“Fine. I mean… thank you.”
He nodded and started to turn away.
“Would you like a drink?” I blurted.
“No, thank you,” he said. “I don’t drink with clients.” Then he disappeared up the hall to the guest room.
Well, now. There was a rule I definitely didn’t love.
I cleaned up, and as I did, I tried to process everything he’d said.
He seemed totally sincere in wanting to keep me safe. He seemed devoted to his work. And I did believe my friends who’d told me he was the best in the business.
I really tried to accept that all these changes were being implemented in my best interest. To keep me safe and secure.
But I still didn’t like any of it.
Many hours later, when I emerged from my music studio totally spent and ready to fall into bed, I found the house quiet and dark.
It was the middle of the night, and only a single light had been left on. I followed the slight glow; the light was on over the stove.
Ronan was sleeping on my living room couch, with no blanket. His laptop was open but in sleep mode, right next to him. Looked like he’d fallen asleep in the middle of working.
What the hell.
I’d told him he could sleep in the guest room.
The instant I walked into the room, he was already waking up. He sat up, alert.
“Oops,” I said. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
I totally did.
“What kind of bodyguard would I be if I slept through you banging around the room?” he muttered.
Jesus. He just woke up, and already with the dry sass.
“I did not bang around. I was quiet.” He must’ve had some serious Spidey senses or something, because I was quiet as a mouse.
“You were not quiet.”
“I was totally quiet,” I insisted, planting my hands on my hips. Was he seriously arguing with me in the middle of the night? “And what are you doing out here? You don’t even have a blanket.”
“I’m fine.”
He rubbed his eyes, watching as I picked up his sad little plastic bag. One of his guys had dropped it off just after dinner, along with his car. Presumably, it held a change of clothes and some toiletries and stuff. He was now wearing a dark T-shirt and sweatpants.
I reached to take his hand and tugged him to his feet.
“What’s going on?” he said.
“Come here, tough guy.”
I led him up the hall to the guest room he’d been using to work. I turned on a small lamp and set his bag down on the floor. Then I peeled back the covers on the bed.
“Sleep here,” I told him, and left him there.
Chapter Nine
Ronan
I was up early again, around five-thirty. I’d fallen asleep just before midnight, and other than the wake-up in the middle of the night when Summer escorted my ass into one of her guest rooms, I’d slept pretty solid. Five hours’ sleep was usually more than enough to do it for me.
My mind was already in overdrive as I took a shower in the guest bathroom, then went about my work.
Besides the work I was doing for Brody and Jude, providing personal security for Summer and assessing security needs for the Players, I had other tasks that required my attention.
My security firm, Sentinel Security Group, had been founded by my uncle Rob and two of his buddies, over three decades ago. Rob was ex-military, one of his partners was ex-RCMP, and the other had worked at CSIS as a covert agent. So when the three of them brought their combined expertise to the private security sector, they were no joke.
And good thing.
When I was a teenager, my uncle had hired me on to SSG in an attempt to save me from the dark road I was headed down.
Summer had called it; I was Trouble with a capital T when I was a kid.
By the time I was sixteen, I’d been arrested twice and gotten away with breaking way more laws than I’d been caught for. I was hanging out with other troubled kids, getting up to no fucking good, and I really might have ended up fucked for life if Uncle Rob hadn’t stepped in and set me straight.
I’d always be grateful to him for that.
At the time, I wasn’t grateful. But he’d basically given me an ultimatum. My parents had complained to him that I was getting out of hand; said they were thinking of encouraging me to join the military. Maybe they thought he’d be amenable to that, since he’d been in the military himself.
Not so much.
Instead, Rob sat me down and informed me that I was too smart to be wasted as a “bullet catcher.” That I’d be better off working for him. I was young and stubborn, but my uncle Rob was a smart man and a role model to me, and he won me over.
He hired me on part-time while I was still in high school, got me working in the office, and started training me. I didn’t love it, at first. I was a hotheaded kid who thought he knew everything, as kids do.
But I soon came around when I realized how fucking cool my uncle’s job was. I basically got trained to be a badass.
Physical fitness, martial arts, criminal psychology, weapons handling, advanced driving, crowd control, covert security operations… I got to learn all kinds of interesting shit. I got to work alongside city police, the RCMP, and major security organizations, in a position of respect.
Not so bad for a kid who’d been headed for a life of mediocrity, or worse.
I’d worked for many years as a bodyguard, doing VIP close protection; that was my specialty in the company. My uncle had identified, early on, that I had a natural ability to make VIPs feel safe in my presence, to instill confidence and trust, and time and again, I landed the most elite assignments.
Several years ago, when my uncle’s partners both retired, he made me his partner.
I’d trained and managed our elite bodyguard unit, which was the crowning jewel of the company. And as partner, I was able to solicit new contracts. I was the one who’d landed the Dirty contract about six years ago. They’d contracted me as a consultant, and I’d provided them with close protection security professionals and event security staff, as needed. I’d hired out Flynn, who was on my elite team, to Dirty; he’d left Sentinel when Brody and Jude offered him a full-time position on their crew.
