Chapter 39 #3
Then came the candy shop, where he discovered her favorite treat was blueberry saltwater taffy, so of course he bought two pounds on the spot.
She scolded him for it, laughing and swatting at his arm, but the sound she made when she popped the first piece in her mouth nearly did him in.
Honestly, he would’ve cleared out the store’s entire inventory to hear that soft, shameless moan again.
Their longest stop, besides the clothing store, was the small indie bookshop.
Vanessa strode in like she was on a mission, heading straight past the display of local-interest books, past the mystery and extensive fiction sections, and around the corner to the romance section.
She moved like she knew exactly where it would be despite never having been here before.
Standing in front of the tall shelves, she read the backs of several books, carefully stacking her final selections in his arms as she went.
“Why romance?” he asked when she added a fourth book to the pile in his arms.
“They make me happy.” She extracted another book from the shelf and held it so he saw the front. “And look at this gorgeous cover. Sometimes I buy a book simply for its cover.”
“You don’t even read it? What’s the point?”
“Well, I will read it. Eventually. I have a long list of books I need to read. But in the meantime, I want to make sure I have it, in case it’s hard to find later or I forget about it or something.”
“Right.” He tried to think of a time when he’d bought something because of how it looked but never actually used it for its intended purpose, but he came up short.
“You know, you should read one of these.” She added a fifth book to the pile that had a very jacked cowboy on the cover. “Romance is written by women, for women, and all about what women like. The world would be a much better place if men read more romance.”
“If it means I get to learn what you like, then sure, I’ll read one.”
She twirled around, wide-eyed and searching his face. “Really?”
He shrugged. “Sure, why not? Or better yet—” He leaned in so his lips brushed her ear. “You can read me your favorite chapter tonight.”
They left the bookstore with six books. He carried all their purchases to the coffee shop at the end of the main road.
“How are we going to get this all home?” Vanessa asked as she sipped her mocha.
Home. The logical side of his brain knew she’d said the word flippantly, that she didn’t mean anything by it, but the soft underbelly of his heart was circling it with a bright-yellow highlighter and drawing hearts around it like a lovesick teenager.
Taking a long sip of his black coffee, he let the suddenly bitter taste sit on his tongue for a moment.
A reminder that sweet things like home and girlfriends and relationships weren’t something that men like him deserved.
He was grateful for his second chance with Sean, and the life he had in Portland, but he wasn’t one to push his luck.
He knew from experience, it only pushed back.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make it fit.” When Vanessa snorted out her mocha, he realized what he’d said, and a warmth seeped to his cheeks. “Sorry, I meant—” Jesus. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
She was laughing and clutching her stomach, and he couldn’t help his answering smile. “Oh, I’m not worried, Zeus. I know you make it fit real good.”
He took another swig of his coffee, wanting to finish it as fast as possible so he could take her home and fuck her right to tomorrow.
But she didn’t seem in the same rush as she dipped her tongue in the whipped cream on top of her drink.
She licked the cream, then her lips, and different body parts hardened with wanting her.
“I shouldn’t be indulging this much,” she said, taking a small sip.
“Usually, this close to a show, I’m on a strict regime.
I’ve never cut it this close before.” When he didn’t respond, she went on.
“I like to be in the city that’s hosting the show at least a week in advance.
Get the lay of the land and go for all the fittings.
Cassidy’s team has been great. They know I won’t be there until the day before, but it all feels out of routine and on top of my nerves, I’m—” Her eyes narrowed. “What?”
They hadn’t talked about it. The Cassidy Moore show she was scheduled to be at in New York in a few short days.
Honestly, he’d been avoiding it because he knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.
The lovesick teenager in him couldn’t stomach taking away anything that made her happy.
But the bodyguard in charge of her safety couldn’t see any other option.
“Vanessa,” he said her name softly, the sound muted by the buzz of the coffee shop around them, but he caught her wince at his use of her name.
“There’s a stalker lurking, who is so obsessed with you that they broke into your apartment and—” He glanced around the shop, unwilling to say the rest and have someone overhear.
Her barely touched mocha landed on the table with a clank. “Yes, and?”
Was she serious? “And you’re at risk as long as they’re out there.”
She threw her hands up in the air. “Well,” she snapped, “that’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”
He didn’t know why. Maybe it was her sharp tone or the fact that he wanted her to see him as being there for so much more, but her words stung.
“Yes, that’s why I’m here.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Then what?”
“A big fashion show in New York City, where everyone will know you’ll be, isn’t safe.” How could she not see that?
“Jordan—” Her lower lip trembled.
Shit, double shit. Fuck this shit. Was she crying?
“I have to go. I have to. If I don’t, I—the stalker wins.”
He closed his eyes for the briefest moment. When he opened them again, she was watching him carefully. If the show at The Link was a second chance at her reputation, then this show in New York was the redemption song of her career.
How could he be the one to keep her from this? A man who wanted to control her had once derailed her career and her life. Hell would have to freeze over before he did the same.
“Let me work on a safety plan.” He’d better not fucking regret this. If anything happened to her, he wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt. “No promises tho—”
Before he could finish his sentence, she launched herself into his arms. Her scent and warmth enveloped him. His arms instinctively wrapped around her waist, and he tugged her onto his lap.
At this point, he would do anything for her. He’d take her to New York and keep her safe. Or die trying.