Protect Me - A Steamy Bodyguard Romance (You Can't Resist a Bad Boy Book 5)

by Layla Valentine

  Henry whistled appreciatively. “Sounds like you saved his life,” he said.

  “I didn’t think about that. I guess maybe I did. Wish I could’ve done it without almost killing him.”

  “Well, you live and you learn,” Henry said with a smile. A comfortable lull in the conversation was filled with sips of beer and killdeer cries. “So what do you want to do for your bachelor party?”

  * * *

  Friday night rolled around too quickly. After a lot of discussion, me and the boys had decided that Friday was better than Saturday for the bachelor party, since it would give us a whole day to recover before the wedding. I use the term “boys” loosely; Sky came along with us, and I still wasn’t entirely sure what Sky’s deal was. I had followed Paisley’s lead in the matter, though, and just accepted whichever role Sky decided to play on any particular day. Dana had gone to the bachelorette party, which befuddled me all the way down to my boots, but I didn’t think about it too hard.

  Flanked by Henry on one side and Billy on the other with Sky trailing behind, I led my small cluster of friends down into the basement where I had earned my living for so many years. I could taste the adrenaline in the air, feel the excitement like electricity on my skin. Billy and I shared an elated grin.

  “You used to fight here?” Henry asked, his eyes glowing.

  “Hell yeah, man. Five nights a week, for years.”

  “He never lost,” Billy grinned. “I didn’t either. That’s why they wanted us to duke it out.”

  “And then Tyler killed your streak,” Sky said with morose fascination.

  “Sure did, man. Best thing that ever happened to me, too.” Billy winked at me, and I shook my head.

  He didn’t look too different from the way he had before. He had a circular scar on his skull where they had drilled to relieve the pressure, and his nose had a new lump in it, but I almost couldn’t tell. He’d broken his nose so many times before I got to him that it was virtually unrecognizable from his school pictures. A new scar ran across his upper lip, and his dental inserts glowed under black light.

  I was just glad he was walking straight again.

  Reaching way up, I clapped a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently. He still didn’t know that I was the one who had paid his hospital bills, but I suspected that he suspected.

  “Here we go,” Billy said excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Man, look at that! Ugh, I’d love to get in there.”

  His face lit up like a kid’s as the fighters circled each other. I felt that wave of calm which always flowed over me in the seconds before a fight, that laser-point focus. The adrenaline began to trickle through my limbs, pooling in my fists, making them heavier than they had any right to be. The first punch landed with a crunch on the side of the other guy’s head.

  Billy whooped, dancing back and forth as close to the ring as he could get. My stomach turned over as flashes of Billy’s broken face filled my mind’s eye. I pushed the images away, forcing the lively Billy into my vision. See, I told myself. He’s fine.

  Turning back to the ring, I found myself admiring one guy’s footwork and the other guy’s speed. Slowly, the adrenaline trickled away as my body caught up with what my brain was chanting: We aren’t fighting today.

  “This is great!” Henry shouted next to my ear. “My dad would have loved this!”

  Mine would have, too, I thought grimly.

  I tried to shake off thoughts of my father, but they refused to go away. How much had I changed since I last saw him? I was taller. Bigger. Faster. I could fight, I could work, I could cook well enough to pass. I’d traveled the world. Outgrown old friends, like Dan, and my old kill-or-be-killed way of life. I’d fallen in love. If I could change that much in ten years, maybe my Dad could too.

  What would Paisley do? I knew the answer. She showed me every day. Every time she reached out to her mother or let Jude’s crude language slide off of her unruffled feathers. Every time she dropped a hundred in a panhandler’s pot, insisting that if even one person did something good with it, she didn’t care how many squandered it. Everyone got a clean slate with Paisley.

  “I’ll be right back, guys,” I told them. “I need to make a call.”

  “Calling your girl during your bachelor party is la-ame!” Billy called after me, a huge grin on his face.

  I sneered at him, but didn’t correct him. Billy knew enough to ask questions I didn’t want to answer, not yet anyway.

