No one cared that she was holding hands with the gorgeous, dangerous, mysterious Gage Sanders.
“It’s fine,” she said.
“Oh-ho,” he chuckled. “Must not be okay then.” He started to pull his fingers out of hers, but she held onto them tightly.
“It is.”
“I’ve had other girlfriends,” he said bluntly. “And when they said something was fine, it definitely wasn’t.”
“How many other girlfriends?” she asked, sliding her fingers between his and holding on.
He grinned at her. “Several. No one since I moved here permanently, though. Well, there was this one woman.” He shrugged. “But she didn’t live here.”
“Name?”
“Dana O’Shiel.”
“Yeah, I don’t know her.”
He tugged her closer to him as they approached couple coming their way. “I said she didn’t live here.”
“Plus, it’s not like I know everyone on the island. Pretty much only if someone grew up here and stayed, the way I have.” She pointed down the boardwalk. “For example, the band playing tonight is all locals. Some a couple of years older than me or younger than me. I only knew the banjo player.”
“Mm,” he said, reaching for a tumbler of water as a waiter paused. “You want something to drink?”
“Just club soda,” she said, and the waiter pointed to the wet bar that had been set up on the sand. Sheryl glanced around and saw that almost everyone there had dressed up a little bit, and she was so glad she’d found this splashy sundress in the back of her closet.
It left her shoulders a little barer than she normally liked them, but as the sun drifted down, she wasn’t afraid of getting burnt.
Gage led them over to the bar, where he ordered club soda for both of them, his with lime and lemon and orange. His glass looked colorful and vibrant, and Sheryl thought it fit him really well.
She never would’ve imagined the Gage she’d met on her front porch at an event like this, but he fit in seamlessly with that button up shirt undone at the throat and his sandaled feet. They strolled along the boardwalk closer to the band, and she pointed with her glass. “That’s Mat Lindstrom right there, with the banjo.” She grinned at the man she’d been friends with for many years, searching the crowd for his wife.
Sheryl was friends with Lindsey too, and while they had just had their first baby, they still invited Sheryl to dinner sometimes. All of her married friends did, and she cut a look out of the corner of her eye at Gage. Maybe she could start bringing him to lunches and dinners and picnics on the beach. Maybe she could be part of a couple again.
Her heart seized, and Gage looked at her as if he could tell her vital organ had skipped a few beats. “What’s wrong?” He didn’t search the surroundings but kept his gaze right on hers.
“Nothing,” she said. “I was just thinking about my last boyfriend.”
“Oh, that’s not what I want to hear.” He gave her a smile. “I mean, we’re here together. This band is great. The moon is coming up. No man wants to hear the beautiful woman he’s with is thinking about another guy.” He lifted his fruity club soda to his lips, those dark eyes devouring her.
Beautiful woman he’s with.
“So before the disaster that has become Ricky—”
“Wait,” Gage said. “Your last boyfriend was the stalker?”
“No.” She shook her head. “No, I never went out with him. He just asked me a bunch of times.”
Gage nodded and said, “Continue,” as if this were an interrogation.
Annoyance squirreled through her. “I don’t want to tell it now.”
“Oh, come on,” he said, practically rolling his whole head. “What did I do?”
“You just were like, ‘continue,’ like all of your demands would be satisfied before I said another word.”
Gage’s eyes sparkled like dark diamonds, and dang if Sheryl didn’t want to lean closer and see what he found so funny. “Well,” he drawled in that Savannah-accent. “Won’t all my demands be satisfied tonight?” He leaned closer, sending Sheryl’s pulse into a complete tizzy.
“No.” She pushed against his chest, laughing in the next moment. “I don’t even know what your demands are, so they definitely won’t all be satisfied.”
“Mm,” he said again, touching his nose to her cheek for a moment before straightening and backing up. “You can keep telling the story whenever you’re ready.”
“Thank you, your highness.”
He scoffed, but not an ounce of discomfort or unease sat on his face.
