Page 6 of Big Bodyguard
Chapter Three
Charlie
By the time the car rolls to a stop, I’m not sure if I want to scream, laugh, or throw myself out the passenger door and make a run for it.
We’re in the middle of nowhere. Literally. A single cabin tucked beneath pine trees with smoke curling faintly from the chimney. It looks like something out of a rustic postcard—quiet, private, and terrifyingly isolated.
For the hundredth time tonight, I wonder how exactly I ended up here. One minute, I was tasting freedom for the first time in my life, dancing, drinking, and pretending to be someone braver than myself. And the next, I’m…letting myself get swept away by a devastatingly handsome blue-eyed stranger named Jack.
Jack.
I don’t know why the name fits him so well, but it does. Short, sharp, dangerous. Like the man himself.
And God help me, even as every part of me insists I should be scared of him, I can’t ignore the way my body reacts whenever he looks at me. Like I’m standing too close to a fire. Like if I let myself, I’ll burn.
He kills the engine, and for a moment, the silence between us is so heavy I can barely breathe. He climbs out, slamming his door, then circles around to mine.
“Come on,” he says, gesturing for me to get out.
I hesitate, stubborn pride holding me in place. “No.”
“Oh, we’re not doing this again, princess,” he says, his hand curling around my wrist, firm and unyielding. I grab the rest of my Twizzlers as he pulls me out of the car.
He pauses, and in that moment I swear I see a hint of amusement in his beautiful blue eyes, but then he slams the car door shut and starts to pull me toward the front door.
The inside of the cabin is warm and smells of pinewood and smoke. It isn’t much—a sofa near the hearth, a coffee table and a worn-out leather chair by the window.
Jack drops his keys on the counter, glances at me, then jerks his chin toward the hallway. “Bedroom’s yours. I’ll take the couch.”
I blink at him. That’s it? No threats? No yelling? He’s not going to…handcuff me to the bedpost? For some reason, I expected…more.
I shuffle awkwardly on my feet, unsure what to do with myself. The air between us feels thick, charged. Every movement of his body, every word he says, seems to hum beneath my skin like static. I can still feel the ghost of his grip on my wrist, still hear the rough edge of his voice when he called meprincess.
He leans a shoulder against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His dark shirt stretches across muscles in a way that makes my mouth go dry. His hair is ink-black, short on the sides, a little longer on top, like he doesn’t bother tamingit. His jaw is strong, dusted with stubble that makes him look older, rougher, like the kind of man who’s lived a hundred lives I couldn’t even imagine. And those eyes—cold, sharp, and endless blue—pin me in place, like he can see right through me.
God, he’s so beautiful.I’ve never wanted to capture a photograph of a person more than I do at this moment…
“Take a picture,” he says, jerking me out of the haze in my head.
“What?”
“You’re staring—a picture would last longer,” he says with a cocky smirk.
My cheeks flame up in embarrassment and I drop my gaze. “Sorry,” I murmur under my breath.
“You need anything?” he asks casually, like he isn’t aware of the fact that he’s currently melting me alive where I stand.
I shake my head quickly. “No. I’m fine.”
The corner of his mouth twitches, like he doesn’t believe me but isn’t going to argue. He pushes off the frame and turns toward the sofa, leaving me standing there, my pulse hammering in my throat.
God, what’s happening to me? I can’t be attracted to such a dangerous man. Right?
I step inside the bedroom and shut the door softly behind me. It’s small, barely bigger than my walk-in closet back home, but at least it’s private. A bed sits against the wall, neatly made, the quilt tucked in with military precision. I sink down onto the edge, the springs creaking beneath me.
Then the events of the day hit me all at once.
I press my palms into my knees, a laugh bubbling in my throat as I remember the image of my attacker flying across the dance floor. It’s been a wild night. Insane. Completely unpredictable.