No hard feelings there. It was a solid, full-time gig with great pay and incredible benefits—like traveling the world and more or less living the life of a rock star.
Could hardly fault him for making that career move.
Last year, my uncle had retired and I’d taken over the business. I’d spent much of the last year handling the transition, and restructuring the executive team. I’d promoted my longtime employees and friends, Sebastian and Naveen, to be my number two and number three on paper, though I considered them equal partners.
Sebastian was our COO. He was the business guy; an expert in contract negotiation, planning and supervising the growth of the company.
Naveen had left Vancouver PD with an injury about eight years ago, and as an ex-cop, he brought a ton of experience and knowledge as our VP.
The Sentinel name still carried a lot of weight in Vancouver, and I’d worked hard to maintain it, retaining old contracts and making new ones. SSG now had a roster of repeat and longterm VIP clients, which would continue to be managed by Naveen and our admin team while I was tied up with this assignment.
But I needed to head over to the office for a bit, take care of a few things, since I wouldn’t be pulling office hours for the foreseeable future. I figured I’d slip over there this morning, once Maddox and his guys arrived to install the new alarm system and change out the locks on Summer’s house.
I’d been over it, repeatedly, and any way I looked at it, this assignment was going to need my full attention. At least until I felt certain that Summer was completely safe.
And the deeper I delved here, the more I was unsure of that.
From what I’d learned so far, Summer’s band, the Players, were a newly formed rock band. B
rody had signed a contract as their manager only two months ago. He had a lot to take care of in that capacity, and he also managed Dirty, who were a hugely successful band.
Since the Players were just coming together and wouldn’t actually be working together as a band until sometime next year—after their bassist, Matt Brohmer, who was currently touring with Dirty, came off the road at the end of that tour—Brody and Jude had put the Players’ security concerns on the long-ass to-do list, but it wasn’t exactly a pressing issue.
Until now.
Ashley Player’s part-time bodyguard, Hayden, or Hazard/“Haz,” as his brothers in the Kings MC called him, was at least licensed, which security professionals needed to be, legally, to work in this province. And like Brody and Jude had said in our meeting yesterday, we’d offered Haz the full-time gig. He’d accepted. If he ever changed his mind about that, I had many guys who’d be happy to take that assignment.
Xander Rush had a buddy of his, Lucas, playing bodyguard on a casual basis. He wasn’t licensed, but Xander liked him and Jude had insisted on offering him the same deal as Haz was getting, if he wanted it—as long as he also got licensed asap.
Matt Brohmer, since he was on the road, had his own guy on tour with him, and we’d leave well enough alone there until the tour was done.
As for Summer…
If you’d prefer someone else as your bodyguard, we can make other arrangements.
Riiiight.
Not sure why I’d even bothered making her that offer—fucking twice now—because it was total bullshit.
Was I testing her? Fishing for fucking compliments?
Hoping she’d gasp in horror and insist no man but me could possibly protect her?
I wasn’t putting anyone on this assignment besides me. That much I knew for sure.
My guys were completely solid. I’d trust them with my own life or with that of a loved one, no hesitation.
But why would I assign any of my guys to Summer’s security detail when I could assign myself?
It was better that I was here, on the frontlines, for now. Best vantage point from which to evaluate things.
And keep an eye on her.
Yeah, so, the scenery was better than staring at my office wall. Way fucking better.
I’d admit that.
It didn’t mean that was a factor in my decision making. As soon as I’d determined that the threat had passed and the client was safe, I’d pass off the bodyguard position to the next guy and move on.
My retirement from bodyguard duty was still imminent. It was just on hold for the time being.
At nine a.m., Maddox and two guys from his brother’s company arrived, right on time. They brought the work van again, and Maddox arrived on his Harley.
I went to open the door for them.
Summer hadn’t yet emerged from the back hall, so I assumed she was still in her room.
Punctual and professional, the guys from Triple X all shook my hand, looked me in the eye and introduced themselves when I let them in. They also removed their footwear when they stepped into the house.
Maybe Maddox had briefed them on who I was.
I definitely knew who they were. I’d had my team run a quick check on all three of them, including Maddox. The other two weren’t members of the Kings MC, but that still didn’t tell me everything I needed to know.
As they got to work, I pulled Maddox aside.
“You carrying?” I asked him.
“No.”
“Any of your guys carrying?”
“No, man.”
“Good. No one carries in Summer’s house or while working security for her in any capacity, unless I say. Got it?”
“Yeah,” Maddox said, “I got it.”
“I’m heading over to my office in a bit. I’ll be gone about three hours, max. No one enters this house without your approval, and don’t feel like you need to be nice about it.”
He smirked. “Not a problem.”
“Good. Do your best to work around Summer. Stay out of whatever room she’s in. Leave her alone when she’s in her bedroom upstairs.”
“Can do.”
I nodded and left him do his thing. Besides the security check I’d run on him, I knew Jude wouldn’t put anyone on the job who hadn’t earned it. Maddox was licensed, and obviously someone—Brody or Jude—had briefed him that I was in charge here.
