Chapter Three
Zion
Makenzie Baird is going to be a problem. Scratch that. Makenzie Baird is already a problem. Because the sun isn't even up yet, but my dick certainly is. He stood at attention and waved the white flag as soon as she opened her smart mouth.
Fuck me. I knew she was gorgeous. I spent half of last night scrolling her feed. But people online wear masks. They hide who they are behind filters and enough goddamn Photoshop to completely obscure the reality. Not Makenzie. The gorgeous little spitfire from her photos is precisely the same woman who tumbled out her back door and into my arms this morning.
There's an innocence to her beauty that's breathtaking. There's strength in it too. Both reflect in her bright green eyes and vivacious smile. And don't even get me started on that body. Sweet Christ.
I thought when Madden hired us to protect a model, she'd be some tiny, delicate little thing. Fuck no. This girl is a goddamn wet dream. She's stacked everywhere, with a round ass, thick thighs, and a soft little body I want to sink my teeth into.
I'm not ashamed to admit I jerked off to her feed last night. And then didn't sleep a wink, waiting for the sun to rise. I gave up about four and decided to get my shit together and get over here.
The fact that she didn't hear me out here concerns the hell out of me. I've been drilling holes and banging around for an hour. Her nearest neighbor is far enough away to be no help if anything were to happen out here. They wouldn't even hear her screaming.
The way I see it, she's lucky Madden hired me. Her security is complete shit. With Lyle Taggert on the loose, she needs me in her corner, handling business which I fully intend to do as soon as humanly possible.
It takes another fifteen minutes to get the camera installed. Actually, it takes five to get the camera installed. It takes ten more for my dick to soften enough to make walking comfortable. I rap on the backdoor, even though she's been glaring at me out of it for the last five minutes.
Sadly, she's dressed. It's a damn shame, really.
"You might as well come in," she mumbles, throwing the door open for me with a huff that lets me know exactly how she feels about being saddled with my big ass. "Wait." She throws her arm out, blocking the door before I can cross over the threshold. "No cameras inside my house."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want people seeing things they shouldn't."
"People?"
"Those things get hacked all the time. And the next thing you know, some murderer is showing up on your doorstep to kidnap you because he's been watching you get naked on camera for a year."
"You're mixing your crimes."
"What?"
"Most murders don't involve kidnapping first. Too much work." I slip a hand around her waist, gently shifting her out of the way. Within seconds, I'm standing in her living room, looking around while she splutters behind me. Her house is cute. I don't know how the fuck women do it, but everything they touch turns to magic. Her place is an old farmhouse with an open floorplan, but the damn thing looks like a million bucks. Bright colors mix with soft fabrics and plush rugs giving it a welcoming, comforting vibe.
"You need an invitation before you just come inside, Zion."
"I'm your bodyguard, baby. Not a vampire."
She mumbles something that I don't catch.
"What was that?"
"I said I can't tell the difference," she repeats, batting her lashes at me as she pushes the back door closed. "No cameras in my house."
"No cameras in the house," I agree. I intend to fuck her on every flat surface in this place. There's no goddamn way I'm risking one of my brother's watching that footage. Aside from the fact that I don't want either of those assholes seeing her naked, we have a rule about dating clients. It's the first one in the handbook, matter of fact. I have every intention of breaking it six ways to Sunday. But I'd prefer they didn't know that just yet.
They can't bitch about what they don't know. By the time they find out, she won't be a client anymore.
"Then please, Zion, come on in," she says with false enthusiasm, making me grin.
Fuck, I love her sarcastic little attitude.
I watch as she takes a big sip of coffee.
"Oh! Manners, Kenzie. Jeez. Do you want some?" She holds the mug out toward me to indicate what she means.
I know damn well that she isn't offering me her cup, but I take it anyway. She stares with wide eyes as I turn it, planting my lips in the same place hers just touched. I take a sip, my eyes locked with hers the whole time.
"Delicious," I state, gently placing the cup back in her hands.
"I'm not nearly " Her voice fades out.
I pull my hearing aid out to adjust the volume before replacing it.
"That's a hearing aid."
I tense as soon as she utters the words. "I can do this job, angel baby."
"What?"
"I may wear a hearing aid, but I can do the job," I growl. This isn't the first time my hearing has been a problem for a client. Hell, if I'm being honest, it's a problem for me. I don't trust myself or my instincts the way I used to trust them. In this line of work, that can be dangerous. That's precisely why Zayne and Gideon do most of the heavy lifting while I handle shit behind the scenes. It's just easier for everyone that way. Doesn't mean I can't do the job, though. Just means it's more of a challenge for me than it is for most people in this line of work.
"What?" Her brows furrow, her expression morphing to one of confusion. "You think I'm judging your abilities because you wear a hearing aid?"
"Wouldn't be the first time, Makenzie. It won't be the last, either. No one wants a partially deaf bodyguard." I shrug.
"Well, first of all, I'm not any of your other clients. I don't want a bodyguard at all," she protests, making me smile despite myself. "Secondly, the fact that you wear a hearing aid isn't an issue for me, Zion. I was just surprised. I saw it outside and thought it was an earpiece." She gives me a sheepish grin. "I'm honestly a little relieved it's just a hearing aid. It's way too freaking early to deal with the level of professionalism that comes with you wearing an earpiece."
The tension slides from my shoulders. "You think an earpiece makes me a professional?"
