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

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Protect Me - A Steamy Bodyguard Romance (You Can't Resist a Bad Boy Book 5) Page 49

by Layla Valentine


  But neither of those things has happened. The few texts I’ve sent have gotten ‘sorry, busy’ responses. Judging by the overtime hours Frank’s been working and his daily visits to the gym, he also hasn’t been seeing Violet. But is she avoiding us? That’s what I really want to know.

  Forgoing my mom’s number, I call Violet’s instead.

  “Hi,” she answers in a pleasant voice.

  So far, so good.

  “How are you?”

  There’s the sound of a door closing. “Good. How are you?”

  “Great. I might have just found the garage to put my repair shop in.”

  “Sean, that’s great!”

  “Yeah.” I smile to myself. “Hey, what are you doing tonight? I was thinking maybe I could take you out to dinner. You know, to celebrate.”

  It’s a bad cover, but fuck. I’m only so creative.

  Silence. Too much silence.

  My mind races. I’ve said the wrong thing. Violet’s gonna know that I want more than sex from her…maybe even more than friendship.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  “That sounds nice,” she finally says. “But I’m really busy.”

  “Oh. Right. Of course.” The words leave a sour taste on my tongue.

  “Also, I’ve been tracking my cycle these past few months, and this is my most infertile time. It probably wouldn’t take right now.”

  Her words are a knife right in the center of my chest. I suck in a breath, willing the pain to go away. It doesn’t.

  I open my mouth, thinking about telling her I just wanted to spend some time together, but then close it. That would be a dumb move. We have an agreement, and it’s not up to me to break it.

  “Right,” I say, staccato-like. “That’s cool. Well, I’m going to Kahuku next week, and I’ll be gone for a few weeks.”

  “Oh.” She sounds disappointed, but maybe I’m imagining it. “Have a good trip. I guess I’ll see you when you get back.”

  My ears buzz. This phone call needs to end. Now.

  “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Okay,” Violet says. “Have a good—”

  I hang up before she can finish and cover my eyes with my palm. What the fuck was I thinking, calling her up and asking to hang out? I should have known I’d get shot down.

  This is all wrong. I’m not supposed to be into Violet in this way…A way that I’ve never been into any woman. Without warning, her popping back up in my life has me rethinking everything. The house in the country. The life of one-night stands. The years spent without children, without a wife by my side.

  It doesn’t matter that she’s the only person I can see myself spending the rest of my life with. I can’t have her. She’s made that perfectly clear.

  With nausea rising, I put my phone away and face the truth. Once Violet gets a positive pregnancy test, things will go back to the way they’ve been the last eleven years. What I want doesn’t matter one bit.

  “Sorry about that.” Donnie’s voice makes me jump.

  “That’s all right,” I answer, my voice thick and weird.

  “Well, what do you think?”

  I give the building another good look.

  This is what my life’s about. This shop. My goals. I can’t get caught up in wishing things were different. I can’t get caught up in her.

  “I like it,” I say. “Let’s talk money.”

  Chapter 18

  Violet

  I worry my thumb over the gallery keys as the painters haul in their ladders and cans of pure white. Each step they take makes me wince.

  “This is going to look so good,” Kaila says.

  I just nod. The collection has all been moved into the back rooms in preparation for the painting job, but for some reason I can’t stop freaking out. I have this weird fear a ladder will fall and shatter a window, or a light fixture will break, or anything else that can go wrong will go wrong.

  “Let’s get coffee,” I announce, only because I can’t handle watching the tenuous scene.

  Kaila looks worried. “Don’t we need to be here to watch them?”

  “We’ll watch from across the street.”

  It’s a beautiful day—as good as they get—so after we order our iced lattes, we grab one of the few little tables in front of the coffee shop. Sure enough, we can see the painters through the gallery’s windows. The sun’s glint prohibits making out specific details, but at least we can tell nothing too disastrous is happening.

