Guarding Bristol (Crimson Point Security #4)

Guarding Bristol (Crimson Point Security #4)

By Kaylea Cross

Chapter One

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B ristol finished wiping the gel off her pregnant patient’s rounded belly with a flourish and a smile. “ Voilà . You’ll no doubt be happy to know this concludes our session, and you can finally empty your bladder. Not here, though,” she added.

OB scans were her favorite part of the job.

The woman laughed in the middle of sitting up, then put a hand on her stomach and grimaced. “That’s cruel, making me laugh when I’m literally about to burst. Do you know how hard it is to hold it in right now? I’ve got half a gallon of liquid in my bladder, which is currently a quarter of the size it normally is. Well, you saw it,” she said, waving one hand at the ultrasound screen and accepting Bristol’s help with the other to get her upright on the edge of the table.

“You’re right. That was mean. I’m a terrible person.”

“I’ll try to find it in my heart to forgive you.” She slanted Bristol a conspiratorial look. “By the way, was that what I thought it was?”

“Was what what you thought it was?”

“You know. That...shadow down there.” She gestured to the area between her legs.

“Shadow?” Bristol asked, all innocence. The patient had specifically told her she didn’t want to know the baby’s sex, and Bristol wasn’t allowed to tell her anyway.

“It was! I knew it!”

Bristol shook her head and held up a hand. “Whoa, I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. I can read your face.”

“You can read my face?”

“Yep. You have a very readable face.”

Shoot. She really did. She sucked at poker and was a terrible liar. “I can neither confirm nor deny that there was a shadow...down there.” She adjusted her glasses, kept her face straight.

“It’s okay. I was pretty sure on my own.” The woman patted her belly. “This is my fourth, so I’ve had some practice reading ultrasounds. Now help me off this thing and point me to the bathroom before I embarrass myself and pee on the floor.”

Bristol got her up, pointed her to the bathroom, then wiped down the table and equipment before exiting the ultrasound room and making her way to the lockers inside the staffroom with a spring in her step. It had been a good day. She loved her job, but sometimes it was hard when she discovered something bad on the ultrasound. Thankfully today, she hadn’t needed to pass on a single piece of bad or worrying news to the radiologist for confirmation.

“There she is,” Travis said, looking up at her as he laced up a shoe. He was an incredibly popular Physician Assistant here at the hospital, as well as a PJ with the Air National Guard. “All done for the day?”

“Yep.” Since his hands were busy, she bent to pick up his discarded boots and set them in the bottom of his locker for him. “Guess you’re just starting?”

“Thanks. You know what they say. No rest for the wicked.”

“Please, you’re the furthest thing from wicked.” There was something in the water here in Crimson Point. All the men were ridiculously hot. Most of them were either former military or law enforcement. And pretty much all of them were taken.

He stood, shrugging into his lab coat, his arm muscles straining the sleeves. His wife, Kerrigan, was a lucky lady. “Got any plans for tonight?”

“Cassie’s coming over soon. We’re having wine and lady tapas.”

“Lady what?”

“You know, picky plates.” She mimicked picking something off a plate and popping it in her mouth, then chewed, rolling her eyes in ecstasy.

Travis laughed. “Well, you enjoy.”

“I sure will. Later.”

“Later,” he said, heading for the door to start his shift.

Outside the hospital, Bristol paused to raise her arms over her head and stretch, closed her eyes, and pulled in a deep breath of the warm August evening. Even up here on the top of the hill overlooking Crimson Point, the air held the faint salty tang of the ocean.

The drive home was extra gorgeous at this time of year. The sun hung low on the horizon, spilling its deep golden rays across the sea that stretched out as far as the eye could see as she headed south to her quiet little neighborhood nestled on a rise facing the water. The three-story townhouse was the first place she’d ever owned, and she loved every square inch of it, but especially the view of the water from her bedroom on the second floor.

Everleigh was bent over pruning the hydrangeas bordering the walkway when Bristol got out of her car. “Hey, neighbor.”

“Hi. Got big plans tonight?” Everleigh answered. The petite physiotherapist looked like an angel sent to earth with the deep golden sunlight shining on her silvery-blond hair.

Bristol stopped to pick up a few cut branches lying on the grass and toss them in the pile on the tarp. “Lady tapas with Cassie. You wanna come over?”

“Love to, but I’m taking Grady on a long overdue date when he gets off. They’re on exercise this coming weekend, so we’re getting quality time in before he leaves.”

