Wild About The Bodyguard

by Tabitha Robbins

  In the sparkling, chef-equipped kitchen, Ann poured two tumblers of ice-water. Sammy would have preferred a soda or beer. For a long time, Ann had been healthy to the point of obsession. She’d been on a glutton-free, fat-free, taste-free diet for years. Sammy wondered if her sister’s fixation with physical and mental wellbeing was a result of their mother’s illness. A fear of cancer.

  “How’s your tattoo friend,” Ann asked, inspecting a hanging basket of ripe pomegranates when they moved out onto the veranda.

  “Laycee’s good.”

  “I’m so glad she hasn’t talked you into getting one of those things.”

  Sammy didn’t bother to explain again. Laycee was proud of her profession—she took it seriously. She did not, however, cajole, pester or push people into getting inked.

  Taking a seat at the spotless outdoor setting, Sammy filled her lungs and got on topic. “I need to speak with you, Ann. About the ring.”

  Ann’s hand slipped away from the hanging basket at the same time she eased out a breath. “Oh, Sammy. You’re still not going on about that, are you?”

  “I need to know how that woman, Mrs. Garfield, came to own it. I’ve shown you the blowups from the net. It’s identical.”

  “Nothing’s original anymore.”

  “Mom thought that ring was. I do, too.”

  In her designer linen pants and cream silk shirt, Ann took a seat and held her sister’s hand. “I hate to see you wasting energy chasing butterflies. It was all so long ago.”

  Sammy squeezed her sister’s hand. “Ann, I went to the police.”

  Ann recoiled.

  Sammy got it. Her sister didn’t want people knocking on her door, stirring up memories. Anne was pissed that her sister could possibly put her in this position after all these years.

  Sammy explained. “They said they’d look into it. Thing is…they haven’t.”

  Ann’s manicured fingers scooped back a gleaming blond wave. “That’s that then.”

  “Not quite.” Sammy sat back. “I met someone.”

  Ann’s flawless face lit up. “Someone nice?”

  “Someone who wants to help me track down the ring.”

  “I don’t understand. A new boyfriend?”

  “A private investigator. Ex, actually. But he must think there’s something there or he wouldn’t waste his time asking questions.”

  Ann’s mouth tightened. “This man…is he taking your money in exchange for his services?”

  Sammy shut her eyes. Oh, Christ. “It’s not like that.” Chase wasn’t a scam artist.

  Ann’s voice lowered. “You’re sleeping with him then.”

  “That has nothing to do with it.”

  “Have you considered that he might be humoring you—”

  “I’m sure he isn’t.”

  “—because I don’t like to think of anyone taking advantage of my baby sister.”

  Sammy’s hand bunched in her lap. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

  Tipping forward, Ann cupped her sister’s cheek. “Honey, you’ll always be my kid sister. I’ll always want to look out for you.”

  Sammy knew it. But that wouldn’t stop her from following through on her own choices. Making her own decisions. Especially where the ring was concerned. She squared her shoulders.

  “I’d like the insurance papers, please.”

  Ann’s eyes narrowed before she got to her feet and, moving back to the basket, focused on her pomegranates. “I’ll see if I can dig them up.”

  “You’re the most organized person I know.” Ann knew precisely where those papers were. “I won’t take them. I’ll make a copy.” When Ann’s lips tightened, Sammy pointed out, “It was my ring, Ann.”

  Her sister’s eyes suddenly rimmed with moisture. She inhaled deeply and then let it out on a sigh. “It all makes me feel so…”

  “Helpless. I know.” Sammy joined her sister, held her cool, perfectly manicured hand. “We can’t bring Mom back but maybe we can find a way to right that other wrong.”

  Ann considered the roll of vintner fields unfolding in the distance.

  “This friend of yours,” she finally said. “Is he good at what he does?”

  Detective work? “I get the feeling Chase is very good.”

  Ann held her sister’s gaze for a long tense moment before a thin smile kicked up one side of her mouth and she nodded.

