Undercover Bodyguard

by Shirlee McCoy

  “It’s about time you two showed up. We’ve been swamped since we opened. People coming in and asking me a million questions about you and your house. Asking me if you were alive or dead. The nerve! That’s what I told them, too. The nerve!” Dottie said as she handed a white box to a customer.

  “Sorry. Things took longer than we expected.” Shelby grabbed an apron from a hook near the register and put it on. The cake still needed work, but she couldn’t leave Dottie and Rae with lines ten customers long. Besides, running into the back and hiding from the gawking patrons wouldn’t change what had happened. It certainly wouldn’t fix her house.

  “It’s been fine, Shelby. Dottie is just grumpy because she’s been worrying about you. She made me drive her by your place to see how bad the damage was, and she nearly had a heart attack,” Zane said as he filled a box with frosted-yellow chocolate cupcakes.

  “The house can be replaced,” Shelby responded, and Dottie frowned.

  “But you can’t. You could have died in that fire, just like poor Maureen. And you!” She pointed a gnarled finger at Ryder. “You’re fired. I’m shipping my girl off to Europe for a month, so you’re not needed anymore. Maybe by the time she gets back the police will have caught the guy who’s trying to kill her.” Dottie rang up another customer, shoving a half-dozen chocolate-chip cookies into a box and passing it to the wide-eyed, gap-jawed young woman who’d just paid.

  “I can’t go to Europe. I have a business to run and a cake to deliver to a wedding tonight.” Shelby grabbed a dozen apple Danishes from the display case and packaged them for a regular customer.

  “Forget the wedding and the business, doll. I promised your grandmother that I’d look out for you if she died before I did, and that’s what I’m doing. I have money socked away. Enough to send you first-class to Paris. Maybe you’ll meet some gorgeous French guy, and—”

  “You’ll have to buy two tickets, Dottie. Once you hire me, I can’t be fired,” Ryder responded as Shelby rang up the customer.

  “Maybe if you were doing a better job, I wouldn’t have to fire you,” Dottie griped, and the customer offered Shelby a sympathetic smile before walking away.

  Shelby filled another order as Dottie and Ryder discussed plans for her life, and she didn’t say a word. What good would it do? Both were as stubborn and hardheaded as mules. Besides, she didn’t know what she could add to the conversation. She had no idea how to keep herself safe or how to end the nightmare she’d somehow found herself in.

  She rang up another order and then left the service area. Silent and comforting, the kitchen offered the solace she needed. She grabbed the sugar flowers and rolled the chilled cakes out of the fridge, frosting and assembling the first two layers quickly. One large round, then another smaller round. She piped abstract swirls on the buttercream, using a pastry bag and white decorator icing that added depth and dimension to the cake.

  “It’s beautiful.” Ryder’s words cut through the silence, and Shelby screamed, whirling around, icing squirting from the end of the piping bag onto the front of her apron.

  “You did it again! I told you not to keep sneaking up on me.”

  “Sorry about that. You okay?” He took the piping bag and wiped icing from her apron, his hand swiping her abdomen, spreading heat with every touch.

  She stepped back and bumped the counter, her cheeks heating as Ryder smiled.

  He knew exactly what his touch did to her.

  “I’m busy. There’s a lot to do before we can transport this cake.” She turned back to her work, the skin on the back of her neck burning as his gaze swept over her.

  “How can I help?”

  “Go back up front and help in the service area.” She finished the last piped swirl and lifted a flower, gently pushing the stem through buttercream and cake.

  “Not a possibility. Dottie threatened me with bodily injury if I got within ten feet of her.” He lifted a delicate lily of the valley and held it out to her, his long, tan fingers gentle on the gum-paste bloom.

  “I can’t believe a guy like you would be afraid of a woman like Dottie.”

  “I’m not afraid of her. I’m afraid of what it will mean for us if she decides she doesn’t like me. I know how close the two of you are.” He handed her another flower, and Shelby placed it on the top tier, not daring to meet Ryder’s eyes.

  “There is no us.”

  “If you say so, Shelby Ann.” He took a flower from the tray, placed it next to the one she’d already affixed to the cake.

  “I do.” But she wasn’t sure she meant it.

  “Why? Because of a couple of failed attempts at love with a couple of guys who didn’t deserve you? Are you really going to let them steal your possibilities?” He stepped closer, looking down into her eyes as if he could read the truth there.

  “I’m not letting them steal anything. Now, if you don’t mind, I really do have to work. Since you can’t go up front without facing the wrath of Dottie, how about you sit in my office while I finish this? We need to leave here in less than an hour.”

  “Your office is a closet, and I think I’d rather watch you work.”

  “I’d rather you not,” she muttered as she placed another flower on the cake.

  You’re not going to let them steal your possibilities.

  His words spun through her mind as she placed another flower and another.

  She didn’t have time to dwell on his assessment of her life. She needed to completely cover the top tier of the cake with sugar blossoms before she transported it. That had to be her one and only focus, but the next flower she lifted broke, her grip too tight, her concentration shot.

  “Better be careful, Shelby. We’re not going to have time to make replacement flowers,” he said.

