Page 42 of The Bodyguard

Angela had only thought this long day had ended, but when she heard the knock on her door, she knew Sawyer would be standing on the other side. It didn’t take him long to knock a second time. Angela touched the mud mask caked on her cheeks. It had already hardened. Sawyer’s knocking would wake half the floor if she made him wait for her to wash it off.

She grabbed the silk robe off her bed, secured the sash around her waist, and peered through the peephole. Fully dressed, he had donned a shirt since the last time she’d seen him, but that didn’t make him look any happier.

“What do you want?” she called without letting him in, though since the mud mask had dried her face in place, her question sounded more likehut-da-oo-wunt.

He scowled toward the peephole. “We’ve gotta talk shop.”

Wanting to talk shop was a slight change in his attitude. She cracked the door and peered out, her greenish face hidden in the shadows of her dark entryway.

“If we’re doing this”—he stepped close as though she were about to open the door—“you have to know how to fire a gun.”

She would’ve made a face if she could have. “I can fire a gun.”

His brow furrowed. “What?”

Angela sighed and then let him in. “Come in.”

“What?” He strode inside and followed her down the short hallway to her sitting area. “Why do you sound drunk?”

After the day she’d had, who would blame her for having a glass or two of wine? Angela turned on her heel and smiled. The face mask cracked on her cheeks.

Sawyer jumped then caught himself. “What’s the matter with your face?”

“I wasn’t expecting company.” Now that she’d cracked the mask, Angela didn’t sound like cotton balls were shoved in her mouth. At least, not as much as before.

“I guess not.”

She waved for him to have a seat. “Give me a minute.”

“That looks like it will take an hour with a jackhammer.”

Sometimes, the aloof way the guys on Titan’s team acted made her wonder if they’d ever spent time with women outside their office walls. Obviously, the married ones had, and she understood that Sawyer had dated. Maybe they’d never reached the level of face-mask seriousness.

Had Paul ever seen her in a face mask? Had he ever done anything with her that wasn’t to facilitate his now-apparent end goal? Probably not…

The television turned on as Sawyer made himself comfortable. She had no doubt that tonight he was there for business; tonight would include no long, swaying hugs by the window. He wanted to talk shop. She would talk shop. Operations were a whole new ball game. Hence Sawyer’s gun-shooting concerns. She decided to rush through the mask removal process.

Face scrubbed clean, she returned to the living room. A soccer game was on the television, but it didn’t hold his attention. He was studying his phone when she padded back in. “Who’s playing?”

He tossed the phone and turned off the game. “No idea.”

Oh, man. Sawyer’s stress level was palpable. “I’ve fired a gun before.”

His eyebrows rose. “Like a water gun?”

“Oh, don’t be an ass.”

Quiet laughter rumbled in his chest. Maybe he wasn’t as tense as she thought. “Earlier tonight,” he said. “I realized there’s a lot I don’t know about you.”

Angela had just been thinking the same thing. “You know me better than I know you.” She held up a finger. “You know where I work. How awesome I am at my job.”

Sawyer laughed again, this time a little louder.

“You know my family,” she continued, “my ex, the major trauma that I’ve survived, the greatest hits of my most embarrassing life moments.” This time, she raised an eyebrow. “Pretty major stuff.”

“True,” he agreed. “Yet, I don’t know if your weapons experience is more backyard games or tactical preparation.”

“Tactical preparation? Yeah, no, not that.”

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