things to discuss in person.”

“Today?” she says.

“Yes.” Before the moment slips away, I continue, “You’re so fucking pretty right after you wake up.”

“Thanks.” Harper ducks her head shyly, but the smile tugging at her lips reveals she likes my compliments. When she looks back up at me, her gaze is full of something I can’t quite place.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she whispers. “Especially when you’re honest.”

“I’ve got nothing but truths for you.” I say, warmth spreading through my chest as I take in this moment.

She eventually slides out from the sheets and moves across the room. Before leaving, Harper glances back at me with a smirk. “I’m awake, right?”

I smirk. “If we’re dreaming, please don’t wake me up.”

17

HARPER

Ipace restlessly in front of the cabin window, my pulse racing with every distant echo of helicopter blades growing louder. I tug nervously at my sleeve, the knot in my stomach tightening. Nick and Asher will be here at any minute, and despite Brody’s reassurances, I can’t shake the anxious flutter in my chest.

I’m nervous about seeing Asher. I’m so afraid he’s disappointed or mad at me for inviting Micah into his home. The last time I saw him, his eyes were wild, and he was so fucking pissed. I’ve never seen him so enraged.

I stop pacing, pressing my forehead against the cool glass, breathing deeply.

“Harp.” Brody’s calming presence fills the room, steadying me without words.

I glance back at him, standing near the kitchen counter, his eyes locked on to mine.

“It’s going to be okay.”

He moves closer, but he’s careful not to crowd me. His fingers brush mine lightly, offering comfort without pressure.

“Eventually,” I whisper, leaning into his touch. “I just don’t know how to face Asher after everything that’s happened.”

Brody grabs my hand; his thumb strokes my knuckles. He holds my gaze. “Asher’s coming because he cares about you and Billie. He doesn’t blame you. No one does.”

I draw in a shaky breath, trying to absorb his strength, hoping he’s right. Since I escaped Micah, Brody has been my only contact with the outside world. However, I needed solitude, more than anyone knows, while I worked out shit in my head.

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