by Cyndi Raye
Although their stints in the Armed Forces ended a few years before, the men still respected him as the leading authority. Ben absently kissed the top of Angela's head and the two proceeded to make eyes at each other, forgetting they had company. The two of them had been friends for more than a decade before they admitted to having feelings for each other. Their relationship was new and in the pre-honeymoon phase, which meant that the Bad Boys were subjected to walking in on hot looks and lots of stolen kisses.
When Ben leaned over to whisper something in Angela's ear that made her blush, that was the group's cue to pack it up for the night. The guys filed out of the bar after yelling their goodbyes at the bartender and owner of the establishment, Lenny. Ben and Angela made their way to a table in the open area of the bar that overlooked the ocean and settled close to each other.
Cole was not ready to go back to his condo alone so he went to the scarred wooden bar, snagged a stool and ordered another beer.
"Coming right up," Lenny said, moving around a female bartender he recently hired. The two looked completely different. In his late 50s, Lenny was hugely muscled, colorfully tattooed and pierced while the woman who looked to be in her 30s had untouched pale skin and gave off a straight-laced vibe. Still, they flowed around each other effortlessly.
Lenny placed a glass bottle of dark lager in front of Cole. "How's it hangin'?"
His Texas accent was as big as his personality and Cole could not help but return the older man's smile with a brief one of his own. "Nothing to complain about. How about you?"
"Oh, same ole, same ole."
There was a sudden awkward silence.
"Something on your mind, Lenny?" Cole asked when the other man lingered, opened his mouth as if to say something but turned his head away at the last second.
Lenny's cheeks turned red. The bartender was usually one to say what’s on his mind. He seemed reluctant tonight. "Well, yes. I was hoping you'd do me a favor actually."
If Cole was a man prone to showing outward reaction, his eyebrow would have risen. Cole learned to control his emotion and his outward features a long time ago when he learned just how much easier it was for an enemy to use those two things against a person.
Instead he raised the bottle to his mouth and said, "Name it."
"You still doing security?"
Cole was not only part of the BKH Bad Boys but did some security work on the side. He did simply to keep his edge and fight the boredom that sometimes crept up on him between missions with the rest of the team. "I do but it all depends on the job and if I'm available. Why? You know someone who needs help?"
Lenny grabbed a towel and started wiping down the bar. Cole could see it was more from nervousness rather than to keep the counter top clean. He waited while Lenny gathered his thoughts.
"Where do I start?" Lenny passed a hand over his head, his usually happy spirit falling to reveal stress Cole had no idea how he carried.
"How about the beginning? That's always a good place."
Lenny nodded. "I had a sister, Regina. We were never really close growin’ up. Our parents pitted us against each other a lot back then. They've already passed and to this day, I still don't know why they were deliberately building a rift between Reg and I." Lenny sighed then continued, "Anyhow, we only grew further apart as adults and I had not heard from her in two years apart from the occasional postcard from whatever city she was livin’ in at the time. She was a travel journalist, until recently.
She called me on the telephone and we got to talkin’. She seemed different and we connected in a way we never had before. We were on the phone for almost an hour before she confessed that she was being stalked by a douche bag ex of hers. He is involved in drug trafficking and she was goin’ to testify against him. I tried to convince her to come down here where I could keep an eye on her. She told me she would think about it. I found out she died of cancer the day after we talked. I did not even know she was sick. What kind of brother does that make me?"
Lenny voice broke at the end and Cole thought he saw a sheen of tears in the man’s eyes. Cole opened his mouth to say, he was not sure what. He was out of his element here. Need someone to take out a group of bad guys? Cole was your guy. Providing comfort? Not so much.
Lenny pulled himself together before Cole could come up with any words. “Anyway, she has a daughter named Callie and this bastard is now after her. He attempted to burn an apartment down around her." Lenny's hand clenched around the cloth. "The police can’t find the bastard anywhere. It’s like he dropped off the face of the earth but we know he is out there and he is out to get her. She showed up here last night. Said her mother told her to come to me if she needed help. I tried to convince her to stay at my place but she insisted she did not want to cause me any trouble if he showed up here. I paid for a rental a few minutes away, put it in my name so no one can track her down. She's all the family I have left, Cole. I can’t lose her too. I need your help.”
Cole was picturing an adolescent kid and had already mentally committed to helping Lenny keep Callie safe.
Again Lenny's emotions got the better of him but before Cole had the chance to contemplate consoling the older man, the voice of an angel distracted him.
A dark-haired beauty was seated on a stool on the stage Lenny kept for musical performances, strumming a guitar and crooning softly into the microphone in front of her.
He had never heard the song she sang before. The words spoke of yesterday's regrets and tomorrow's promises. The melody flowed like a deep river, heartbreaking and inspiring. Each cord seeped into Cole's brain until his entire body vibrated with them.
Cole was a lover of music. It helped soothe his soul when the world was exploding around him. Nothing had ever touched him like this though.
The crowd was as still as Cole was, caught in the performance and riveted.