Sheryl wasn’t sure how to pick up the story again. “Anyway,” she said. “Before Ricky, I dated this guy named Chuck Millstone. I thought things were going well, but so did his other girlfriend.”
“Ouch,” Gage said without missing a beat. “And Chuck is a stupid name.”
Surprise shot through her, and she burst out laughing. “It is, isn’t it? I mean, no offense to the nice Chuck’s out there.”
The one she’d dated had not been nice. In fact, he’d accused her of trying to change him, and that was why he’d had to go find another girlfriend who “loved him just how he was.”
Gage grinned at her, and time seemed to freeze. The moonlight was romantic. The bluegrass band had started a slow song.
“Do you want to dance?” Gage asked, and there was nothing more exciting to Sheryl in that moment than the idea of dancing with the ex-Marine, bodyguard-slash-boyfriend, sexy man in front of her.
“Sure,” she said at the same time someone else said, “Sheryl?”
She startled, immediately stepping away from Gage who fell a half-step behind her. Her oldest sister stood there, a delicious-looking man on her arm too. “Olympia.” Her eyes flickered to the tall, sandy-haired man at her sister’s side.
“This is Chet,” she said, looking up at him.
“Gage,” she said, and Olympia shook the man’s hand.
“Nice to meet you,” Olympia said, her eyes grinning as if they knew what Sheryl had been thinking about dancing with Gage. “What are you guys doing here?”
“It’s the bonfire,” Sheryl said. “I wanted to get out of the house tonight.” Her sister wasn’t dim, and Sheryl stared at her, hoping to communicate that she should wrap up this conversation so Sheryl could get her dance before the song ended.
Olympia simply smiled at her sister. “It’s great, isn’t it?” She hadn’t been out with anyone in years, and if she was really dating Chet, Sheryl was happy for her. Olympia’s last boyfriend had cheated on her too, but not only that, he’d been married while they were dating.
Married.
She looked at Chet again, and it sure seemed like there were plenty of sparks there.
“I really like the band,” Sheryl said. “Did you know the banjo player is Mat Lindstrom, from high school?”
“Really?” Olympia asked. “I didn’t recognize him.”
Chet leaned closer to her, and she turned her head so he could whisper in her ear. He said something, she nodded, and he walked away. Olympia watched him, interest evident in her eyes, and Sheryl grinned at her sister.
“What’s with you two?” Sheryl asked, leaning closer. “You’ve never said you’re seeing someone new.”
“I’m still trying to figure out what we are.” Olympia glanced at Gage, leaning in and whispering too, though Gage seemed totally engrossed in the band and the crowd around them. A front, Sheryl knew. The man heard and saw everything. Literally everything. “I’m sure you know what I mean.”
Sheryl just blinked. “I have no idea what you mean.” And yet, she found herself inching back into Gage, who put his arm around her, his hand resting easily on her hip.
Olympia looked like a cat who’d just gotten his first canary. “Hmm.”
The song was almost over, and Sheryl was going to miss it. “See you later, O.” She turned into Gage and said, “Let’s dance.”
He obliged, and though they only got thirty seconds, they were thi
rty of the best seconds of Sheryl’s life, dancing in the arms of her…bodyguard.
Chapter Six
Gage adored the feel of this woman in his arms. “I think you’re going to want to kiss me again,” he whispered, but Sheryl just stared at him.
“Why would I want to do that?” she asked, though everything about tonight said she wanted to do that. From the sexy dress she wore, to the way she’d tried to get him away from her mother and grandmother, to the way she’d practically cemented herself to him on that motorcycle.
“Because Ricky’s here, and he’s not alone.”
She tensed in his arms, scanning the crowd now. “Where? I haven’t seen him.”
“I saw him the moment we arrived,” Gage said. And he had. He’d moved them to the wet bar and then into the crowd, hoping Ricky would get the hint and leave. He certainly wasn’t going to make a move in public. Gage knew that. The other man was too much of a coward for that.
“He’s over there with a couple of other guys. They look like they might be brothers.” He nodded toward the side of the party they hadn’t visited yet, and Sheryl had to hold onto his shoulders as she twisted to look behind her.
