Keeping Guard

by Sandra Owens

  “A little, but I’m okay.”

  “I have questions,” Noah’s friend said.

  She’d forgotten he was there.

  “You can go now, Whiskey,” Noah said, not taking his gaze from her.

  “Negative. Who’s DG?”

  Peyton giggled. “Dumb Groom. That’s what Noah calls him.”

  “After seeing the way he treated you, I’d call him worse than that. Were you really a runaway bride?”

  “Yep. And I think it was the smartest thing I’ve—”

  Noah put his finger over her lips. “Go away, Jack.”

  “On one condition. The two of you come to dinner tomorrow night.”

  “No,” Noah said.

  “Okay,” she said at the same time.

  “Good. Nichole will want to meet you.”

  Noah groaned. “What? You going to adopt her, too?”

  She scowled. “You don’t think I’m adoptable?”

  He scowled right back at her. “Did I say that, princess?”

  “No, but it sounded like you implied it.” She didn’t know why it was fun to rile him up. Maybe because when he was sparring with her, that haunted look in his eyes dimmed.

  “I never imply. When I have something to say, I’ll say it.”

  “Well bless your heart, sugar.”

  His friend chuckled, but she kept her gaze on Noah.

  Noah’s eyes narrowed. “For?”

  Jack outright laughed. “He’s from Maine, Peyton, so that went right over his head. Valuable intel, Double D. When a Southerner blesses your heart, chances are that they’re insulting you without straight-out calling you a jackass.”

  “That so?” Noah said. “I might be a jackass, but you’re damn sassy.”

  “Humph.” Oh, yeah. There was that sign of life in his eyes she wanted to see. And why did Jack call him Double D?

  “Humph? What the hell does that mean?”

  Another chuckle had her glancing at Jack, who was watching them with a grin on his face. He handed Noah the end of Lucky’s leash. “I’ll leave y’all to battle this out. Come over around five and we’ll have a few drinks before dinner.”

  “Maybe,” Noah said.

  “We’ll be there,” she said.

  Chapter Ten

  This woman! Noah swiped his hand through his hair. “Sassy and bossy.”

  “Well, aren’t you just precious?”

  “You’re insulting me again, aren’t you?”

  “A little.”

  Humor flashed in those pretty blue eyes, and he ordered himself not to grin. What was it about her that made him feel alive inside? His urge to grin faded when his gaze fell on her arm again. He pulled his phone from his pocket.

  “Hold your arm out.”

  “Why?”

  He sighed. “Just do it.” The bruise was already turning a deep purple. He took several pictures, then dropped his phone back into his pocket. “If you show these photos to the police, they’ll arrest your ex for domestic abuse.”

  “I just want him to go away.”

  “Not sure that’s going to happen, princess.”

  She shrugged, then bent over when Lucky nudged her leg with his nose. “I missed you, sweet boy.”

  Noah wondered if she’d missed him a little. She laughed when Lucky tried to lick her face, and as they loved on each other, an unfamiliar longing grew inside him. He didn’t want it, this feeling she stirred up inside him. So what if he was jealous of his...not his. If he was jealous of a damn dog.

  “Why does Jack call you Double D? If that’s your bra size, I’m impressed.”

  “Funny. It’s what my team calls me because I always have a pair of dice in my pocket.”

  “They must mean something to you,” she said, her attention still on the dog.

  “Just a reminder of what not to be.”

  “Yeah, how so?”

  She was a sneaky one, tricking him into telling her more than he’d ever told any of his SEAL brothers. His teammates didn’t know that his mother had been killed by his father. He never talked about the old man or the reason for the dice, had never told a soul why his fingers sought the dice when he was tempted to act in any way like that bastard.

  “Noah?” she said, looking up at him when he didn’t answer her question.

  “It’s probably best if I go.” Before he laid his pitiful life story out for her.

  “You told me at the waterfall that your father killed your mother. Do the dice have anything to do with that?” she said, her attention back on the dog. “I think they do if they’re a reminder of what you don’t want to be...or maybe who you don’t want to be.”

  How the hell had she connected the dots? To keep from kissing her again to shut her up, he walked to the window and stared down at the people walking by. Exactly what was he about here?

  “Noah?”

  That soft voice wrapped around him, offering...what? He didn’t have a clue. There was only one thing he’d like to have from her, and that was to get lost in her body for an hour or two. Then he’d leave and never return. But she wasn’t a woman a man could walk away from. She was a woman a man would want to wake up with in the mornings, go to bed with every night, to make a life with. That made her dangerous.

  He’d see to her broken door, and then he’d leave and never come back. But was she safe? Her ex wouldn’t come back today, but what about tomorrow? He turned toward her. “You should tell your father about the stunt your ex pulled today.”

  She unclipped Lucky’s leash from his collar, then stood, walked to the kitchen, and filled a bowl of water for the dog. Noah stuffed his hand into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around the dice. The ingrained protective side of him didn’t want to walk out that broken door, leaving her defenseless. He was messed up, though, and had no business adding her troubles to his.

  “Are you ignoring me?”