  Out on the quiet street, I looked down at my phone, swallowing hard. I remembered the number. But what if he’d changed it? What if he was already dead? When I took off, he’d been doing his damnedest to drink his way into an early grave.

  “So you’ll dial a wrong number. Not the end of the world.” Still, my fingers refused to move over the keys. “Man up, ya wuss.”

  I dialed, goaded by my own insult. My mouth went dry as I held the phone to my ear and listened to it ring.

  “Hello?”

  My heart sank. It wasn’t him, it couldn’t be. This voice sounded robust and sober, two things my dad most certainly was not.

  “Hi, um… I’m trying to get a hold of Steve Macintyre. Would you happen to know where I could reach him?”

  “You just did. This is Steve.”

  My breath was gone. Time seemed to stop. All I could hear was the rush of blood thundering in my ears. Dad.

  “Can I help you?”

  Polite. How and why was he being polite? An unwanted phone call from someone who didn’t talk. Why wasn’t he losing his temper?

  “Are you still there, sir?”

  “Um, yeah, sorry,” I cleared my throat a couple of times, trying to catch my bearings. “It’s, uh… It’s Tyler, Dad.”

  Silence. It stretched on and on, but I couldn’t bring myself to take the phone from my ear to see if he’d hung up on me. An eternal minute later, I heard him suck in a gasp. I almost grinned. He’d had the exact reaction I had.

  “Tyler?” he said, pronouncing each syllable as if he couldn’t believe it. “My boy?”

  “Yeah.” I cleared my throat again as it tightened up on me. “Look, Dad, I’m um… I’m getting married. Day after tomorrow. She’s… She’s real important to me. I want the day to be perfect for her.”

  “I saw the announcement,” he said with a tremor in his voice that I’d never heard before. “Don’t worry, son. I won’t interfere.”

  “No, Dad, I…” Was I really going to do this? I’d already started. I always finished what I started, damn it. “I’m calling to ask you if you’ll come.”

  Chapter 26

  Paisley

  Nimble fingers braided lavender sprigs into my glossy brown hair. Indigo eyes, matching my own, twinkled back at me in the mirror. Lacey winked at me as she tucked another sprig into the crown of braids around my head.

  “I swear we’ve played this game before,” I laughed, giddy with excitement.

  “That wasn’t play, that was practice,” she grinned, flashing her deep dimples. “I always knew you’d be the one to do this.”

  “First,” I objected firmly. “The one to do this first.”

  “Yeah, whatever,” she laughed. “You think a guy has to be superman to deal with you? I’m ten times worse and not nearly successful enough to get away with it.”

  “Oh, stop it,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Look at you, you’re like…the epitome of manic pixie dream girl.”

  “More like heroin chic,” she said, wrinkling her upturned nose in the mirror. “Both of which went out of style years ago. But shut up, this isn’t my day, this is your day! You’re the princess.”

  “Ugh, no. I’m a woman, in love with a man, getting married on a good old-fashioned country horse ranch.” I made a face in the mirror, and she laughed at me.

  “What’s the matter with being a princess? You’re the center of attention, everybody wants to give you presents, everybody adores you…”

  “Everybody throws their adoration at you, demanding yo
u take it,” I muttered.

  “Oh my God, girl, you’re such a pessimist. How do you even write happy music?” Lacey mumbled around the bobby pins in her mouth, scowling at an errant curl.

  “I’m not a pessimist,” I laughed. “But Lord Almighty, that world tour just about took my last breath, and I’ve got another one coming up in a few months. Today isn’t about the people who look at me, and it’s not about Country Music Star Paisley Abbott. Today is about me, just Paisley the woman, future Mrs. Macintyre.”

  Lacey paused, then shot me a stunned look in the mirror. “Oh my God, I didn’t even realize what his last name was. Isn’t that going to get confusing? Career-wise, I mean.”

  “No,” I told her, twisting my lips distastefully. “Jude’s insisting that I keep my stage name. He says it makes me sound classy, whatever that means.”

  “It means our last name sounds British,” she murmured absently as she twisted a strand of my hair around her finger, weaving a lavender sprig through it.

  I quirked my eyebrows at her as she continued.