"No, but it makes you way more of one than I'm prepared to deal with this early in the morning."
"So you aren't a morning person, your hearing is worse than mine, you don't want a bodyguard, and you make my cock hard enough to pound steel. Anything else I need to know about you?"
She chokes on her coffee.
I take a step toward her, invading her personal space. I want her off balance. I think rattling her is the only way to keep her from overthinking this shit and throwing up walls. I'll plow through them if I have to do it, but I'd rather not have to do it. Her honesty is refreshing, and turnabout is fair play. If she's going to say what's on her mind, I fully intend to give her the same in return.
"I'll hold the line no matter who or what comes at you. If they're looking for a target, it'll be on my back, not yours. But I have no intention of being a professional with you. If that's what you're looking for, you're going to be sorely disappointed." I tip her chin up with a crook of my finger. "But one thing you won't be is unsatisfied."
She gulps audibly.
"Just thought we should be on the same page," I say, stealing her cup from her hands to take another sip before I do something crazy and kiss that adorable look from her face. I'm already moving too goddamn fast for her. That truth is written all over her face. But I'm not slowing down.
I've got three days, four at most, to convince this woman that she wants me in her life when the job is done. I'll move as fast as I need to move to get her on the same page.
Shit. Maybe Zayne isn't completely out of his damn mind, after all. Because his balls-to-the-wall approach is starting to make a helluva lot more sense. Luckily for me, I don't have to stalk this beauty to keep track of her. I don't intend to leave her side at all.
"We are so not on the same page, Zion Carmichael," she whisper-hisses at me after a moment.
"No?" I grin, sipping her coffee. "That's all right. We will be soon enough."
"Why does that sound like a threat?"
"Because you have a suspicious mind?"
"Did Madden intentionally request the most annoying brother?"
I laugh loudly. "If you think I'm annoying, you'd kill Zayne."
"What about the other one?" she asks hopefully. "Surely he's not so bad."
Instead of answering, I drag my phone from my pocket to dial Gideon, deciding she needs a demonstration. I put it on speaker.
He answers on the second ring. "Why are you calling me so early? Did the model fire your big ass already?"
"Not quite."
"Can I do that?" she asks hopefully.
"Hell no," I growl.
"You already want to fire him?"
"He let himself into my house." She pauses to scowl at me. "And he's drinking my coffee."
"I didn't let myself in. You opened the door for me," I remind her. "And you offered me the cup. Shouldn't have done that if you didn't want me to take it."
"I wasn't offering you I was offering coffee in general," she splutters. "Not my cup that I was drinking."
"So this is off to a great start, I see," Gideon says.
"I want to exchange him for another brother."
"Sorry. No returns, refunds, or exchanges."
Makenzie narrows her eyes at me. "Did you tell him to say that?"
"Fuck no," Gideon chuckles. "You've known his big ass for five minutes and want to return him. Zayne and I have been trying to get rid of him since he was born."
Makenzie cracks a smile, flashing two adorable dimples at me. "Did you try selling him to SHIELD? I'm pretty sure they're still looking for whoever left that hammer in the desert."
"No, but I did try selling him to an old lady for twenty bucks at our lemonade stand once. Ma was pissed." Gideon pauses. "I almost had a deal, too."
I scowl at the phone. "Gertrude was batshit crazy."
"You would have fit right in."
Makenzie laughs in delight, the sweet sound hitting me right in the fucking heart. Jesus. She's beautiful all the time, but when she's laughing? Pure radiance. It's no wonder the world fell at her feet. I've known her for half an hour and I'm ready to do the same. This girl is magic the kind that has me thinking things I damn well shouldn't.
"Don't even think about leavin' this bed, Songbird," Gideon says, making my brows climb. He's in bed with a woman? Scratch that. He's in bed with a woman he's calling Songbird?
Motherfucker. He's sleeping with our new client, the country musician!
"Don't tell me how to live my life, Gideon James Carmichael. I need to pee."
"Fine. Pee and come right back," he says, his voice muffled. And then he comes back on the line. "Why are you calling me? I've got shit to do."
"We're going to talk about this later."
"Yeah? Are we going to talk about your situation too?"
"I don't have a situation."
"Hey, Kenzie, is it?" he says, making every hair on my body stand upright.
"That's me."
"Zion was eleven before he could sleep without a "
"Yes, we'll talk about it, you motherfucker," I growl, shutting that shit down now. I swear to Christ, Ma should have swallowed him. One brother is plenty.
"Thought you'd see it my way."
I can practically hear the smug bastard's smirk, so I do what any rational human being with an older brother would do. I hang up on his ass.
"That was Gideon?" Makenzie asks, trying and failing to contain her laughter.
"Ma dropped him on his head when he was a baby," I grouse.
"She did not."
"You're right. There's no excuse for him. He's just an idiot."
Makenzie cracks up. "He doesn't seem so annoying to me."
"Too bad. You're stuck with me."
"Fine." Her smile slips before it comes back even brighter than before. And that right there lets me know she's up to some bullshit I don't want to deal with. "Then I guess you get to come with me today."
"Where are we going?"
"How do you feel about parties?"
"Hate them."
"Excellent." She beams at me, clearly pleased with herself. And even though I want to tell her there's no fucking way we're going to a party that fucking smile knocks me flat on my ass and I swallow the denial.
I think I'd go just about anywhere if it meant going with her.
Shit. I think Gideon and I may need to have that talk sooner rather than later.