  “It wouldn’t have broken if you weren’t standing there staring at me.”

  “Watching. There’s a big difference between that and staring.”

  “Watching. Staring. Who cares? All I know is that you’re making me nervous.” The words slipped out, and her cheeks heated again.

  “There are lots of things you should be nervous about. I’m not one of them.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion.” She placed another flower, filling in the last of the top tier and carefully placing it in a box. One more tier, and she’d be ready to go. Out of the kitchen, out in the fresh air where she could breathe without catching a whiff of Ryder’s masculine scent.

  She began piping the third layer, squirted a line too thick and had to scrape it off and begin again.

  “Want some help?” Ryder asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

  “It’s not funny, Ryder.”

  “I’m not laughing.” He took the piping bag from her hands and set it on the counter, smoothing his palms up her arms until they cupped her biceps.

  “I have to finish,” she protested, but she didn’t reach for the bag, couldn’t stop looking into his dark eyes.

  “You have time.”

  “Not for this.”

  “There’s always time for this,” he murmured, leaning down so they were a breath apart. “Because there’s something you don’t seem to understand and that I need to explain. You are everything a man could want. Soft and sweet and strong and brave. The two failures you keep telling me about. They weren’t yours, and when we finally have time for us, there isn’t going to be another one.”

  “Ryder—” Her breath caught as he touched the corner of her mouth, traced a line from there to the hollow of her throat.

  “Are you still nervous? Or is something else making your heart beat so fast?”

  “Both.”

  “I hope that that something else is me.” His lips brushed hers, light, easy. She sighed because she couldn’t do anything else. Not protest. N
ot pull back. Not think of one reason why she shouldn’t enjoy the moment.

  He tugged her closer, and she went willingly, her arms sliding around his waist as he deepened the kiss, carried her away from the shop and the cake and all the worries that had been weighing her down.

  “You’re supposed to be her bodyguard, Malone. Not her hunk of burnin’ love.” Dottie’s voice was like a splash of ice water in the face, and Shelby jumped back.

  “Don’t you have customers to help, Dottie?” Ryder asked, his tone gruff and raw.

  That would have made Shelby feel better about her heaving breaths if Dottie hadn’t been glowering at her.

  “We cleared the crowd, and I thought I’d give Shelby a hand getting this cake out the door, but apparently she’s less worried about that than I thought.”

  “I’m almost finished.” Shelby lifted the piping bag and added a loose swirl to the side of the tier, her hand shaking so much she almost made another blob instead.

  “You would have been finished if you’d kept your mind on the job.” Dottie motioned for Ryder to grab the two layers Shelby had already assembled. “Let’s get these out to the car while she finishes the last tier. You know this wedding is at a park, right?”

  “It was on the schedule. Manito Park. The Japanese gardens, and I’ve already got my men doing a sweep of the area.”

  “Humph.” Dottie seemed less than impressed by Ryder’s preparedness. “Let’s move, then. Time is ticking away, and the wedding reception isn’t going to wait for you to arrive.”

  “We still have time, Dottie,” Shelby said, but Dottie was too busy bustling Ryder from the room to hear her.

  Shelby finished the tier quickly, her hand steadier as she piped swirls, placed flowers and boxed it up.

  Done.

  And she’d still be leaving on time.

  Despite the kiss.

  She lifted the cake box, balancing it carefully as she grabbed extra icing, and started to walk out of the kitchen.

  “Wait.” Ryder grabbed her arm as he walked back in, pulling her to a stop, his phone pressed to his ear.

  “No. Sorry. Go ahead.” He listened silently to the speaker, his gaze never leaving Shelby. “Good. I’m glad to hear that. Thanks, Sheriff.” He hung up, took the box from her hand.

  “Ready to go?”

  “Yes. What did the sheriff say?”

  “Mostly what we’ve already heard. The police investigated Peterson after Catharine contacted them, but the evidence against her was compelling and Peterson had an alibi for at least two of the murders. That took him off the suspect list. His name came up during the investigation into Maureen’s murder, though, and he admitted to meeting with her twice.”

  “So, he’s a suspect again?”

  “He’s a person of interest, but there’s really no evidence that he had anything to do with Maureen’s murder. He was home the entire night before the explosion. His wife is willing to testify to that.”

  “He wasn’t the man I saw that morning. I’m sure of that, and if that guy is the one coming after me, I don’t think we can accuse Peterson of murdering Maureen.”

  “It’s not as difficult as you might think to hire someone to do your dirty work. You can buy almost anything for the right price. Even someone’s death.”

  “But Peterson wouldn’t have any reason to want me dead, Ryder. I have nothing that would lead the police to him. I’d never even met him before today.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s not connected to the attacks. If he hired someone to murder Maureen, and if you saw that person on your way to Maureen’s house, he might want to make sure you can’t point the finger at him.”

  “So, Peterson doesn’t want me dead, the assassin he hired does?”