I didn’t sense any ego battles or bullshit.
He headed out to the sunroom, where one of his guys was starting to drill into the shared wall to the kitchen. The other guy was already changing out the locks in the door to the garage.
I headed upstairs to find Summer’s bedroom door closed.
There was no sound from inside.
I knocked on the door, softly. I could’ve texted her, but in case she wasn’t awake yet or didn’t see the text, I didn’t want her to be alarmed at the sound of men going in and out of her house and drilling into her walls.
“Summer?”
I heard her voice from deep inside the room. Something like, Just a minute. She sounded… sleepy.
And suddenly I pictured her completely naked.
Not that I’d seen her naked, but I had an imagination. Those curvy, toned legs in her yoga pants. That fantastic, round ass. Full breasts. Soft, pale skin… I could envision her, climbing out of that big bed of hers, stretching a little…
I’d only been in her bedroom when she wasn’t in it.
And now standing here, picturing her inside… felt way too intimate.
I almost turned tail and ducked back down the stairs.
Get a fucking hold of yourself.
“It’s Ronan,” I said, though I hoped by now she knew the sound of my voice. And also knew it was the only man’s voice she was gonna be hearing at her bedroom door for the foreseeable future.
I waited a moment, then said, “The guys are here to install the alarm—”
She opened the door and I stopped talking. She must’ve just gotten out of bed, because her dark hair was a mess. Total sex hair.
Probably how she’d look after rolling around in bed with me…
Stop thinking it.
Too late.
She wasn’t naked, but the sex hair and the slightly sleepy eyes were an incredible look on her. There was no makeup on her bare skin. She was wearing a silky black robe, with a wisp of something lacy underneath. Pale-blue.
She was tying the robe, cinching it around her waist, and I averted my eyes.
I cleared my throat and tried again. “Maddox and his guys are here to install the alarm system and change out the locks on the exterior doors. They’ll need access to your bedroom. But I’ve told them not to bother you. You can let them know when it’s a good time to access this room.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m heading out for a bit. Popping over to the office and picking up some things from my place. You need anything, talk to Maddox until I get back.”
“Okay…” she said, sounding uncertain as she gazed up at me. Those pale-blue eyes…
Every time they locked on mine, I felt like I’d trip and fall right in.
“I won’t be long,” I assured her. “You can call me if you need to. I can take a call, anytime.”
“Okay.”
Silence. I wasn’t sure what else to say.
It felt strange to be leaving her, when I’d told her I was here to protect her. But it was broad daylight, she had three men downstairs, and I really had no reason to hesitate.
Any chance Blair Sanchuk tried to come skulking around, I’d hear about it from the tail we’d put on him, long before he ever got close. From the moment he was released from the police station yesterday, we’d had a guy following him, reporting in to my partner, Naveen.
I hadn’t told Summer that.
These were decisions made with Brody and Jude. Putting a tail on Sanchuk, but not telling Summer about it. The less she knew or had to hear about him, the better. That was what Brody had decided, and
Jude and I had agreed. Brody was paying for the tail himself, so I really had no reason to argue. He knew Summer better than I did, and if he thought we should keep things on a need-to-know basis, for now, so be it. Seemed to make sense at the time.
Looking into her eyes, I wasn’t so sure.
But for now, I’d stick with the plan.
Anyway, even if Sanchuk got near this house, one glimpse of Maddox’s Harley and the security company van parked in the driveway was sure to send him running.
“I’ll be back soon,” I assured her.
“Okay.”
I turned and headed back downstairs, trying to stop mentally peeling that robe off her shoulders and sliding my hand into her panties.
Too. Late.
Was she wearing panties…?
Now there was a question I did not need to ask myself.
Christ, she’d look good in that pale-blue lacy thing, whatever it was. Matched her eyes.
I told Maddox, gruffly, that I was going, and headed outside.
Nice day. Partly sunny, but cool and crisp. Hopefully cool enough to chill me the fuck out. My cold, dead heart enjoyed the icy burn as I inhaled the autumn air, but my body was overheating.
I wished I had my motorcycle.
Both Maddox’s bike and the van were parked to the side of the driveway so they didn’t block in my car. I got in and drove straight to my office, trying to stop thinking about Summer’s ass and how it would look in skimpy, pale-blue lace. And in my hands, of course.
No such luck.
That picture kept flashing in my head like a road sign, pointing me in the wrong direction. My hands on Summer’s ass… squeezing as her hips bobbed up and down… and her pussy swallowed my cock.
Jesus, that got X-rated fast.
I needed to get laid or something.
I pulled into the small, empty parking lot behind the three-story walk-up building that housed the Sentinel offices, just off Main and Broadway. It was only about a fifteen-minute drive from Summer’s place. We were on the third floor, and I let myself in with my keys and stalked up the stairs. I deactivated the alarm and headed down the hall to my corner office.
Sweet Temptation: A Players Rockstar Romance (Players, Book 3) Page 13
