Page 94 of Things I Read About
“Nate Brenner. Nate. You are Nate. Brenner. You’re thirty years old. You’re in Texas. You’re my bodyguard. Sally Canton. You’re in private security now.”
“You’reokay. You’re okay.”
“Nate,” I say louder, firmer. I hold his eyes with mine. “Nate Brenner. You’re thirty years old. You like audio books and podcasts. You love red meat, dark beer, and your motorcycle. You’re on a ranch outside of Dallas, Texas. You are my bodyguard. You’re about to be a partner in your security firm. You were hired by Emerson Clark, my brother-in-law. I’m Sally Canton. We met in Park City, Utah. We are safe. That noise was the tractor. I am not hurt. I am not in danger.”
He closes his eyes and stops mumbling, so I repeat myself.
Nate grabs me around the back. He clutches me tightly to himself.
I can hardly breathe, but I keep repeating the facts in his ear. I don’t ask him any questions or say anything emotional. I keep my voice level and soft and I feel his breathing slow.
His heart rate comes down. He’s still trembling but it’s not as badly.
Finally, he loosens his hold on me. I pull back and take his face in my hands again. His eyes are closed and he’s focusing on his breathing, I think. That’s good.
I whisper my words this time. “I’m safe. We’re safe. You’re Nate Brenner. I’m Sally Canton. You’re my bodyguard. I’m not hurt.”
I put my forehead on his and close my eyes, and I say everything again. “You’re my bodyguard. You’re…”possibly the one great love of my life.
As if he can sense what I’m not saying, he shifts under me.
I open my eyes in time to see his scared expression turn stony. I pull my forehead away.
“Water,” he croaks.
I untangle myself from him and run to get a bottle from the beverage fridge on the other side of the library. When I return around the corner, he’s standing. I hand him the water, but he doesn’t look in my direction.
“Are you—”
“I’m fine.” He cuts me off, his voice still scratchy. He turns to me. “Look, this hasn’t happened in almost a decade, okay? I’m good, I promise you. I’m not unfit for this.”
“I didn’t—”
“If you tell your brother-in-law, which would be understandable given how this looks, I will lose my job. I will lose the partnership and will likely never work in this type of private security again.”
“Nate, I wouldn’t—”
“Maybe you should,” he spits out. Then he turns to the window, cursing under his breath. I don’t know what to say or do. After a while he speaks again, his voice recovered. “I couldn’t see you on the cameras. You were standing in a blind spot. That’s why I reacted the way I did. It wasn’t just the sound, I can handle an actual war zone. It was just the timing, the fact that you were out of sight, out of reach.”
“You don’t have to explain, Nate.”
He turns away from the windows in order to face me. “I do. I still need you to listen to me, to trust my instructions, my judgment calls. I understand if you can’t but if that’s the case, I need to call it in and transfer. We’re done if we can’t trust each other.”
I look at his furrowed brow and frown as well, confused. “I thought you didn’t trust me?”
He tilts his head at me, glaring. “I trust you with matters of security. I trust you’ll tell me what I need to know to keep you safe. Anything beyond that is none of my business, and I don’t want to know.”
“What if I want you to know?” To know that his arms are my favorite place. To know that his voice stops the spiral in my thoughts. To know that I think about his smile, his eyes, his hands, and kiss, all day long.
“Too bad, kid. I won’t listen. It’s the job, and nothing else. If you want someone else to do that job, I get it, just know that—”
“Seriously, Nate, I don’t want anyone else! I want you.”
He bites down, flexing his jaw. His hands flex open and shut, too.
I look at them, and he sighs, either realizing what he’s unconsciously doing, or mad that I caught the action.
“Maybe you shouldn’t. Clearly my wiring is still faulty, even though this hasn’t happened in so long.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I can’t trust the cameras so much. I know that, but I was trying to give you space.”