  “No.” She left Lucky in the kitchen lapping up the water. Stopping a few feet in front of him, she said, “Will you be my person?”

  He blinked. What in the world did she mean?

  “That sounded better in my head than hearing me say it.” She blew out a breath. “I was out interviewing all morning, and my feet are killing me in these shoes. I’m going to go change, and then I’ll explain, okay?”

  “It’s your show, princess.” It was a shame she was losing the shoes. He allowed himself a few seconds to imagine her wearing nothing but those heels while her legs were wrapped around him.

  “Enough of that,” he muttered. While she was changing, he studied the door. The lock was broken, and the wood around it splintered. It really needed to be replaced.

  He called Jack. “Hey, you know anyone who can make an emergency visit to replace Peyton’s door today?” He could do it, except that would mean a trip to Home Depot or wherever, but he wasn’t going to leave her alone with a broken door.

  “Actually, I do. I meant to call him before I left but got sidetracked by the entertainment.”

  “Entertainment?”

  “Yup. Watching you and Peyton was like being at a comedy show.”

  Since Noah couldn’t deny that, he kept silent. The woman was amusing.

  “So, what’s the deal with you two?”

  “There is no deal.” Because he wouldn’t allow it.

  “Uh-huh. Not sure this is a good time for you to get involved with someone.”

  “Not having this conversation.” Next, Jack would want them to have a slumber party and paint each other’s toenails while sharing their love life.

  “When you’re ready to have it, let me know. In the meantime, I’ll have Dell call you about the door. Have measurements ready to give him.”

  “Copy that.” He disconnected before Jack decided to continue his Dr. Phil impersonation.

 
Peyton walked back in, and damn. He was going to spend his sleepless night debating which was hotter: Peyton in nothing but those sexy heels, or a barefoot Peyton with cherry red toenails and legs that went on forever. She’d changed into white shorts and a sleeveless blue silky-looking top that perfectly matched her eyes.

  Want her. Want her right now, the million-year-old caveman ancestor embedded in his brain said. At the moment, he wished he was that caveman so he could haul her back to his lair without getting slapped silly.

  “I need your measurements.” It didn’t take more than a nanosecond for his brain to register what he’d said. When had his mouth gotten so stupid?

  She stilled, looked at him, and blinked. “Tell me you didn’t just say that.”

  “Of your door. You need a new one.”

  Her gaze sifted from him to her door and then back to him. The sexiest smile he’d ever seen in his life—and he’d seen his fair share—appeared. “There are a lot of things I need, and I think you can help me out with most of them.”

  That he could. “Do you have a tape measure?” He was proud of himself for asking that question instead of the one he wanted. Like...how would you feel about a few hours of playtime?

  Peyton put her hands on her hips. “Think again, buster. You are not going to measure me.” She knew why he wanted the tape measure, but it was just too much fun messing with him, especially when her reward was that fish-mouth impression he was doing now.

  “You...you...” He huffed a breath.

  She fluttered her eyelids. “Me?”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “Not really.” For him, she could be all kinds of possible. It really was weird that she trusted him, considering she’d only met him yesterday. She’d probably been a fool to let him haul her away from the waterfall, but in her defense, she hadn’t been thinking clearly what with being a runaway bride and all.

  There were things she’d like to get from him, like another tingly kiss, but at the top of her list was his agreement to hang out for a while in her guest bedroom. Dalton had warned her that this wasn’t over. That meant he still planned to marry her regardless of her telling him that wasn’t going to happen.

  Before today, she’d never considered Dalton dangerous, but now she did. Having a SEAL bodyguard seemed like a good idea, but how to get him to agree? What did she have to offer that would get him onboard with her plan? She could brew him the best beers he would ever taste, or—

  He snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Tape measure. You have one?”

  “Yes. You want it?” She hid her grin when he let out an exasperated sigh.

  “Would you please get it?”

  “Only because you said please.” She got the tape measure out of a kitchen drawer. After giving it to him, she returned to the kitchen. Her soup was cold now, so she transferred it to a microwaveable bowl. While he was measuring the door, she gathered the fixings for grilled cheese sandwiches.

  Wasn’t the way to a man’s heart through his stomach? If she fed him, maybe he would be agreeable to hanging around for a few days. His phone rang, and she listened to him give the door measurements to someone and then answer questions about the door and hardware.

  Lucky sat at her feet, watching her every move. She wished she had some dog treats for him. “Can dogs have cheese?” she asked him. He barked what she guessed was a yes. Not sure if cheese would mess up his stomach, she broke off a corner from a slice of sourdough bread instead. “Here you go.” She laughed when he scarfed it up. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you to chew your food?” His only response was to look at her with hope for more in his eyes. “One more piece, then that’s it.”

  By the time Noah finished his call, she had the grilled cheese under the broiler, along with the spring rolls, and the soup heating.

  “Jack’s friend will be here in about an hour with a new door.”

  “That’s great.” She hadn’t mentioned Dalton kicking in her bathroom door. She’d deal with getting that replaced herself. Noah and his friend had done enough already, and she was about to ask Noah for more. “You want one of my amazing beers for dinner or something else?”