  “Hey, have you heard from Sean or Frank?” Kaila winds a strand of hair around her finger and bites down on her lip in excitement.

  Though I’d expected her to be less than keen to hear any details about my threesome with the guys, as it turned out, Kaila loved the whole story. Though it’s been four weeks since it happened, she’s still asking me random questions about it.

  “No,” I tartly answer, shaking my plastic cup so the ice clinks around. “But if I’m not pregnant by now, I have to start considering that something might be wrong with me.”

  “Or them. They could have really low sperm counts.” Kaila hunches her shoulders and looks around to see if anyone heard such a scandalous statement.

  I shrug. “I’ll try again, I guess.”

  Even though I don’t like that idea at all. Trying again means putting myself in the same fragile position I was before. Though I did everything I could to ensure I didn’t fall for Sean, it happened anyway. Some old habits really do die hard.

  “Frank’s been called back into service,” I say, my eyes on the front entrance of the gallery. “So he’s out.”

  “Oh. Well, you can still use Sean.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  I give Kaila a serious look, no words necessary. She already knows all about how hooking up with Sean messed with both my head and heart. I want a baby, but not if I have to lose my sanity in order to get one.

  “Hm.” Kaila picks at her cup’s lid, looking glum.

  My cellphone rings, and I dig it out of my purse. Mom.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  “Hi, Violet. Are you at work?”

  “Yeah, but the gallery is being repainted. What’s up?”

  “There is this dinner tonight at Jeanette’s house. Do you remember her? She works the front desk at the office.”

  “Kind of.” I glance over at Kaila, who’s busy reading something on her phone.

  “Her nephew, Kyle, will be there. You don’t know him, but he’s in law school.”

  “Ah.”

  Usually, I’d get pissed at my mom for trying to set me up, but today I feel different. I had thought some space from Frank and Sean—especially Sean—was what I needed. But taking it has left me feeling empty. Like it or not, maybe I really do want a man in my life.

  “Have you met him?” I ask.

  “Uh-huh, and he’s so polite!” Mom sings. “He’s blond. You like blond guys, don’t you?”

  I actually have a thing for redheads, but I don’t want to think about that.

  “Depends on the guy, but sure,” I agree.

  Kaila puts her phone down, eyeing me.

  “Good. Come over about six and we can drive there together. He’ll be so happy to meet you.”

  “Okay. See you then.”

  As soon as I hang up, reality smacks me in the face. What am I doing?

  Suppose I do go to this dinner and I hit it off with this guy. We start dating, and then what? If I turn out to be pregnant, what will that mean for our relationship?

  But if I’m not…

  My head spins.

  “What did you mom want?” Kaila asks.

  “She wants to set me up with a guy.” I gulp. “But I need to cancel it.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yeah. Of course. What if I’m pregnant? I can’t date. What if I find a guy I like? Do you really think he’ll stay around if I’m carrying a baby that isn’t his?”

  “The right guy will,” Kaila flatly says. “If it’s lov
e, then things will work out.”

  I look down at my hands, knowing she’s right.

  But I still think I’m going to face my mother’s wrath and cancel.

  “How was Mr. Mochi’s obedience class?” I ask, needing to change the subject.

  Kaila gives me a look that says we’ll be returning to the dating conversation soon. I’m not getting off that easy.

  “He’s really bad. Or maybe I am. I don’t know… It took, like, forever just to get him to sit.”

  “I’m sure he’ll get better,” I laugh. “With classes that expensive, they have to work, right?”

  “Right,” she guffaws.

  I take a sip of my latte, but something tastes off.

  “What?” Kaila asks.

  “It tastes…different.”

  “Mine is fine.”

  I shrug. “Come on. I guess we should get back, in case the painters have any questions.”

  We check for traffic, and then scurry across the street. As soon as I step into the gallery, the intense smell of fresh paint hits, and my stomach rolls right over.

  “Ugh.” I cover my mouth and nose.