  “It’s possible. We won’t know for sure until we find the guy. Wait here. I’m going to put this in the Hummer, and then I’m going to escort you out.” Ryder walked out the bakery door, and Shelby didn’t even bother arguing with him. There were a lot of things she didn’t know and a lot of things she wasn’t sure about, but she knew Ryder was good at what he did, and she knew she’d be an idiot not to let him do it.

  She watched as he carried the cake outside, his muscles rippling as he set the box in the back of the Hummer. He turned, his half smile making her stomach flip.

  Everything about him made her stomach flip, her heart sing, her soul yearn.

  If it had only been those things that drew her to him, she would have been fine. Chemistry, physical attraction, stick any name on it you wanted, and it was the same. Fleeting and shallow. Not something to build forever on.

  But it wasn’t only those things that drew her to him.

  She liked Ryder.

  Liked how he argued with Dottie, but still did what she asked. Liked the way he stuck to his promises and the way he lived his faith. Liked that he seemed to like her just the way she was. No trying to change her. No telling her she needed to be different. Just wanting her to be her.

  That was a powerful gift to give someone, and Shelby didn’t know if she had the strength to turn it away.

  “Okay. We’re set.” He took her arm, led her into the cool spring day, his body shielding her from the street the way it always did, offering his life to keep her safe.

  Another gift, and thinking about it made her throat clog and her heart beat faster.

  “Ryder,” she said as she climbed into the Hummer, and he waited, his hand on the door, his eyes staring straight into hers.

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  He nodded and closed the door.

  Maybe he knew what she meant.

  Maybe he didn’t.

  Hopefully, Shelby would have a chance to explain. Hopefully, neither of them would die before then.

  She prayed they wouldn’t, clutching the extra icing and box of flowers as Ryder pulled away from the bakery and headed for Manito Park.

  NINETEEN

  Watching Shelby work was an addiction Ryder couldn’t afford to give in to. Not when her life depended on him staying focused.

  He scanned the Japanese gardens as she covered a long table with a white cloth and set a fancy-looking silver cake stand on top of it. A hundred yards away, Darius watched the entrance of the gardens, his attention focused, his body taut. Knowing him, he was hoping for some action.

  Ryder wanted nothing more than to get Shelby back to his place and lock her away there. She wasn’t safe out in the open, and he should have refused to bring her to the park, but part of his job was to get clients where they needed to be and to keep them safe there. He’d done it dozens of times before, and this time shouldn’t be any different.

  Shelby made it different, though.

  Protecting her was personal. Keeping her safe was personal.

  He scanned the gardens again, his attention caught by a movement to his right. A man and his son passed by, probably heading home before dusk, the park’s posted closing time.

  He paced to a small bridge that arched over a stream, searching for signs of tampering, but his team had been thorough. The garden was pristine, the serenity of it tempting him to believe that everything would go just the way he’d planned.

  Easy in.

  Easy out.

  No trouble.

  The sun hung low in the sky, dusk falling as the park grew quiet and Shelby continued her work. Despite the peacefulness of the evening, Ryder’s hackles were raised, his skin prickling as darkness spread through the garden.

  A candlelit wedding was a nice idea unless someone wanted you dead. Then it became a hazard, shadows growing long and undulating in the evening breeze as a crew quietly set up rows of chairs and readied the gardens for the ceremony.

  “Okay. That
’s it. It’s as good as it’s going to get.” Shelby stepped away from the cake, completely oblivious to anything but her work, but Ryder felt something in the air, a breathless waiting quality that put him on edge.

  Someone was watching.

  He signaled Darius and Lionel Matthews, and they slid into the shadows, going on the hunt for the hunter.

  “Good. Let’s go.” He took Shelby’s hand, pulling her away from the cake, Lincoln Stanley slipping into place behind them. One of the newest team members, Lincoln moved silently, weaving through the arriving wedding guests, then disappearing as he scouted the path back to the Hummer.

  “I can’t leave until the bride and groom get here. The cake—”

  “No one is going to touch the cake, Shelby Ann, but I’m not liking the way things are starting to feel, so we’re taking off.”

  “But—” She tried to protest, but he dragged her from the cake and across the small bridge.

  Up ahead, Darius appeared, giving an all-clear signal and then slipping into thick woods beside the path. Something wasn’t right. They both knew it. Ryder just hoped his men could find the threat before it found Shelby.

  Darkness fell quickly as they made their way from the Japanese gardens into the lilac gardens. Manito Park had too many gardens, in Ryder’s opinion. Too many places for someone to hide.

  The sweet scent of lilac hung in the air as he led Shelby past deep purple bushes, light purple ones and white ones, their shadows long in the evening light. Everything peaceful, but not everything right. Something was about to go down, and if Ryder wasn’t careful, it would take Shelby down with it.

  “It’s quiet,” she whispered, and he nodded, probing shadows, studying dark corners, waiting, knowing.

  The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and he hurried her to a ten-foot slate wall carved into the side of a steep hill. Lilac bushes pressed close to cold stone, and he shoved Shelby behind the thick branches and heavy boughs.

  “Do you think—”

  “Shh.” He shushed her, listening to the silence. A twig cracked. Grass rustled. Then silence again, thick and expectant.