Page 3 of Spring Break with a Bodyguard
Instead of his usual sharp suit that he wears as Preston’s head of security, he’s dressed in the navy-blue uniform of the hotel security staff, complete with a Sandpiper logo embroidered on the breast pocket. From the tight set of his jaw, he’s not happy about the change.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as his gaze travels down my freshly starched uniform. “Did Preston and Brogan assign you as my babysitter?”
“Unfortunately,” he replies, his voice carrying that hint of something—annoyance, certainly, but also resignation—that makes my shoulders tense. “I was pulled from an executive protection detail for this assignment.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say as his gaze sweep over the disaster of the room.
“Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you, Miss Holden,” he says, emphasizing my fake last name with a slight smirk.
I bristle, squaring my shoulders. “I can handle it,” I say. “And I don’t need a babysitter, especially one who clearly doesn’t want to be here.”
He raises an eyebrow, his dark eyes glinting with something that might be amusement beneath the obvious displeasure. “Oh, I’m not here to babysit. I’m here to ensure your safety, as per Mr. Hollister’s orders.” He pauses, looking down at his uniform with barely concealed distaste. “Though when Brogan pulled me off executive protection to babysit—” he corrects himself with exaggerated politeness, “—to provide security for a housekeeper, this isn’t exactly what I pictured for my week.”
“If it makes you feel better, I never asked them to provide me with security,” I say, taking in the way the standard-issue shirt strains across his broad shoulders, far from the tailored suits he usually wears when guarding my cousin.
A muscle in his jaw twitches. “Eight years as a SEAL, and now I’m guarding a hotel corridor. Brogan has an interesting sense of humor.”
I bite back a retort, turning instead to the chaos before me. The task seems even more daunting now, with Javier’s watchful gaze on my back. It’s as if he’s just waiting for me to give up.
“Well,” I say, forcing brightness into my voice, “no time like the present to get started, even with an audience.” I push my cart further into the room and begin gathering empty cans and pizza boxes into a large garbage bag. The smell makes my stomach turn, but I grit my teeth and continue.
“You know,” Javi says after a few minutes of silence, “most people would have quit by now.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” I say as I toss another empty beer can into the trash bag, “but I’m not ‘most people.’ I’m a Hollister, remember? We don’t give up easily.”
TWO
JAVIER “JAVI” CONRAD
When Brogan toldme my new assignment was to keep an eye on his socialite cousin, I thought he was joking. Then I realized my former commanding officer was dead serious.
“You’re pulling me off Preston’s security detail to babysit Teddy?” I’d asked, not bothering to hide my disbelief. “That’s not what I signed up for.”
Brogan had leveled me with the same look he used to give in the field when I questioned an order. “It’s temporary. Three weeks max.”
“Three weeks in hotel security?” I’d groaned, eyeing the standard-issue uniform with distaste. After eight years of Naval Special Warfare and executive protection for one of Love Beach’s most influential businessmen, this felt like a serious demotion.
“Unfortunately, her timing’s terrible,” Brogan had said. “Spring break at our hotels can get rowdy, especially at The Sandpiper. That’s where you come in. I need someone I trust watching her back.”
“As what? Her bodyguard?”
“Not exactly,” he replied. “I’ve added you on as hotel security.”
Great. Just great.
The Hollister chain of five-star hotels spans the world, with its crown jewel right on the Love Beach boardwalk. But The Sandpiper is their budget offering—the favorite haunt of broke college kids on spring break.
Not exactly five-star.
“It’s her idea,” Preston had said during my briefing. “We’re giving her three days before she changes her mind, so the assignment should be quick.”
Quick, my ass.
From the look of grim determination on Teddy’s face on her first day, I doubt she’ll be quitting any time soon. She can hardly push the overloaded laundry cart down the hall, the metal frame groaning in protest as I watch from my position near the stairwell. Her slender arms strain against the weight, a slight grimace crossing her face as she adjusts her grip.
I’ve known of Teddy for eight months now, ever since Brogan convinced me to join Hollister Security. I’ve been in the background during her many visits to Preston’s office, watching her flutter in with some crisis that her cousins inevitably had to clean up.
“Commander Conrad, so serious!” she’d chirped the first time we met, her smile bright but never quite reaching her eyes as Preston lectured her about overcharging hotel expenses. “Do they teach you guys to frown like that in SEAL training, or is it a special talent?”
