Bodyguard, Not Boyfriend

by Elana Johnson

  “That was amazing,” Gage said as they stood at his motorcycle, fastening their helmet straps.

  “They’re great,” Sheryl said.

  “You’re great,” Gage said, swinging his leg over his bike. Sheryl paused, sure she hadn’t heard him right.

  Why wouldn’t you have heard him right? she thought.

  “Thanks,” she said. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  “You think so?” He started the bike in the next moment, and she climbed on behind him, the seat just as hot now as it had been earlier, though the sun had gone down.

  “I do,” she said. “You just have a loud bark sometimes.”

  “I don’t mean to,” he said, turning his head so she could hear him better. “And how big of a hurry are you in to get home?”

  “I’m not the one who just said we needed to leave so he could let his dog out.”

  He chuckled, and Sheryl held onto him, the strength in his back comforting and sexy at the same time. He took them away from her house, winding along until he got to the coastal highway. They’d driven this road together before, but it was different at night.

  More magical. More beautiful. More romantic.

  She adored riding on the back of this motorcycle with this man, and she decided she was going to kiss him before he left that night. Somehow.

  Nerves fluttered in her chest. It had been a long time since she’d kissed a man. Since she’d opened herself up to anyone new, really.

  He took them back to her place, parked in his spot, and they went into the house together. He did step over to the back door to let Britta out while Sheryl picked up the mixing bowl and started washing it.

  “Go on,” she heard him say to the dog, and Britta came back inside, followed by Gage. He swept his arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m going to head out. Early day tomorrow.”

  “Early day every day,” she said, leaning into his touch as a bright light of happiness moved through her.

  “Mm.” He stepped back and walked away, sending her heartbeat crashing around inside her chest like cymbals. He wouldn’t just leave. Would he?

  He would, and he was.

  Sheryl tossed the sponge back in the sink as he said, “Come on, Brit. I’ll go slower than I did this afternoon.”

  “Hey, yeah,” she said, though it was practically a yell. Gage turned back to her, his eyes widening with surprise. “How did you get her here on the bike?”

  He bent down and clipped a leash to his dog’s collar. “She ran. I rode.” He gave her another grin and turned again.

  Sheryl didn’t quite know what to do. She darted around the couch and met him at the door. “Thanks for coming with me tonight.”

  “It was really fun,” he said. “I don’t get out socially, if you know what I mean.”

  Oh, she did.

  Without second guessing or saying anything else, she tipped up onto her toes and said, “I don’t want you to leave without kissing me.”

  Gage searched her face, not a smile in sight. Sheryl wasn’t smiling either, because she was dead serious.

  “Bodyguard with benefits,” he said, lowering his mouth to hers. And wow, Sheryl could barely stand with the taste, the touch, the towering presence of this man.

  Chapter Ten

  Gage could kiss Sheryl forever. This kiss was different than the one he’d laid on her on her doorstep days ago.

  How many days, he wasn’t sure.

  He wasn’t sure of anything in that moment. Only kissing Sheryl mattered. He growled as her fingernails moved up his scalp and into his hair. He turned her so she was pressed into her front door, and he kissed her like he was starving for something only she could provide.

  She matched every stroke of his mouth, and he dropped his lips to her neck. “Gage,” she whispered, only encouraging him.

  He could not get enough of her skin, her perfume, her lips. He kissed her again, slowing down now so he could really take his time, commit this kiss to memory. By the time he pulled away, he felt like his lips would be bruised come morning, and everyone would know what he’d been doing.

  He sighed, the only visceral response his body had for this woman. She was beautiful, and kind, and forgiving, and he liked her far more than he’d thought he was capable of.

  “I should go,” he said, his voice froggy and throaty and hardly his own.

  “Yeah,” she said. But she didn’t move so he could open the front door and go. Their eyes met, and they smiled simultaneously.

  “All right,” she said, stepping sideways and reaching up to smooth her hair where he’d messed it up. “Yeah. Okay. You should go.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, forcing himself to open the door instead of kissing her again. The air outside was still hot, but it was infinitely cooler than the climate inside her beach cottage. He took in a deep breath and slowed Britta as the dog tried to bolt down the steps. He turned back to see Sheryl had grabbed onto the door, as if she couldn’t stand by herself. “Bye.”

  “Bye,” she repeated, a blissful look in her eyes. She brought the door closed, and Gage went down the steps, happier than he’d been in a long, long time.

  “She’s great, right?” he asked Britta as he tied the leash to his handlebars. “Makes you wonder why she likes me.” He glanced back up to the door, but Sheryl hadn’t come out.

  He did have a loud bark sometimes, and sometimes it served him well. It kept him employed, for one. But he could work on being softer with Sheryl if it would earn him another kiss like that one.

  The next day after work, Gage pulled into his driveway to find the front door open. He stared at it as he got off his motorcycle, trying to be as silent as possible. If the door was open, Britta would be gone, as she didn’t need a reason to run toward the rectangle of light.

  He kept his helmet under his arm as he approached the house. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed in nine-one-one, but he didn’t dial it yet. “Hello?” he called as he went up the steps.

  A dog barked in the distance, and it sounded suspiciously like Britta.

