Page 11 of Single Mom's Bodyguards
Sean has always read me like a book, and before I can get a word in edgewise, he quietly says, “She’s in trouble.”
Like that settles everything.
“I know.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
I don’t answer right away.
Huck’s the one who says it. “You think we can’t protect her?”
“No.” I pace behind my usual chair. “Iknowwe can protect her. That’s not the issue.”
Sean narrows his eyes. “Then what is?”
I stop pacing. “Let’s be straight about this. We all had a thing for her.”
Sean doesn’t blink. Huck doesn’t flinch.
I keep going anyway. “We made a pact, remember? We agreed. No moves. No messing around. We wanted her too much, and none of us were willing to burn our friendship to the ground over her.”
Sean crosses his arms. “That was years ago.”
“And she’s stillBailey.”
“She’s not just some girl we crushed on,” Huck says quietly. “She’s someone who needs help. That’s what we do.”
That’s the problem.
Bailey is not some abstract fantasy. She was here. Vulnerable. Brave. She’s got kids now. Bruises we can’t see. A fear she’s gotten too good at hiding. And she came tous.Not some Hollywood security firm. Not her agent.Us.
I run a hand over my topknot and let out a slow breath. “I’m not saying we say no.”
Sean smirks. “Sounds like that’s exactly what you’re saying.”
“I’m saying wethinkbefore we send the offer. Tell her that we need to check schedules. Pull availability. Figure out who’s going to take point and whether we can actually give her what she needs without?—”
“We can,” Sean says.
I shoot him a look. “So you’re just going to jump into this?”
He holds my gaze. “She’s in danger. You want to sit on it for a week while we talk feelings?”
Huck shrugs. “She didn’t flinch when she said she needed us.”
“And we all flinched,” I mutter. “Just internally.”
No one says anything. They know I’m right. But it doesn’t matter in the long run. It’s Bailey. I’ve never been able to say no to her before. I’m not going to start now when she needs us the most. They know that too.
Finally, I sigh and grab my tablet. “Fine. We’ll make it work. But I’m not pretending this isn’t complicated.”
Sean claps a hand on my shoulder. “It was always complicated.”
Huck murmurs, “It’s Bailey.”
And that, apparently, is enough.
Bailey Beausoleil was the kind of girl your parents warned you about. Not because she was cruel, or wild, or mean—though she could be sharp when she wanted. No, it was because shesawthings. She saw you.
