Page 78 of Undeniable

I laughed. “No. But I do love going to the theater. And if I lived in New York, I’d go as often as I could.”

“Do you ever visit?” he asked.

“Not really. I typically try to catch my mom’s opening performance, but that’s about it.”

“I just figured with it being a publishing hub and all…” He trailed off.

“My job is here. Igloo is based in LA. They don’t have a New York office. That was part of what attracted me to them. I didn’t want to work at a satellite office. And I didn’t want to move to New York.”

“Why not?”

“It just never really appealed to me. I hate the cold. And my dad is here.”

He started massaging my other forearm. My hand.

“What about you?” I asked. “Do you ever come to LA?” Hudson had an office here.

“It’s rare.”

He shifted beside me and grunted. I turned to look at him. “You okay?”

“My knee’s just a little stiff. I tried to do a longer run for the first time the other day.”

I rolled to my side to face him. “Crap. I totally forgot about your knee. I’m so sorry.”

He continued to stare at the ceiling, but a smile played at his lips. “I’m not.”

“Still—” I dipped my hand beneath his robe, smoothing my hand over his chest, tracing his insane muscles. “We should take it easy. I’d hate to be the cause of any further damage.”

He chuckled, though it lacked mirth. “Thanks, but it might not matter anyway.”

I frowned. “What does that mean?”

He grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers together, holding it over his heart. “I might be on desk duty permanently.”

Though it would be a relief in some aspects, I knew Connor would hate not being in the field. For him, executive protection was more than just a job. It was a lifestyle.

“What? Why? You graduated from physical therapy. And I thought you said your knee was healing nicely.” I frowned, trying to make sense of it.

“I did. And it is, but…” He tucked his arm behind his head and stared at the ceiling, but I could see his struggle. See him warring with himself. “I can’t really talk about it.”

“Oh.” I glanced away. “Right.”

I knew that many aspects of his job were confidential. But it felt like more than that. It felt as if he was shutting me out. And it stung, especially when all I’d done was let him in.

“Olivia,” he said, tilting my head to meet his gaze. “Even if I could tell you, I wouldn’t. There are parts of my job that aren’t very…well, glamorous. But they’re necessary.”

“So?” I asked, trying to understand.

“So—” He kissed me gently. “I would never want to burden you with the knowledge.”

“It wouldn’t be a burden,” I said, and I meant it.

His jaw set in a line. “It’s not up for discussion.”

“Connor,” I said. “You know you can tell me anything. I’m not going to judge you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He scoffed and mumbled something that sounded like, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

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