  Gage stepped inside and saw a couple of pieces of luggage by the door, and everything came back to him. The Army green duffle bag definitely belonged to his brother, and he’d probably just forgotten to make sure the door had latched behind him.

  Gage hadn’t told him to check on that, and the wind on the beach had a reputation of pulling on unlatched doors and opening them.

  A moment later, Britta barked again, this time jumping up the back steps and galloping into the house. “Oh, hey,” he said, laughing. “There you are. Is Uncle Mike here? Is he? Is he throwing you a ball?”

  He scrubbed the sand out of Britta’s wet beard, not even caring that the floor was getting dirty and slobbery. His brother filled the doorway, and Gage straightened, a smile on his face. “Hey.” He laughed again as he embraced Michael, and it was good to see his brother. Have a human connection.

  “How are you?”

  “I’ve been better,” he said, stepping back, the smile still stuck on his face. Pain lived in his eyes, but he smothered it quickly and looked around the small beach house. “This place is great. Right on the water.”

  “Yeah,” Gage said. “Listen, I didn’t tell you this, but I kind of have another job this afternoon. Every afternoon, actually.”

  “You’re working two jobs?”

  “Whatever it takes to pay the bills,” he said, though he didn’t technically need Sheryl’s money. He liked being busy, and he liked saving money for a rainy day. He wanted to live on his ferry income and the extra jobs he picked up. His Marine pension went into a bank account every month, and he was determined to keep it that way.

  “How’s Mom?” Gage asked, stepping over to the fridge and pulling out a package of deli ham. “And you’re welcome to come with me this afternoon. I texted my…girlfriend, and she says it’s fine.”

  Michael blinked. “Let me back up a minute.” He shook his head as if to align
the thoughts. “You work for your girlfriend?”

  “It’s a complicated situation,” Gage admitted. “And the girlfriend part is still new.” He hoped his brother would get the message, and he seemed to.

  “Great. But I don’t need to tag along.”

  “I already talked to her,” Gage said. “We’re meeting at the bakery at the inn where she works. They have sandwiches and stuff like that. Then I just take her home and hang out.”

  “Is that some sort of freaky code I don’t know because I’m married?” Michael asked.

  Gage blinked and then burst out laughing. “No, bro. Nothing like that. I’m her bodyguard. She has a bit of a stalker problem, and I literally babysit her in the afternoon and evening so she feels safe.”

  “But she’s your girlfriend.” Michael raised his eyebrows.

  “I mean, it’s new,” Gage said. “Maybe you could just come to lunch and then we’ll see how things go.”

  “I’m down with that,” Michael said. “And Mom’s doing okay.” He sighed, which meant she wasn’t doing great. But honestly, Gage hadn’t returned to Peach Tree, because their mother was never doing very well.

  She was either on the edge of going to rehab or just getting out, and nothing Gage or Michael had done over the years had seemed to make a difference.

  “How’d you get here?” he asked.

  “Pedicab. Do you actually drive the car out there?” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder, toward the front of the house.

  “Not for a while,” Gage said, opening a drawer and rummaging around until he found the key. “See if you can start it.”

  Michael grinned, took the key, and headed outside. Gage checked on Britta’s food and water, and gave her another pat. “I’ll send Ginger to take you out tonight, okay, girl?” He hurried to text the teen who sometimes came to take care of his dog and went outside just as the car’s engine roared to life.

  “Follow me,” he said, putting his helmet back on. “It’s at The Heartwood Inn, and I park around the back, in case you get lost.”

  Michael waved at him, and Gage took off for the inn. His brother coming to the island hadn’t happened at a great time, but he couldn’t change it. His brother could take care of himself while Gage worked, because starting tomorrow, he was about to have three jobs.

  After they’d parked and were walking in together, Gage asked, “So you probably don’t want to talk about it, but what happened with Marie?”

  “I was overseas a lot,” he said, as if that summed it all up.

  Gage didn’t think it did. “Yeah, so are a lot of men and women.”

  “She says I missed too much, that she doesn’t need me, because I’m never around anyway.”

  Gage stopped, though it was much too hot to linger outside in this bright sunshine. “Wow, Mike. That’s…hurtful.”

  His brother nodded and shrugged. “She said she needs some time, and I didn’t know how to argue against that.” He sighed and looked out toward the beach. “Honestly, I couldn’t fight with her anymore.”

  Gage clapped him on the shoulder and said, “All right. Well, I’m glad you’re here. I’ll be working security at this beach next week for the surfing championship. So you’ll be pretty good friends with Britta this week.” He opened the door to the bakery and spotted Sheryl instantly.

  “Do you think your girlfriend would hire me?” Michael asked, and Gage looked at him.

  “I don’t know. Let’s ask her.” He nodded toward the beautiful blonde who had her hand in the air as if he wasn’t drawn to her the moment he saw her. He crossed the bakery to her, effortlessly weaving through tables to find she already had their food in front of her.

  “Hey,” he said, taking her into his arms and hugging her for a moment. He wanted to hold on for a lot longer, but he didn’t want to cause a scene. “This is my brother, Michael. Michael, my girlfriend, Sheryl.”