Her husband Grady was an L&D nurse at the hospital and also a PJ in Travis’s unit. Seriously, Crimson Point was a hotbed of hot military men. She wouldn’t mind finding one for herself, as long as he didn’t try to change her. She didn’t do well with controlling men. “Awesome, enjoy.”

“Oh, I will,” Everleigh replied with a sly wink that made Bristol grin.

Cool, citrus-scented air greeted her when she opened her front door and walked in. She rushed upstairs to change into yoga pants and a long tunic top, then hurried back down to the kitchen to put together dinner. Crackers with hunks and slices of various cheeses she’d bought from a shop in town, fresh berries and other fruit, toasted nuts, sliced veggies, ranch dip, hummus, rotisserie chicken, a few roasted pepper slices, marinated artichokes. All the good stuff, and the best part was, she hadn’t had to make any of it.

“Knock-knock,” a familiar voice called from the front entry.

“Come on in. I’m in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on this masterpiece.”

Cassie appeared around the corner a few moments later, tall and slender in snug cropped jeans and a form-fitting top that hugged her trim figure to perfection. Her short cap of black hair was wispy around her face, the dark color a sharp contrast to her pale skin and startling, silvery eyes. “Hi, honey. How was your day?”

“Great, you? Oooh, yeah, you brought the good stuff.” Bristol took the bottle of her favorite red from her and fished in the drawer for the corkscrew to open it.

Cassie perused the board she’d built. “Lady tapas? Nice.”

“Right? I love not cooking.” She handed over two wineglasses. “Pour us a glass and make yourself comfy on the couch. I’ll be right there.”

Cassie took the glasses to the attached living room and stretched out on the couch with a deep sigh. “Oh, yeah. Been looking forward to this all week.”

“Same.” It was so nice to have Cass around. It hadn’t been easy to convince her to make the move out here from Vegas, but Bristol knew her stepsister was way happier here. Now they got to hang out whenever they felt like it.

She finished arranging the board to her satisfaction and carried it to the coffee table, accepting a glass of wine as she settled into the opposite corner of the couch. “Cheers, babe.”

“Cheers.” Cassie clinked glasses with her and grinned. “Look at us, hanging out by choice all on our own as if we actually like each other.”

“I know, right? We’ve come a long way.”

“I’ll say. You hated my guts when we first met,” Cassie said with a smirk. “Stone-cold Elsa-freeze treatment.”

Yeah, because her dad had decided the best way to introduce her and Cassie was to bring Cassie over to dinner one night and announce over roast chicken that they were going to be sisters when he eloped with Cassie’s mom in a few weeks.

Bristol had been singularly unimpressed. “I know. Sorry I was such a moody bitch.”

Cassie snorted a laugh in the middle of taking a sip of wine, wound up choking. Bristol leaned forward to pound on her back.

“It always cracks me up when you swear,” Cassie wheezed when she finished coughing. “You’re so damned adorable, you look like sugar wouldn’t melt in your mouth.”

She frowned. “Whatever, I swear.”

“Hardly ever. And I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say the word ‘fuck.’”

Bristol brushed at a crumb on her pants. “Be grateful. Because that would mean I’ve gone nuclear.”

Cassie’s eyes danced with silent laughter. “I think I’d pay good money to see that.”

“You say that only because you haven’t witnessed it firsthand.” She gestured to the mostly demolished food remaining on the board. “Want more? I’ve got lots more.”

Cassie groaned. “No, I couldn’t. Maybe another glass of wine for dessert though.”

“It’s made of fruit. It counts.” Bristol topped up Cassie’s glass and took the mostly empty board to the kitchen. “So, tell me about work. What’s the latest at CPS, the best security company in the entire Pacific Northwest that you love working for and will be eternally thankful I made you apply to earlier this year?”

Being a cop in Vegas had burned Cassie out, and a bad breakup she was annoyingly secretive about had made her miserable. Private security work—and the higher pay—suited her way better.

“Yeah, all right, I’ll give you that one.” Cassie took another sip. “Got a gig coming up later this week, not sure of the details yet. And after that, there’s a security detail for a celebrity coming into town. Good friends with Ryder, apparently.”

“Who?”

“Dunno. I don’t have the details yet.” Cassie got up and took her wine across the living room to examine the framed photos lined up on the shelves along the wall.

“Is this week’s upcoming gig a solo thing, or will you be working with a partner?”

“Partner.”

Bristol watched her. Cassie’s back was to her. That plus the nonchalant tone was a giveaway. “Who? Tristan?”

“Maybe.” Cass swirled her wine, kept her back to her.

Bristol chuckled softly. “Man, you are so twitterpated.”