  “It’s strong, all right,” Kaila agrees, sipping away on her latte like the paint’s scent is anything but repugnant.

  My stomach writhes again, and this time, it’s not just nausea. There’s something else coming up as well.

  “Oh my God,” I gasp, rushing across the gallery.

  I barely make it to the bathroom in time. Shutting the door behind me, I collapse on the floor and vomit into the toilet.

  There’s a knock on the door. “Violet? Are you okay?”

  I hurl again, my body shaking with the force. Gasping for air, I sit back on my haunches.

  “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  Wiping my mouth clean with some tissue, I close my eyes and lean against the wall. My stomach feels stable now, the nausea completely gone. I can feel the sweat running down my forehead, though, and I’m exhausted.

  Wait…

  Getting up onto shaky feet, I open the door. “I just threw up,” I announce.

  Kaila’s jaw drops. “Do you think…”

  The coffee. The paint fumes. Those things have never made me feel sick before.

  My heart races as I go into my office, Kaila following.

  “Maybe.”

  I don’t want to get my hopes up. I’ve done that too many times, and it never leads anywhere good.

  “What should we do?” Kaila frantically asks. “Should I get a test? Should we get you out of here? What if the paint is bad for the baby?”

  “Calm down,” I answer, speaking not just to her, but to myself as well.

  My stomach might be calm, but my legs are shaking. I take a seat behind my desk and inhale, nice and long.

  I’m still freaked out. Excited. Scared.

  Kaila presses her lips together and quietly watches me.

  What do I do first?

  I should take another pregnancy test before I call my doctor. But before I even do that, there’s something else I want to do. Someone I need to speak to.

  “I need to see Sean,” I whisper, my eyes stinging with the beginnings of tears.

  “But you said you didn’t want him involved.”

  “I know,” I gasp. “I thought I wouldn’t.”

  “Do you think it’s his?” Kaila whispers.

  I gulp.

  “I don’t know. I just know that I…I need to tell him about this.”

  Why, I don’t know. We already agreed he wouldn’t be involved. He has no interest in having a kid—not with me.

  But that doesn’t stop every cell in my body from screaming the truth: I need to see Sean. It’s unexplainable, but right now, he’s the only person who matters.

  Chapter 19

  Sean

  The sound of my phone ringing pierces my skull. Groaning, I roll over and reach across the bedside table, but my fingers close around empty air.

  “Christ.”

  Sitting up, I rub my eyes and look around the simple room at my uncle’s little guesthouse. The morning sun streams in through the windows, casting a golden glow on the furniture. The phone rings on and on, crying for my attention.

  Kicking off the sheets, I stumble off the futon and around the room. Finally, I locate the phone on top of my duffel bag.

  At the name on the screen, my chest squeezes.

  “Hello?” I quickly answer, afraid I’ve already missed Violet’s call.

  “Sean?” Her voice sounds so small and far away. It doesn’t matter that we’re on the same island.

  “Is everything okay?”

  My throat closes up as a dozen possibilities run through my head.

  I haven’t heard from Violet in a month. The only thing we have in common anymore is our moms are best friends. As far as the baby, well, I kind of settled into the belief that that might not be happening.

  Phone pressed to my ear, I glance out the window, at the main house. There’s no sign of anything amiss. If something had happened to one of my parents, Uncle Jim would know by now.

  Violet takes a long time answering. “Everything is fine, I think.”

  “What do you mean you think?”

  I don’t mean to bark at Violet, but she has me going crazy. Weeks without talking, and now she calls me up out of the blue. Having Frank leave suddenly was bad enough, and now I’ve had to deal with not seeing her anymore, either.

  “I think I’m pregnant.”

  The news steals my next breath. I stand frozen, not sure what to say.

  “Yeah,” she says after another moment. “I know.”

  That draws a slight chuckle from me. “Well, uh, congratulations.”