  “I didn’t realize Jude was such a control freak…” She tilted my head this way and that in the mirror, examining her handiwork.

  “He’s my manager,” I sighed.

  “Yeah, and he’s a jackass,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Lacey Joy Abbott!” My mother’s voice sliced through the parlor, and Lacey rolled her eyes. “What on earth are you talking about? Don’t be upsetting your sister, this is her big day!”

  Mom fluttered over to me, tears twinkling in her eyes. “Oh, darling, you look so beautiful! I was so worried I would never see either of you married. Oh, I’m so happy!” She burst into tears, dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief.

  “Where was all this emotion when you were nominated for the CMAs, huh?” Lacey murmured in my ear, just loud enough for Mom to hear.

  “Oh, that’s a silly little award,” Mom said dismissively. “This is a husband! Oh sweetheart, lavender? Really? Don’t you think baby’s breath…?”

  “Nice try, Mom,” I said, batting her hands away. “No babies. Not yet, anyway. I do not have time for that.”

  “Oh, hush,” Mom said. “You can always take a break from all this globe-hopping, can’t you? You have a man now! He can take care of you, and you can have a whole house full of babies, and…”

  “Mom, he works for me.”

  She stopped in mid-sentence, her mouth agape. “I’m sorry, he what?”

  “He works for me,” I repeated firmly. “Tyler’s still officially employed as my bodyguard.”

  “What? Oh no! No, that won’t do at all. Tell you what, have him talk to— ”

  “Mom.” I cut her off. “Do you have any idea how much money I make?”

  “Well you can’t have much left, not after buying us that house, I knew you shouldn’t have done that. Oh God, I’ve put my baby in the poorhouse…”

  “Mother!” I snapped. “You are upsetting me. Do you want me to be blotchy walking down the aisle?”

  She clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide in horror. “Oh goodness, baby, I’m so sorry, I just worry about you girls, this world is so hard for girls… Champagne! You need champagne. I’ll be right back.”

  She hurried away down the hall, and Lacey and I shared an amused look. “She’s right, you know,” Lacey said somberly. “You’ve been needing a man to rescue you from your harlot life of abject poverty.”

  Peals of laughter rang through the rooms and hallways of my new house. Tyler and I had managed to furnish it just enough to host today’s party. Tomorrow, we would be off on our honeymoon, to a remote island where the locals had never even heard of Paisley Abbott.

  Finished with my hair, Lacey stepped away, leading me by my wrist to show me the complete picture in the full-length mirror.

  It was everything I had ever imagined it would be. The crown of flowers in my hair, the intricate but subtle butterfly pendant on a silver chain. The dress was every bit the down-home country fairy tale I had imagined as a starry-eyed child—all ruffled chiffon layers and flowing ribbons, dotted with dewy pearls and embroidered with tiny wildflowers. Tears filled my eyes, turning my nose red.

  “Oh, no you don’t!” Lacey said in a panic. “Your eyeliner isn’t dry; you’ll ruin the whole thing. Tilt your head back, we are drying you out right flippin’ now.” She fanned my eyes frantically, and I laughed at her.

  “You’re as bad as Mom,” I said.

  “You bite your tongue! I’m just protective of my artwork,” she sniffed.

  “Fair enough.” I straightened as she released me, satisfied that my eyes were dry enough. “What time is it?”

  “It’s, uh… Nine forty-five.”

  “Fifteen minutes,” I breathed.

  “You nervous?” She peered at me searchingly.

  I waited for the nerves, searched for them. I thought every anxiety-triggering thought I could think of, and came up empty. Blissfully serene, I smiled at her.

  “Ugh, you disgust me,” she said, sticking her tongue out. “Here I was hoping you’d hop on one of those horses and pull a runaway bride.”

  “Oh, shut up,” I laughed, shoving her. “You’re happy for me. The sooner you admit it, the sooner you can stop forcing your face into that frown. It’ll give you wrinkles.”

  “Wrinkles add character,” she grinned, flashing her deep dimples.

  Our banter died down as the minutes ticked closer and closer to ten o’clock. Twelve months and twelve hours exactly from the first time I met Tyler with his hand over my mouth. The memory made me laugh, and Lacey smiled up at me.