  “Okay. I’ll get the papers. And then, young lady,” she bopped Sammy’s nose, “I’ll fix you some lunch. And Sammy? Try to be nice to Richard. He really does like you, you know.”

  At that moment, Rick appeared, edging out onto the veranda. “Hey, Sammy,” he said with a weak smile tacked on his face as a breeze tugged through his scanty hair.

  Sammy forced her own smile while Ann piped up. “We were about to fix lunch.”

  “None for me,” Rick said, thrusting his hands in his pants pockets. “I have business in town.”

  Ann looked disappointed. Sammy was too. She’d wanted the chance to quiz Rick. But if he knew anything, if he was, in fact, responsible for the theft...what then? Would she actually press charges? She and Ann weren’t as close now as their mother would have liked, but they were still sisters. How could Sammy haul her brother-in-law into court? That would devastate Ann.

  As Rick nodded goodbye, Sammy spoke up. “I’ll be here a while,” she said. “I’ll probably still be here when you get back.” She’d make sure of it.

  After he’d gone, Ann linked her arm through Sammy’s. “I’ll get those papers and then we can talk about more pleasant things.”

  Ann found the insurance papers in her home office. When she left for the kitchen, Sammy set about copying the multi-page document. She also took it upon herself to have a sneak peek through some other files. She was glad that she had.

  Chapter 7

  Later that day, Sammy was ready and waiting outside of her condo when that familiar black sedan swerved into the curb. After a quick drive to SoMa, Chase parked in a lot at the corner of 3rd and Mission Rock. Before sliding out of the car, he grabbed a battered Giants cap off the dash.

  “You’ve had that a while,” Sammy noted as they strolled side by side to the park.

  Uncertain, he touched the peak. “You don’t like it?”

  “It’s great. It’s just, uh...falling apart. You know the brim’s hanging by threads.”

  “It’s also grubby and classic and fits my head like a glove. I’ve had it since my first game at the park with Taylor and Leo and our dads.” He exhaled. “Yeah. Good times.”

  This time when he tipped the peak, it detached in his hand. Stopping in his tracks, he stared down at the peak, open-mouthed.

  “Well, that sucks.”

  “It’s okay. It was time.” She rubbed his back. “Want to give it a proper burial?”

  He tucked it into his back pocket. “I’ll get it repaired.”

  Maybe he would. But Sammy bet he would simply put the cap away with other memories he might have kept over the years. After today’s find in her sister’s office, Sammy understood that sentiment better than ever.

  Inside club level was carpeted, classy and clean—a far cry from Sammy’s previous “get amongst it” experiences at a ballpark. The semi-roofed seats had an awesome view, but there were heaps of tables and chairs with monitors here undercover. Or, Sammy noted, people could simply watch through the glass barrier. A full bar and, further down, some baseball memorabilia…

  Oh, yeah. This was doin’ it in style.

  As they moved around folk discussing the upcoming final series, Chase slung an arm around her. Heat washed over her like a warm welcome tide. She was still floating after their time together yesterday in her kitchen and then shower. She’d been hanging out for today, for this game, but mostly for the surprise dessert Chase had promised.

  “Remind me to show you the stuff from the World Series and the trophy from Matt Cain’s perfect game,” he said. “A couple of years ago, Cain retired twenty-seven batters—”


  “And tallied fourteen strike-outs. He’s also the only pitcher to ever score a run in his perfect game.”

  Chase held his heart. “I’m in love.”

  He was joking. The tease sounded surprisingly good, just the same.

  “You hungry?” he asked as they wove through the nattering crowd.

  “I could go a California roll.”

  They grabbed sushi and took a seat.

  “Where are your cousins tonight?” Sammy asked, pulling in her chair. Chase had mentioned they might meet them here. The thought had made her a little nervous; she might come across as super confident but that was mainly about pushing her own comfort zones; she had insecurities like the rest of the world. Some were even of the opinion that actors were introverted souls.

  “Taylor’s busy putting together some deal or other,” Chase said.

  “Sounds impressive.”

  “He’s a professional investor.”