She sucked in a breath as she faced him again, her eyes filled with worry now. “Don’t look like that, honeybee,” he said. “He can’t touch you while you’re with me.”
She swallowed and nodded, saying, “But I’m not always with you.”
Gage looked down at her, his feelings for her new, sure. But very real. And swelling with every minute they spent together. He couldn’t explain it. On paper, they were not a match. Heck, sometimes in person they were not a match. He barked. She quipped.
The song had ended, but she still stood in his arms, a desperate look on her face. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, not quite what he’d been hoping to accomplish by telling her about Ricky and his bros. Cronies. Whoever they were.
He cast the other man a long look as he put his arm around Sheryl and guided her off the sand and back to the boardwalk. They didn’t speak as they walked away, and because he owned a motorcycle, they didn’t have to wait for a pedicab or to get their car from the valet.
“Where do you want to go?” he asked. “Home?”
“Maybe we could tour your place,” she said, buckling her helmet on. She was adorable in the way her fingers couldn’t see to latch things right, and he once again helped her, feeling the weight of those eyes on his face as he did.
He cast her a quick smile, because he’d gotten the hint that she did not want to kiss him again. Why was it the only thing he could think about?
“My place?” Fear rushed through him. “Oh, sweetheart, I don’t know about that.”
“Why not?”
He met her eye then. “I live on the beach too, but let’s just say it’s not the five-star cottage you have.”
A determined glint entered her eyes. “I want to see it.”
He sighed, the sound lengthening as he pressed the air out of his lungs. “Fine. Let’s go see it.” He swung his leg over the bike and waited for her to hike up her skirt and climb on behind him. He hadn’t ridden with a woman on the back of his motorcycle for far too long, and he sure did like the addition of Sheryl to his life.
It was a quick ride away from the bonfire to his shack on the beach, and thankfully, he’d learned to leave a light on when he left in the afternoons. He’d been staying at Sheryl’s late, and it was dark out on this lane.
“This is cute,” she said as she got off the motorcycle. From inside the house, Britta barked, and Gage left their helmets on the handlebars instead of stowing them away. He had neighbors out here, sure, but no one would bother the bike.
“Cute?” he asked, adding a growl to the word though her assessment of his house didn’t really bother him.
“I mean, it’s dark,” Sheryl said. “But it looks cute.”
“It’s cute enough, I guess.” He went up the few steps to the front door and opened it to receive Britta, who sniffed him like he’d cheated on her by going to the bonfire and dancing with Sheryl. “Back up, Britt,” he said. “Go on.”
The beach house wasn’t anything impressive, but it had all the essential rooms. Living room big enough to hold a couch and a recliner. TV. Curtains on the windows. A kitchen, bathroom, and two bedrooms down the hall. Oh, and the beach out the back door. He loved that the most.
“See?” He glanced around. “Smaller than yours. Dirtier. And nothing good to eat in the fridge.” He chuckled, surprised at how nervous he was to have her there.
Sheryl looked around—but not up at the ceiling—and said, “It’s nice, Gage.”
“I do have ice cream.”
“Sold.” She grinned at him, and he moved over to the freezer to get out the sweet treat.
“We can sit on the back porch and hear the waves.”
“Oh, so you’re much closer to the ocean than I am.”
“Yep.” He grabbed two spoons from the utensil drawer and didn’t bother with bowls. They settled on the steps, the full moon shining on the water and the sand, casting a silver glow over the world.
“It’s beautiful out here,” she said, her voice full of awe.
Gage dug into the mint chocolate chip and said, “Sure is,” before putting the bite into his mouth. But he wasn’t even looking at the moon. Just Sheryl. He swallowed, his taste buds in overdrive now with the ice cream still coating his mouth. “You know, you’re going to have to stop running away every time you see Ricky.”
She flinched and looked at him with accusation in her eyes. “I did not run away. You’re the one who said we should go.”
“You were uncomfortable.”
“How do you know that?”
