Page 76 of The Bodyguard Situation

My throat tightens, tears prickling behind my eyes. I squeeze his hand, trying to pour every ounce of comfort and reassurance into that simple touch. “Losing people isn’t something you caused. None of it was your fault.”

When I meet his eyes again, I see years of hidden grief reflecting back at me. How did I miss this?

I reach up with my free hand, cupping his cheek. His eyes flutter closed at the touch, leaning slightly into my palm, as if craving contact but still afraid to fully embrace it.

“I’m here,” I whisper, brushing my thumb over his cheek. “You don’t have to go through this alone. Not anymore. Not ever again.”

His eyes open, meeting mine, and I’ve never seen him in this light before. His gaze traces over my face, searching, as if committing every detail to memory.

“You’ve always been able to see straight through me, Harp. Even when we were younger. It always scared me, but right now, I’m more grateful for it than ever. To be seen is the greatest gift a person can give to another.”

“You see me too,” I whisper, leaning forward, our foreheads touching. “Whatever ghosts you’re facing, we’ll greet them together, okay?”

Brody exhales, tension visibly leaving his shoulders.

For the first time, he lets go, allowing me into the guarded space he’s always kept closed. I breathe against him, realizing that he’s not just healing me while we’re here, but maybe I’m healing him too.

He breathes out, “Coffee’s getting cold.”

I stand, grab my mug, and tug him into the living room, leaving the emotions behind us. The rain is steady against the windows, creating a comforting rhythm that mirrors my heartbeat.

Brody moves toward the fireplace, arranging logs before striking a match. Fire engulfs the dry wood, and warm, golden firelight spills across the cabin walls, flickering and washing away the shadows in his expression.

I curl up on one end of the couch, tucking my legs beneath me, and watch him, noting the care and patience in his every movement. Even the smallest gesture seems full of intention, every touch deliberate.

He finally settles on the opposite end of the couch, leaning back against the cushions and stretching out his long legs. He’s thoughtful, staring into the fire. I watch him closer, no longer shy about studying the subtle shifts in his features.

“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice hesitant.

He glances over at me, his eyes softening as they meet mine. “Yeah, I think I am,” he says, lips curving upward.

He watches me closely for a long moment, and my heart flutters. The silence between us is filled with unspoken meaning—an acceptance of everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve shared, and how we’ll make it through to the other side together. The warmth in his eyes sends a flutter of butterflies through me.

“Harper,” he says, as though my name holds a thousand unspoken promises, “thank you.”

A faint smile touches my lips.

“Thank you for today. For being here. For not letting me run away from myself, even when I want to.”

“I’m not going anywhere. How does it feel to be stuck with Little Miss Disaster?”

He laughs, and the sound lights a fire within me. “Perfect,” he whispers, holding my gaze. “Because I don’t think I could survive letting you go.”

The honesty in his words steals my breath, leaves my pulse racing, yet somehow calms me, all at once.

I nod, my throat tightening with emotion as a few tears spill down my cheeks. “Me neither.”

“Come here,” he whispers.

I scoot toward him, and he wraps his strong arms around me, holding me tight against him, as if I’ll disappear. My fingers grasp his T-shirt as I inhale his skin, not wanting to let him go.

We fall into comfortable silence, snuggled together as the fire crackles. The rain sprinkles against the cabin windows and leaves long streaks.

Today, we’ve found one another, and everything is right in the world.

20

BRODY

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