Cassie shot her a look over her shoulder. “Twitterpated? Who the hell uses that word?”

“Me. And I’m right,” she added smugly.

Cassie huffed and went back to looking at the photos. “You’re not always right.”

“Mostly. What’s he like? Other than his sweet Kentucky twang.” She’d seen him and his twin Gavin around town but never met them.

“He doesn’t have a twang, it’s more subtle than that. And he’s...fine,” she said with a shrug.

“Girl, that goes without saying. As in, fiiiine.” And like most of the former military men around here, they were hot. “But I meant his personality. I’m seriously curious about what kind of guy would have you all tied up in knots.”

“He doesn’t have me tied up in anything, he—wait.” Cassie grabbed a framed photo from the shelf, stared at it a second before looking over at her. “Who’s this?” She marched over, holding it out for Bristol to see.

The one of Eric and four guys in their utilities on a deployment overseas a few years ago. “Some guys in my brother’s unit on deployment.”

Seeing Eric didn’t hurt as much anymore. Time had softened it to an ache instead of the jagged grief she’d felt for those first few months after losing him.

“When was it taken?”

“I dunno, a year or two before we pulled out of Afghanistan. Why?”

“This guy.” Cassie tapped the guy on the far left. “Who is he?”

“Buddy of Eric’s. Why, you recognize him or something?”

“Remember the good Samaritan I told you about from the Portland riots?”

“The guy who rescued Gavin’s daughter from the idiot who grabbed her to use as a shield?”

“Yes. I swear this is him. God, I knew I’d seen him somewhere before. Didn’t put it together until just now.”

Bristol looked at the photo again. “You sure?”

“Almost positive. We still don’t have much information on him. Even Ivy didn’t dig up anything when she looked.”

Ivy, the legendary female badass goddess living right here in Crimson Point. Engaged to one of the heads of Crimson Point Security, it was rumored she used to be some kind of government assassin or something. “Huh.”

“Do you know his name?”

“Tomás, I think.” Eric had been pretty tight with him while they were deployed. “I can’t remember his surname.” It would be such a weird coincidence that he had wound up here, just a few hours away from her.

“Yeah, that fits. He told us his name is TJ. I swear this is him, minus the beard and longer hair.”

A disturbing thought occurred to her. “Wait. Didn’t you say this TJ guy is homeless?”

“Yep. On the streets in Portland, working odd jobs when he can get them.”

“Oh, no...” Bristol took the photo from her, staring at Tomás’s smiling face.

He looked so young, so cocky and full of life. To think that he’d earned a Ranger tab, served his country honorably, and survived the war only to come home and wind up hitting rock bottom just like Eric had...

Her stomach tightened in distress. It hurt to think about, dredged up all sorts of painful memories she didn’t want to confront anymore.

“He seems to be doing okay, all things considered,” Cassie added softly. “I mean, relatively speaking. He was clean when I saw him.”

That didn’t mean anything. His situation filled her with sadness and anger. What if TJ was Tomás? She couldn’t stand the thought that a buddy of her brother’s was on the streets. Discarded. Alone, like Eric had been.

“Do you think you could find him again?”

Cassie’s gaze shot to hers. Then she shook her head. “Oh, no. No, come on. Don’t do this to yourself. He’s not Eric, you—”

“I can at least find out if it’s him, can’t I?”

“And then what?” Cassie folded her arms, looking every inch the protective big sister Bristol hadn’t had until their lives had intertwined seven years ago. “Save him from himself?”

She lifted a shoulder, feeling suddenly defensive as dark, ghostly memories swirled in her mind.

Of walking the darkened streets and alleys in search of her brother. The awful fear and uncertainty that she was too late. The endless, painful weeks that followed once she had finally found him.

“Maybe.” She’d helped pull him from the abyss, if only for a short while before tragedy had taken him from her forever.

Tomás deserved at least a chance to turn his life around.

“If it’s him, then he was Eric’s friend, and I can’t turn away.” Eric would want her to do what she could for him. “Maybe he just needs to know someone still gives a crap about him.”

Cassie sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Shit, now I wish I hadn’t said anything.”

“I don’t.” Bristol would never have known about his situation otherwise. “Just help me find him. That’s it. It might not even be him.”

Cassie eyed her a long moment, exasperation clear on her face. “If I say no, you’ll just try to find him on your own, won’t you.”

Bristol didn’t deny it. “I need to see if it’s him. For Eric.”

“For Eric, or for you?”

Okay, point taken. “For both of us.”

Ultimately, she hadn’t been able to save her brother. But maybe she could help save Tomás.

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