  “Dinner?”

  She slid the grilled cheese sandwiches from the oven rack onto a cutting board. “You know, that thing you do with food where you put it in your mouth?” She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at his exasperated expression. If she wasn’t careful, one of these times teasing him, she was going make his eyes cross.

  “I know what dinner is.” He leaned his side against her kitchen island. “Why are you making it for me?”

  “Because I feel like it?”

  He shook his head. “Try again.”

  Drat. He was on to her. “Because I’m hungry, and it wouldn’t be polite to eat in front of you?”

  He shook his head again, only slower this time, which strangely put even more emphasis on his rejection of her excuse. “If you’re answering in the form of a question, then you’re still not giving me the real reason.”

  Oh, he was smart. “Fine. I want to talk to you about something, and I figure you’ll be more open-minded on a full stomach.”

  “Does this have to do with that nonsense about me being your person?”

  “Not nonsense,” she muttered. “Do you want a beer or something else?” She cut the grilled cheese in halves, put them on plates, along with the bowls of soup. There were two spring rolls, and she gave them each one.

  “A beer’s fine.”

  She gave a mental fist pump. He was going to sit down and eat with her. “There are several choices in the fridge. Pick which you want, and one for me.” She’d already set out placemats and silverware on the island, and she carried the plates over.

  “This is really good,” he said after taking the first bite of the grilled cheese.

  “That’s because it’s sourdough bread and has three kinds of cheeses in it, sharp cheddar, Havarti, and goat cheese. That’s nothing. Just you wait until I make you my famous grilled cheese with bacon and tomato.”

  “You’re not going to be making me more dinners.”

  She ignored that comment since she planned to have him around for a few days. “Unfortunately, I didn’t have a tomato on hand tonight, and I didn’t feel like cooking bacon. You wouldn’t think a tomato would be good on grilled cheese, but you’d be wrong. Every person I’ve ever made it for—”

  “Princess?”

  “Hmm?” She never would have thought she’d like a man calling her princess, and although he probably intended for her to take it as an insult, she heard the softness in his voice when he said it. He probably didn’t even realize that.

  “No tomatoes on my grilled cheese.”

  She saluted. “Copy that.” She’d heard him say those two words a few times. And there was a minuscule upturn of his lips before he flattened them back to his trademark scowl. Getting an almost smile out of this man was almost as satisfying as creating a new beer.

  By the time she finished her soup and half her sandwich, she was full. Dropping the other half of her grilled cheese and the spring roll on his plate, she picked up hers. After loading her plate and silverware in the dishwasher, she cleaned up the kitchen while covertly watching Noah finish his dinner. He seemed to really enjoy it, and that made her happy.

  Dalton would have turned up his nose at such a simple meal. Her ex never talked much about his childhood, but from the few things he’d let slip, she knew he grew up poor. The one time she’d made him the sandwich, he’d refused it, saying he’d eaten a lifetime’s share of the damn things.

  Noah picked up his empty plate and bowl and brought them to the sink. “Thanks. That was good.”

  “You’re going to like it even better when I make it for you with bacon and tomato.”

  His gaze landed on her, and he narrowed his eyes. “No. Tomato.” />
  At least he wasn’t still saying she wouldn’t be cooking for him. She picked up her half-full bottle, noting that he still had some left in his. “Let’s finish these in the living room.” It was time to convince him to agree to her plan, and she was nervous.

  She sat on the sofa, tucking her legs under her. He walked to the window and looked out. Since she could appreciate his fine body without him noticing, she took advantage. He wasn’t as big as his friend Jack, not quite as muscled, but he was perfectly formed. His dark blue T-shirt stretched over broad shoulders, his hips were lean, and his legs long.

  All that was as sexy as all get-out, but it was his forearms that snagged her attention. She didn’t know what it was about men’s forearms, but they did it for her, and Noah’s were perfect. She wanted to trail her hands over them, to feel the strength of those muscles. Even better, she’d love to have them wrapped around her.

  “You ready to tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

  He thought she was pretty? A thrill gushed through her, and she couldn’t help her grin. Maybe his thinking that would help get his agreement to her plan, but she refused to talk to his back. “I will when you turn around.”

  A soft sigh escaped him as he faced her. A questioning brow went up, but he kept quiet. He could be quite intimidating when he wanted. Like now with his lips pressed together and his eyes already hardening, as if he was preparing to say no to whatever was about to come out of her mouth.

  She almost chickened out under his relentless stare, but she had to at least try. Although her goal was to have him act as a bodyguard for a few days, she couldn’t deny that she wanted more time with him. And just maybe, he would kiss her again.

  “Okay, here’s the thing.” She wished she wasn’t so nervous, afraid he was going to give her a big fat no. “I think Dalton’s lost his ever-loving mind. He’s decided I’m going to marry him whether I want to or not. And believe me, I don’t. He said we were going to Vegas. I got away from him and locked myself in the bathroom. He kicked the door in, and—”