The Alpha Bodyguards Books #4-6

Chapter Forty-Eight

I was pissed she’d doubted me.

Logically I knew it wasn’t a stretch. We didn’t know dick about each other and Nash looked enough like an Asher to be mine. I got the stretch. I got her reaction to Mercy’s outburst. But I was still pissed she’d doubted me because I gave a fuck what she thought and I’d never given a damn what any woman thought about me.

But more than that, having her in my bed was bringing home the reality of the situation. I was fucking livid when she’d walked away at L&A. That shit had contradicted everything we’d talked about, but if I was being a fucking man, I’d admit all that shit was rash on my part.

There was a reason I didn’t keep a woman in my bed.

Especially at night.

Staring at the meager shit I had in the fridge, I sighed. I was going to have to tell her about the nightmares. Sooner rather than later. If she wanted to walk, it was better she did it now.

“Are you all right?”

Startled that she’d snuck up on me, I spun. “Yeah, fine. Why?”

Wearing the T-shirt I’d tossed on the bed for her, she glanced at the open fridge door. “You were staring into the fridge.”

“Right.” I half laughed and turned back to the task at hand. “Not much here, sweetheart. We’re going with what I got.” I pulled out eggs, a pancake mix I kept on hand for Nash and a couple apples.

“Whatever you have is fine. I’m not picky.” She stepped up beside me. “Can I help?”

As natural as if she’d been by my side for years, I leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “I got it.”

She rested her head on my arm. “I don’t mind.”

Inhaling, I set the shit in my hands down and pulled her into my arms. “I have something to tell you.”

She stiffened. “Okay.”

I unloaded. “I have nightmares. They’re not fucking pretty. It affects my sleep, and if you stick around, it’s gonna affect your sleep too.”

“All right,” she replied quietly.

I waited a beat.

She didn’t add anything.

I went for broke. “I wasn’t lying when I told you I shoot people. Usually it’s bad people. Before I worked for Luna, I worked for a bad fucking guy and if he or the other pricks who used to work for him were alive to tell about it, I’d be in jail a thousand times over. In fact, Luna sent me after you because of who I used to work for.”

“Why?” she asked simply.

I gave her the truth. “Because I know how to navigate the circle Dante traveled in.”

“The cartel?”

Fuck. “Yeah. And that’s all I’m ever going to tell you, because anything more would put you at risk.”

“Are you at risk now?”

I was shocked she hadn’t pulled away from me. “No. Not that I’m aware of.”

She looked up at me. “What does that mean?”

I paused, memorizing every gorgeous inch of her face before I lost her. “I covered my tracks. Nothing should come back to bite me.”

“And if it does?” No intonation in her voice, she asked as if she were merely curious.

“I have no regrets. I’ll pay my dues.”

“Am I in danger?”

“Not anymore. Unless your old man decides to come after you.” I half smiled.

She ducked her head to rest against my chest. “That’s not funny.”

“You’re gonna have to talk to him eventually.”

“You’re defending him now?”

I smirked. “Hell no.”

She was silent a moment, but she still didn’t move out of my arms.

I had to give her an out. “If you’re not okay with my past, or the nightmares, or anything else you’ve seen over the past twenty-four hours, I’m not gonna hold it against you. I’ll take you home and you can forget about all of it.”

She didn’t hesitate. “I don’t want to forget about you.”

Air filled my lungs, but I had to make sure. “A smart woman would walk.”

“A smart man wouldn’t ask me to walk.”

I laughed. “I fucking like you, Ludeviene Loic, you know that?”

She looked up at me, but she didn’t laugh, she didn’t even smile. “I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

Thrown, again, by the shit that came out of her mouth, I gave her the truth. “And I don’t do girlfriends.”

“So what are we doing?” she asked with the sexy fucking combination of innocence and bravado that was all her.

There was only one answer as far as I was concerned. “Making it work.”

“It?”

“Us,” I clarified.

“Okay,” she said, soft and sweet.

I gave her one last chance to back out. “You sure?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “But I have a confession too.”

Fucking great. I knew it’d been too easy. “Shoot.”

She almost smiled. “Maybe a poor choice of words.”

I gave her a wry smile. “What’s your confession?”

Her gaze dropped as she inhaled, but then her shoulders straightened and she looked back at me. “I don’t want to go back to my old life or a career that seems so trivial now. I’m not ready to forgive my father, and I don’t want to spend my life feeling unsafe because of my last name. I want to do something that makes a difference in someone’s life… like you made a difference in mine, but I can’t do what you do.”

Goddamn, this woman was sexy. I kissed her forehead. “Stay here, don’t go home. I’ll keep you safe. There’s no expiration date on forgiveness. You’ll talk to your old man when you’re ready. And you can find something else to do. There’re thousands of careers you’d kill it at.” I cupped her face. “And maybe you have it backwards. Maybe you made a difference in my life.”

She frowned. “I’m not here, with you, just because you make me feel safe. I’m not…this isn’t…” Her hand waved between us. “This, us, it isn’t just because you saved me. I don’t have a hero complex for you…” She frowned harder. “At least, I don’t think a bad one.”

I chuckled. “Maybe I wouldn’t give a damn if you did.” Despite the stupid shit I’d said to her at Roark’s, I fucking liked being her hero.

Heat hit her cheeks, and she gave me her shy smile. “Okay, maybe I have a little one.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” I kissed her once. “Come on, I need to feed you, and I’m fucking starving. You can flip the pancakes, and if you don’t burn them, we can see about changing your last name.” The comment was flippant and offhand, but as soon as I said it, I realized the hole I’d dug.

“To?” she asked casually as she moved toward the stove.

Fuck it. “Asher.”

She froze. Then she looked up at me with surprise. “You want to get married?”

I studied every inch of her pensive expression, looking for any telltale signs of panic, but saw none. “You don’t?” I challenged.

“I do,” she answered without an ounce of guile.

Already neck deep, I asked another question. “Kids?”

Her expression still not giving anything away, she nodded. “Yes. And you?”

“Absolutely.” Not that I’d ever given it much thought but with her? No fucking question.

Her frown came back. “This is quite possibly the strangest conversation I’ve ever had.”

I chuckled. “No fucking shit.”

She smiled. “You swear a lot.”

“And you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.” Hands down.

“Wait until you see me flip pancakes.” She winked.