The singer was as beautiful as her song. She was dressed in a pair of full length blue jeans and a loose white blouse. Light seemed to radiate from her in the dim room. Her skin was pale and her hair flowed around her shoulders, shifting as she played the instrument and tapped her sandalled feet. Her eyes were closed as her voice rose. It was like she was playing for herself and no one else existed in that moment.
When at last the song died down into a whispered note, the crowd roared with applause and demanded more. She seemed startled when she opened her eyes, as if just realizing she was not alone.
She smiled and began another song. That one continued into another and another. Cole did not move the entire time she performed. His eyes were trained on her, cataloguing every detail. Silver-colored eyes. Bow-shaped pink lips. High cheek bones. A small mole near the right side of her lips.
The stitched cut on her forehead made him growl. It was unforgivable that it may have caused her pain.
His heart was beating hard and fast, adrenaline racing. His body strained to act. To stake his claim.
Cole never had such a reaction to a woman before. It scared him. It exhilarated him.
Renowned for his cool and control, Cole was becoming undone by a woman he did not even know.
When she got off the stage and came toward where he sat, his body's response became even stronger.
Before Lenny said, "Cole, this is my niece, Callie," Cole knew who she was.
He also knew he would take a bullet to the head before he let anyone hurt her.
Chapter 3
Callie screamed.
She had just crossed the threshold from her bedroom into the living room and found a strange man in her kitchen. Flashbacks of the last time an unknown man was in her house made her knees wobble. Then the man turned around and her knees shook for another reason.
Cole Brown.
Dressed all in black with a gun holstered at his waist, he was looking all kinds of sexy and dangerous. He stood at the stove turning something over in a skillet.
After her performance last night, her uncle had introduced her to Cole.
Short, je
t black hair.
Piercing blue eyes.
A full lower lip that made her want to nibble on it. Cole was tall, dark and gorgeous. No woman could truthfully say otherwise. A purely feminine response had flooded Callie’s system when they shook hands. He looked so strong and solid when he stood and she had an inexplicable urge to lean into that strength.
That urge had warning signals going off in her head. Callie was not one to rely on anyone, especially a man, for anything. That alarm only got louder when Uncle Lenny announced that he hired Cole to be her bodyguard. Of course, Callie instantly dispelled that statement.
She did not want personal security. Yes, she saw why her uncle saw the need for it but she refused to live the rest of her life dictated by the actions of a mad man. She would not give him the satisfaction. Besides, she did not want anyone else caught in the crossfire when Tony came after her again. She knew without a doubt he would. She bought a gun before leaving Miami. It was all the protection she needed or wanted.
Her protests were ignored by the two men so she got her belongings and walked out on the two of them. Her parting shot was, "I do not want or need a bodyguard and that's final." She walked to her apartment which was only five minutes away from Lenny's bar feeling eyes on her. When she crossed the threshold of her one bedroom space, she finally spotted Cole leaning against a lamp post only a few feet away. She scowled and closed the door.
Now, Cole was in her kitchen preparing something that smelled delicious.
"I did not mean to scare you," he said.
"You should have considered that before you broke into my apartment," she yelled as she tried to calm her racing heart. "How did you get in anyway?"
Her near brush with death now had her double and triple checking all locks and exits before she went to sleep at night.
He was plating eggs, bacon and toast, moving around the tiny kitchen like he owned it while Callie fumed.
"You can pick every single lock in this place with a pin. The front door will give way with a solid kick. There is no alarm system and the lighting outside is terrible. It was child's play for me to get in. I hope you realize you need me. I hope you like bacon and eggs. Coffee?"
She wanted to rant at him but coffee was a must each and every morning. She needed to be fortified if she was to deal with this.
He did not wait for her to answer though and brought a plate and cup to the table dividing the kitchen and living room. She slowly made her way over and he pulled out the chair for her. The coffee was perfect. Her mother always said a man who could make coffee right was a keeper.
Callie pushed the thought away as he sat next to her with breakfast of his own. He made excellent eggs, and she barely kept from moaning at every bite. They ate in silence. He had long since finished by the time she took her last bite.
"I don't want a bodyguard," she reinforced when the silence became strained.
He stood, taking the dishes to the sink. "Whether you want one or not is a null factor. Your uncle has hired me. I am here to protect you. End of story."
Callie gaped at his back as he started to clean the used dishes. Was he serious?
"I would think that my consent is needed for this, no?”
“In this case, no. Since you’re set on being unreasonable, your consent is not necessary. Someone is dead set on hurting you and I will not allow it.”
“Why the hell do you care if I get hurt? You don’t know me. This has nothing to do with you.”
His tone had been mild before but then he turned around and growled, "I am not leaving your side until this criminal is safely behind bars so you'd better get used to my presence."
He was now standing toe to toe with her, looming. She rose onto her tiptoes and thrust her nose at him. "I wonder how you’re going to do that when I have you arrested for trespassing.”
"Someone tried to kill you."
"I am aware of that."