  “I like to see you happy. I thought this material life was going to ruin you.”

  “Never,” I swore.

  The music began and she marched away from me in her deep-plum maid-of-honor dress. Friends from high school, LA, and Jude’s studio were my bridesmaids, each dressed in a lighter shade of purple, mapping the timeline of my life. My dad appeared at my side, handsome in his tuxedo.

  “Are you sure about him?” My Dad murmured as we stepped toward the door.

  “One hundred percent.”

  “Only one hundred? Time to call off the wedding,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

  Laughing, I told him what he wanted to hear. “I am one hundred billion percent sure.”

  “That’s my girl,” he said with a smile.

  The string quartet started playing, and I met my Dad’s eyes. We both took a deep breath—the way we would when we were diving for crawdads back before music took over my life—and plunged into the next stage of my life. Tyler stood tall beneath the lavender arch. His emerald eyes glittered like the sea and a tear spilled over onto his cheek as he broke into a grin. I kissed my dad and took Tyler’s hand, wanting nothing more than to kiss him immediately.

  “Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today…”

  Lacey sniffled behind me and my smile widened. I was so going to give her crap for that later. Henry kept stealing glances at her over Tyler’s shoulder, as if he’d just seen the most beautiful thing in the world. Butterflies dipped and fluttered through the air, drawn by the expansive garden. Our closest friends, family, and people that we couldn’t very well leave out of it. Like Jude, in his flashy teal tuxedo.

  “Do you, Paisley Abbott, take Tyler Macintyre to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

  “I really do,” I sighed, coaxing a soft wave of laughter from the onlookers.

  “And do you, Tyler Macintyre, take Paisley Abbott to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

  “I do… I do. Over and over again.”

  All I could see was his gorgeous face. If it was the only thing I ever saw in my life, I would be happy. He was magnificent.

  “Then by the powers vested in me by the state of Tennessee, I now pronounce you hitched! Kiss her, son, what are you waiting for?”

  Our laughter was swallowed by the kiss, once again fueling the passionate spark within me. With a blissful sigh, I forgot that
anything existed in the world but him. I drank him in, his taste, his scent, his everything.

  “Whoa there, kids! Gonna give some of these old folks a heart attack!” the preacher chuckled.

  Laughing, we broke apart and faced the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to present to you for the first time… Mr. And Mrs. Macintyre!”

  I virtually floated through the crowd, tingling with electric joy. Applause and flower petals swirled around me, but the only thing that mattered to me in that moment was Tyler. Once inside the house, he twirled me to face him, crushing my body to his in a passionate embrace. I couldn’t tell you how long we stood there basking in each other, tangling our tongues and arms and legs around each other, but the DJ started playing little snippets and bursts of music before we were finished.

  “I think that’s the not-so-subtle cue that we’re wanted in the ballroom,” Tyler chuckled in my ear.

  “Oh! Let’s dance!” I felt like a little kid, over-hyped and raring to move, bursting at the seams with my own energy.

  Tyler laughed as he followed me through the house to the ballroom. It had been the selling point of the house for me. What was the point of owning that much space if you couldn’t throw grand parties in it? Our friends and family applauded heartily, complete with whoops and wolf whistles as we swept into the room.

  “Hold on, hold on,” Tyler said, tugging on my arm. “Before we dance, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

  Puzzled, I followed him. I was certain that I had met everybody on his list; we had gone over the invitations a dozen times together. My eyes scanned the room, looking for any unfamiliar face, but I didn’t see one. Did he get me a puppy? God, I hoped not. There was no way I could take care of a puppy with my schedule, and—

  My thoughts were interrupted by the shock of my life.

  It was Tyler, thirty years older. The same handsome, chiseled face, a little softer under the chin and behind the ears, etched with pencil-thin lines around those astonishing emerald eyes and expressive mouth. He was the same height and build, even carried himself the same way. The primary difference was their hair. The older man’s hair was pure white, almost glowing, growing in a shaggy ’80s mop on his head. A small gold hoop glittered in one ear.