  Her date looked amazing in a black polo shirt. While she quietly eyed that vee of exposed chest directly below the strong column of his throat, Chase snapped his chopsticks apart.

  “He’s done well, too,” he added.

  “How well?”

  “Disgustingly, makes you want to gag, well. Don’t know what Leo’s up to. I called earlier. He didn’t phone back.”

  “You’re worried?”

  “Leo’s a black belt. If you want to know how to turn your body into a lethal weapon in seventeen not-so-easy steps, he’s your man. I pity anyone who ever tries to get the better of him.”

  “So, no disagreements with that cousin?”

  “Leo’s not an aggressive soul, as such, unless you count in business. Then he’ll clamp onto the jugular every time.”

  A trio of Wild alpha men. Sammy would like to see them standing shoulder to shoulder. “Do you look alike?”

  “There’s a resemblance.”

  “Like tall and built and oozing sex appeal?”

  Pouring some dipping soy, he grinned crookedly. “And you wonder why I like you.”

  All Sammy knew was she sure as hell liked him.

  She selected a piece from the serving plate. “So, the common denominator between you three is your dads?”

  “My father’s the oldest of three brothers. The families still get together for holidays. Christmas, Thanksgiving.”

  When her stomach gave a twinge, Sammy hesitated dipping sushi into her soy. She hoped her smile wasn’t too wistful. She hadn’t had a real family Christmas in ten years.

  He considered her before selecting his own piece from the serving platter. “Do you have any family other than your sister?”

  “Not unless you count Rick...and I don’t.” She apologized. “That sounds snarky.”

  “Under the circumstances, I understand.”

  “I never purposely set out to irritate anyone. Just Rick rubs me the wrong way.” Sammy had wondered whether she’d once been jealous of him for “stealing” her sister away from her—but that wasn’t it.

  “I’m an advocate of trusting one’s instincts,” Chase said. “Did you go up to see them today?”

  “Rick made an excuse and scurried away. I wanted to hang around till he got back so I could subtly quiz him, but it got too late.”

  In P.I. mode again, his gaze narrowed. “Did you get the insurance papers?”

  “Copies. I felt a little guilty, but I looked through Ann’s other files, too.”

  “Anything interesting?”

  “Only a bunch of old Christmas cards. Mom used to spend ages choosing them. She loved to get just the right verse. Ann and I would always make our own. Made our own decorations, too. Lame stuff like colored paper chains and cut-outs of bells and snowmen.”

  His smile was soft. “Not so lame.”

  “You’re being kind.”

  “You’re speaking with a home renovator. We love creating our own, piecing it all together.”

  Sammy bit her bottom lip to contain the grin. He was being kind...but also sincere. Double bonus.

  “Are there any kids in your family?” she asked, setting her sticks down as an excited couple took the neighboring table.

  “On my mom’s side. An aunt has teenage girls.”

  “Ann and Rick haven’t had kids. She doesn’t say anything about it, and I don’t ask.” Sammy felt as if she ought to make an excuse. “It’s a big responsibility.”

  “The biggest.”

  “It’s hard enough working it all out for yourself, right? Life, I mean.”

  “And you have to make sure you’ll be around for the long haul.”

  When his gaze grew distant, Sammy wasn’t sure she understood. “Your parents are divorced?”

  He focused again. “I didn’t mean that.”

  Before he could explain, or she could ask, the far off roar of the crowd filtered through the area and Chase pushed to his feet.

  “Warm-up’s over.” He put out his hand. “Let’s play ball.”

  Later, Chase ushered “Giants done us proud” Sammy in through the internal entry of his garage. He flicked on the lights before moving into the kitchen, which had obviously been lovingly renovated by a skilled hand. Spacious, tasteful and sparkling clean.

  Crossing her arms, she looked around, grinning. “You’re a perfectionist.”

  “In some things.” He set down his car keys. “Most things.”

  She could testify to that in the making love department. She couldn’t wait for “dessert.”

  She surveyed the polished floors, the freshly-painted walls, and cocked a brow. “Want to show me what you’re working on at the moment?”