"Then stop being a brat and help me keep that cute little ass of yours alive. I am going to be at your side day and night, with or without your okay on that. Now I need you to go pack up some stuff. We're not staying here. It's not secure.”
Callie clenched her fist in anger, turned away from him, went back into her bedroom and slammed the door shut. She turned the lock just in case he did not get the message. She did not want him here.
The text message she received on her cell phone a few minutes later only solidified her conviction about avoiding getting anyone else involved in this mess. I'm coming for you. Better get rid of that bodyguard if you don't want his body bag next to yours.
****
Cole knew the exact moment Callie thought she got the drop on him. He rigged her bedroom window with motion sensors. His smart phone alerted him that they had been triggered.
He knew she would try to escape his care. There were clients who were grateful for a bodyguard and others that resisted the orders of their personal security or having that security at all. The scowl on Callie’s face when her uncle informed her he would be guarding her told him she would fall in the latter group.
Cole was also good at reading people. Callie was a vibrant, free spirit. She would not appreciate having her freedom restricted and she’d make it very difficult for anyone who attempted to do that. He had not expected her to test him so quickly.
A quick push of his shoulder and the bedroom door gave way. The window was open and the morning breeze blew the white curtain in. Outside, an almost identical apartment building could be seen.
He already knew the layout of the bedroom, double bed against the right wall, chest of drawers next to it, a wardrobe set on the opposite wall and a chair next to the window, which was across from the entrance. The area was void of the few personal knick knacks he observed last night. The drawers were open and empty.
Cole cleared the few feet to the window in under two seconds and was following her down from the second floor apartment. He saw Callie immediately. She had changed out of the tank top and long pajama pants and into dark jeans and a long sleeved top. A backpack hung off her right shoulder and her sneakered feet were making good time on the asphalt covered ground.
He dropped lightly on the balls of his feet in the narrow alley. She spotted him, let out a tiny growl he would have called adorable any other time and tried to run. Then, a sixth sense that always warned him of imminent danger had him tackling her.
The bullet slammed into the dumpster next to them as they landed. He covered her with his body and withdrew his weapon from the holster. Callie screamed, jerking at the sound of more shots being fired in their direction. Her hands flew to cover her ears. The bullets hit the ground around them. Cole did not flinch at the quick slice of pain on his left upper arm.
He did not have time to soothe or reassure the woman beneath him. He popped off two shots at a beat-up old, black car, the direction the gunfire came from. He made out a lone figure in the front seat, a slimmed-faced man with dark shades and a moustache.
Cole had a full file on Tony Dennis after a night of research and recognized him from the multiple photos he obtained. Cole raised his gun a little higher and aimed for him. Cole knew Tony’s type, a bully that ran any time someone put up a decent fight.
There was a scream when Cole’s aim rang true. As predicted, the car engine started up soon after and the car disappeared down the street within seconds. Mindful that there could be other unseen threats, Cole pulled Callie between two dumpsters, all the while keeping her protected with his larger frame. His gun hand still trained on the street, he pulled out his phone and dialed a friend at the Boot Key Harbor Police Department.
The officer answered on the second ring, moving from friendly to all business as Cole gave him a run-down of what just happened, their location and description of the car. They’d stay put while help was on the way.
Chapter 4
Callie stood in the center of Cole’s living room. The room was beautiful. Everything was set in deep, rich colors. Large windows took up the wall op
posite the entrance and overlooked the ocean. The home sat higher up and palm trees swayed in the wind as if saluting the onset of dusk.
The kitchen was on the left, wooden and granite surfaces complimenting the design of the living room. A hallway on the left led to the rest of the house. The place felt warm and homey. With Cole’s natural outward reserve, it was nothing like Callie expected. She wished she could appreciate it more but as it was, it felt like she was looking at everything from far away.
She felt like she just survived a shipwreck and was washed up and lost. Feet heavy, she moved toward the window. She would have liked to use the view of the rolling waves in the distance to soothe her but all she saw was her dishevelled reflection in the glass. Her brown hair was in tangles around her shoulders. Her eyes were glassy-looking and her usually pink lips were pale. She looked like a ghost. Underneath the blanket Cole had wrapped around her, her clothes were dirty and there was a darkening bruise on her right shoulder, a product of when she landed on the hard ground.
Defeat weighed her shoulders down and her appearance matched her battle weary soul. Cole came in through the huge front door. He carried her bag and other supplies he gathered from his Jeep. Her guitar case was slung over one shoulder.
She gasped when she saw her precious guitar. She had been unable to run with it when she made her escape from the apartment. She had left it in the living room the night before. When she received Tony’s text, she could not risk Cole stopping her by going back into the living room to get her prized guitar.
It was the first guitar she ever owned and her favorite. Her mother had given it to her on her eleventh birthday. Miraculously, it had survived the fire and now had the scorch marks to make her appreciate it even more. It had hurt her to the core to leave it behind but she thought she was doing the right thing.
After being questioned by the police about the incident in the alley, Cole told her he was taking her to his home. She had no idea when he retrieved it but the guitar sat in the back seat when he drove away from the apartment building.