  It sounds all wrong on my tongue. If she is pregnant and it is mine, then I shouldn’t be saying ‘congrats’ over the phone. I should be there with her.

  Even if the baby’s not mine, I should be there with her.

  These last few weeks of hanging out at my aunt and uncle’s beach house, riding, surfing, and shooting the shit with cousins have been nothing like they usually are. I just can’t enjoy myself anymore. Everything has changed. Something is missing.

  Violet.

  “I’m on my way,” I say.

  “Wait…what? No, you don’t have to come here. Aren’t you—”

  “Where are you?” I grab some pants and yank them on.

  “I’m at the gallery, but—”

  “Don’t go anywhere.”

  I hang up before she can protest further and I can chicken out. My hands are shaking as I finish getting dressed and grab my things. I’ve been so dumb. The reason I never wanted to settle down was because I never found the right woman…because it turned out the perfect girl for me was under my nose all along.

  I know it’s more than possible that Violet doesn’t feel the same way. I’m not a dumbass. She told me weeks ago that this was a no-strings-attached situation. But I have to take a chance and be honest about my deal. If I don’t, I’ll spend the rest of my life hating myself for not going for it when I could have.

  A baby.

  Images of a toddler running around, giggling with a squeaky voice fill my head as I race down the highway, keeping an eye out for cops as I push my bike over the speed limit. My parents would be so happy.

  I would be so happy.

  I swallow down the ball of tension in my throat. It’s all up to Violet. If she still doesn’t want me to be involved, there’s nothing I can do about it.

  On the outskirts of Honolulu, I spot a drugstore and veer into its parking lot. Inside, I rush down the aisles. Finding the pregnancy tests, I scoop up as many as will fit in my arms. The older lady at the checkout counter raises an eyebrow.

  “Are these all for one person?” she asks, scanning the rectangular boxes and dropping them in a plastic bag.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I nod in affirmation.

  With a bag full of tests in my hand, I hop back on the bike and tear out of the lot. The closer I get to the
gallery, the more nervous I become. By the time I’m parked and walking through the door, I feel like I might throw up.

  “Hello?” I call into the empty space.

  The place is barren, with the door propped open and decorating supplies replacing the regular art.

  I walk across the gallery. “Hello? Violet?”

  Her office door flies open, and, suddenly, she’s only a couple feet away from me. For a long second, we just stare at each other. She’s paler than I remember, with slight bags under her eyes—but none of that takes away from her beauty.

  Her long lashes slowly blink. I’m burning to reach for her, but I stay where I am, arms pressed against my sides so they don’t do something stupid.

  “Hey,” I breathe.

  “Hi.”

  I clear my throat, and it echoes in the empty gallery. “You’re here alone?”

  “The painters are on their lunch break, and Kaila is running an errand. They’ll all be back soon.”

  “It’s been a while,” I say, then try not to make a face over the stupid comment.

  Violet slowly nods. “Yeah. I’ve been…”

  “Busy?”

  Her eyes slide away from mine.

  “I was going to say that, but it’s been more than that.”

  Like you hate me and never want to see me again?

  “Violet, listen, about the last time we saw each other…”

  She looks at me expectantly, but I end up shifting my weight around rather than saying anything. I don’t know what to say about that night with Frank. I’m fine with what happened. It was great, actually. I’m just not fine with spending weeks afterward not talking to the one woman who’s ever meant something to me.

  “Do you regret it?” she asks.

  “No,” I quickly say. “Not at all.”

  “It might have been the night that got me pregnant.”

  I gulp. With whose kid? Mine, or Frank’s?

  Again, I’m surprised to realize it doesn’t matter. I want to be a part of this baby’s life, no matter who its biological dad is.

  Violet smiles, but it’s tight and doesn’t last long.

  “What do you have there?” She nods at the bag in my hand, ignoring my question.

  “Pregnancy tests.” I open the plastic bag to show her, and she laughs.

 

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