“Sheryl, I can see everything you’re thinking and feeling, right there in your eyes.” And she was angry now, though he’d spoken as quietly and gently as he could.
She looked away, and Gage kicked himself mentally for bringing it up. “Maybe we should file a restraining order,” he said. “Just as an added layer of protection.”
“I’m not stupid,” she said.
Gage felt her retreat fully from him, and he sighed. “I didn’t say you were stupid.”
“You implied it.”
“How did I possibly do that?”
“You said I should file a restraining order, as if I’d never thought of that.”
“Have you thought of it?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And I researched it,” she said, the volume of her voice lifting into the starry sky. “And he hasn’t done anything that would warrant a restraining order. No judge would give me one.”
Gage simply nodded, wondering how this conversation had gone sideways so fast. She stabbed at the ice cream, and Gage let her. He didn’t want another bite anyway. He let the waves push and pull his thoughts, because speaking to Sheryl always seemed to get him in trouble.
“Grams used to say that on nights like these, you could catch fairies. They liked to come out and dance under the light of the full moon.” Where the words had come from, Gage wasn’t sure.
Several long seconds went by, and finally Sheryl asked, “Did you ever catch one?”
Their eyes met, and the awkwardness broke between them. He chuckled and ducked his head, and she giggled.
“Not even close,” Gage whispered, hoping he hadn’t ruined his chances with the only woman who’d caught his eye in the past couple of years.
The next day, Gage watched the same man ride the ferry back and forth twice before he approached the guy. “Where are you going?” he asked him, folding his arms.
The man glanced up, but his sunglasses obscured his eyes. Gage stared down at him. “You’ve been on the ferry a lot today.”
“Is that a problem?” he asked.
“It is if there’s something unsafe going on.”
“Sit down,” the guy said, glancing around.
Gage hesitated for a moment, and he followed the other man’s gaze.
A woman sat down on the end of the bench. Gage sat down. “Stalking?”
“No,” the man said quickly. “I just know she rides the ferry over to the mainland to work, and I wanted to see if I could talk to her today.”
“And she missed the previous ferry.”
“I guess,” he said.
“Have you ever talked to her?” Gage asked.
The man shook his head, and though the sun shone brightly overhead, Gage thought he’d started to blush. “She lives down the road from me. I’m just…look, I’m not doing anything wrong.”
Considering Gage had been hired to take Sheryl home so the man following her couldn’t do anything funny, he wasn’t sure he agreed. “You talk to her today,” he said. “And stop following her around.”
“I don’t follow her around,” he said. “I work on the mainland too, and I’ve just noticed her on the ferry.”
“All right,” Gage said in a tone that clearly said he didn’t believe the guy. He stood up and went back around the ferry, taking his time. The ferry ride took thirty minutes, and they’d been on the water for ten minutes.
He rounded the back of the ferry, where the dark-haired woman still sat, her e-reader in her hand, all of her attention on it. The man sat down the bench several paces, his focus on his own device.
“Ma’am,” he said. “There’s a leak back here, and I’ve been asked to move everyone up a little bit.”
She glanced up at him, and he pointed down the bench. “Just down there would be fine. I’m going to be setting some stuff up here.” It almost sounded true.
“Sure,” she said. “Thanks for letting me know.” She gathered her purse and bag and got up, stepping down the bench a little bit. The man who’d ridden the ferry just to talk to her glanced up as she sat so much closer to him.
Gage saw the panic on his face, and then it melted into a smile as he reached over and moved his briefcase. He looked up and Gage touched his forehead in a quick salute before turning to go into the engine room to actually get a bucket. He didn’t need that woman knowing he’d helped out the guy semi-following her.
The rest of his shift was fairly uneventful, and he even survived Walker’s few questions about how the bonfire had gone. At one point, Gage had thought the night was ruined. But after his mention of fairies, things had improved, and Sheryl had given him a tight squeeze before she’d slid off his motorcycle and disappeared through the front door of her house.
Bodyguard, Not Boyfriend Page 4