  “Assure me first. You don’t shrink at the sight of sawdust or peeling wallpaper?”

  She put on a stoic face. “I can take it.”

  They moved through to the living room. As finished and buffed as the kitchen had been, this room was definitely a work in progress. The wooden floor was dull and scratched. Bare beams lined three of four walls. A wooden workhorse was corralled to one side. Dead center sat a worktable littered with bits and pieces.

  She lifted an odd looking pair of pliers. “Tell me these are strictly for…” She angled her head. “Uh, what are they for exactly?”

  “I’m putting together a stained glass panel.”

  She spotted a stencil highlighting the words Chase’s Place.

  Okay. Yeah.

  “I like it,” she said.

  When he came in extra close, she sighed as his heat and scent enveloped her. They’d sat close all through the game, but now they weren’t surrounded by 40,000 other mad Giants supporters. They were blissfully, finally alone.

  When he collected a piece of crafted glass and held it up to the light, prisms of red shifted across his handsome, upturned face. “I thought maybe this would be—you know—too much.”

  “I think it’ll be incredible.” Looking up into the glass, too, she held his arm, which was warm and deliciously buff. “Where’s it going? In a bar?”

  “Over the front door.”

  Cool. If the kitchen was any indication, when the house was fully renovated, it would be nothing short of amazing.

  “You’re full of surprises,” she said.

  Setting aside the glass, he admitted, “I have a few special ones up my sleeve just for you.”

  Wrapping her up in his arms, he claimed the long, unhurried kiss she had ached for all night.

  As his mouth fused with hers, her bones liquefied. His tongue eased past her lips, sweeping once before falling into a heavenly rhythm. Her breasts suddenly felt fuller and a telltale pulse kicked off in her core. When he urged her closer still, his mouth angled more and all those soul-lifting stirrings notched up a few stunning degrees.

  At the same time she craned up on tiptoes and her arms coiled around his neck, the palm pressing on the small of her back ventured lower. As those fingers filed over one side of her butt, his mouth gradually left hers.

  On a dreamy smile, she nipped his lower lip. “You don�
�t waste any time, do you?”

  Cupping her cheek, he searched her eyes. “You never know how much time you might have left.”

  Chapter 8

  When he blinked open his eyes the next morning, Chase was greeted by the sight of Sammy spread out beside him. The sheet was loosely draped over her body. One leg hung over the side of the bed and her mouth was open. Wide.

  She was snoring. Not a delicate rattle of air pulled into and then out of her lungs. She was chugging like a coal train. Chase rubbed one side of his grin. How in the world had he slept through that racket?

  Most likely because he’d been completely satisfied. They’d enjoyed a tearaway final series game, followed by the hottest sex of his life. The sizzle had alternated with tamer spells throughout the night...episodes that had, in one way or another, involved salted caramel ice cream. If only every day could be so good.

  Now, when he leaned across and oh-so-lightly dropped a kiss on her warm brow and breathed in her natural earthy scent, Sammy stirred. Her mouth snapped shut, her leg swung up and the snoring stopped. For a second.

  As that motor kicked in again, Chase curled an arm around her pillowed head. He wouldn’t tell her about this grizzly bear serenade. Like he wouldn’t mention that she might be tone deaf. When she’d sung along to the radio during the drive home the previous night, at first he’d thought she was joking—being a comedian. Before he’d laughed out loud, thank God he’d realized that her eyes had been closed; she’d been feeling the words to her soul. The song had been about love and loss...a familiar theme, and one with which Sammy obviously shared a great deal.

  Chase had lost someone, too. Not a parent. A good friend who should still be walking around today. If not for him, Will Spencer’s wife would still have a husband. Will’s son would still have his dad.

  When Sammy stirred again, he watched her face as she drifted up from her dreams. Then her eyes dragged open and understanding dawned before she turned toward him and softly smiled. Stretching like a cat, she curled up against him. With her nose and breasts pressed into him, she mumbled something about it being Sunday and sleeping in.