  It felt so good to say those words and have her beam at his brother like she was pleased as punch to meet him. Of course, she probably was. Sheryl seemed to have a lot of friends, and she could talk to anyone.

  “I got our sandwiches already,” she said. “Sit down.”

  Gage sat by her and let Michael take one of the chairs across from them. “He’s wondering about a job.”

  “Are you serious?” Her eyes lit up. “Because I just had two guys say they couldn’t rake the beach tomorrow, and I’ll take anything with two hands. Flippers, even.”

  Michael said, “I’m in,” and Sheryl started laughing.

  “You should hear what I’m going to do to you before you accept,” she said, leaning forward. “There’s a reason two guys quit last minute.” She giggled again, and Gage basked in the sound of it, feeling happier than he had in a long time. He slipped his arm around her waist, and she leaned into him next, and he thought he might actually have a chance of falling in love with this woman.

  His pulse stumbled around like the intoxicated man he’d removed from the ferry that morning. He’d never been an overly emotional guy. Never really considered himself capable of carving a spot for someone else in his life.

  But a very Sheryl-sized hole was burrowing into his heart, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sheryl stood under the umbrella she’d set up first thing that morning, almost before the sun had gotten up. Well, that was practically impossible unless she got up as early as her sister Alissa did. She was out on Big Blue by three each morning to get the fish the chefs needed for the restaurant at the inn.

  She looked at her clipboard and said, “Javier, we need the grandstands to run the entire length of the beach. Where are the rest of them?”

  “That’s all we’ve got,” he said.

  Sheryl frowned out at the half-dozen men making sure the stands would stay put in the sand. “That can’t be right. There are only six of them. I know we have eight.”

  “I thought we did too,” he said, lifting a water bottle to his lips. She’d lectured everyone at six-thirty that morning to drink enough. Come stand in the shade if they got overheated. Eat something. She had food and water on-hand, and she’d ordered all the ice cream from the grocery store last night for their end-of-setup banana split party.

  The grocery store here on the island made specialty ice creams, including a banana pudding one that was killer with more bananas, hot fudge and caramel sauce. Her mouth watered just thinking about it.

  “I’m going to go check the shed,” she said.

  “Simon was already in there this morning.”

  “I know we have more stands.” She handed him the clipboard. “Keep them working. Garbage cans are next, and Helen is bringing those in. She’ll be here in five minutes.”

  Sheryl hated walking through sand in sneakers, but she couldn’t show up for work in her swimming suit and flip flops. So she wore her uniform, complete with the white sneakers to show solidarity with her grounds crew. She straddled the ATV and started toward the southwest side of the inn. The tennis courts were over here, along with that stretch of sidewalk with the flower beds she’d re-barked.

  They also had a huge storage shed behind a tall fence, and she left the ATV running while she jumped down to unlock the gate with her keycard. An electronic record of every entry and exit was kept on the inn’s computer system, and she could check to see if Simon had indeed been there that morning.

  But she didn’t need to. Simon was trustworthy, and he’d definitely gotten the stands out that morning. Her ATV didn’t have a wagon or trailer attached, and she wasn’t sure how she’d get the stands back even if she found them.

  “Call someone,” she told herself as she motored over to the biggest door on the side of the shed. It went up with screeches and groans, and sure enough, there were no more stands inside.

  Olympia would lose her mind if Sheryl told her they were short twenty-five-percent of their seating. Her sister sold tickets for those seats, and they cost more than just a spot of sand on the beach. They n
eeded those stands.

  “Missing something?” a man asked, and Sheryl spun around, her heart ricocheting around inside her chest.

  “Ricky.” She backed up a step, pressing one hand to her rapid-fire pulse while her other went immediately to her phone. “How did you get in here?”

  “That’s not important.”

  Of course it was important, but Sheryl didn’t want to argue with him. “You told Gage you’d stay away.”

  “Did I?” He took a step forward, and she went backward again, realizing that she was moving into the empty storage shed. “I don’t remember doing that.”

  “I’m calling the police,” she said, glancing down at her phone for just a moment. But in that breath of time, Ricky had gotten closer. Too close. She looked right into his eyes, and pure fear seeped into her very bones.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, though his eyes sparked with a type of danger that said otherwise. “Sheryl, I need a job. I know you’re doing the beach for the surfing championship, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get on the crew.” He didn’t look away from her, and her compassion swam through her.

  “Where are the stands?”

  “I’m sure I can help you find them.” He lifted his chin. “If you hire me on.”

  Sheryl didn’t see how she could. But she also needed those grandstands, and she knew Ricky had taken them and knew right where they were. Indecision raged through her as she tried to find another solution.

  “Sheryl,” he said.

  “Fine,” she snapped at him. “You don’t talk to me. You’ll get all of your assignments from Javier, and you won’t talk to anyone else either. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “This is a temporary job. One week. If you’re late, even one minute late, you’re fired.”

  “I won’t be late.”

  “If I see you talking to someone, and I don’t like it, you’re out of here.”

  “Fine.”

  Sheryl tried to think of anything else she needed to have on the list of things he couldn’t do. “You won’t ask me for a permanent job when this is done.”