Chapter 7 Basia
BASIA
My alarm clock drags me out of dreams I wish I could stay in forever. But the longer I spend awake, with my usual thoughts and fears spinning in my head, the more embarrassed I feel for wishing my dream life were real.
In my dreams, Caleb didn’t pick me up from work or cook for me because he had to. He did it because he wanted to. There was no threat, no stalkers, no job. Just a married couple living their peaceful life.
My cheeks are on fire just from the thought. Poe purrs up a storm as I move, and I realize I didn’t even wake up when he sprawled over my legs for his post-breakfast nap.
“Basia?” Caleb calls from outside my bedroom. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”
“Blasphemy.” I try to sound outraged, but my vocal cords haven’t realized I’m awake yet, and it comes out with a croak that makes Caleb chuckle.
When I swing my feet off the bed, I feel something damp on the heel of my sock.
“Ugh, Poe, did you throw up again? Never mind, I don’t want to know,” I grumble, hopping clumsily to take my socks off and get through my morning routine.
I skid into the kitchen, still buttoning up my shirt, but get distracted by the plate on the counter.
“Oh, yum, avocado toast.”
I take a huge bite and lower my eyelids appreciatively. When I feel a tugging on my shirt, I stop chewing and open my eyes to see Caleb fixing my collar.
“There you go,” he says quietly. This close, I can see the gold flecks in his eyes and the fine frown lines around them. He has tiny scars peppered across one cheek that make me think he got caught by some shrapnel while serving. “Basia?”
I struggle to swallow and smile nervously at him.
“Yep. I was just looking at your ridiculously dark, long, and thick eyelashes and feeling jealous,” I say cheekily.
The side of Caleb’s mouth twitches up into an almost shy-looking grin before he turns away and rubs the back of his neck. “We’re running a little late today.”
I clear my throat and look down at my toast. “Yeah, I think I need to set my alarm clock a little earlier. Usually, I wake up before it and get up once it rings, but today I slept in.”
“I’ll wrap your toast in napkins, and you can finish it in the car. Why don’t you put your shoes and coat on?” he suggests, still not looking at me.
“Sounds like a plan,” I murmur, putting my food down and looking around for my bag.
“On the coffee table,” Caleb says.
“Stop reading my mind,” I grumble when I spot my Marc Jacobs exactly where he said it is.
“I’m not,” he replies, already moving to the front door. “I just know you.”
“Well, I spend as much time with you as you spend with me. So how come I don’t know what you’re thinking all the time?”
He turns around to wink at me. “Military training, darling.”
I roll my eyes. “Ugh, no thanks. Way too lazy for bootcamp.”
“I could teach you a few things,” Caleb suggests as he checks the hallway before beckoning me over.
“Like self-defense? I took a few lessons with Morgan last year before…” I hesitate, not wanting to even bring up finding a dead rat boxed up on my doorstep.
“Sure,” he says, not requiring me to finish. “Self-defense, situational alertness, de-escalation techniques. I’m sure Ethan wouldn’t mind us using his training warehouse.”
Heat rises to my cheeks like someone lit a furnace inside me.
“I’ve heard about the warehouse,” I mumble, glad I’m a step behind him and he can’t see my face.
“Why would you know about the warehouse?” Caleb asks, sounding rightfully confused. It wasn’t exactly used for training purposes in the tales I’ve heard.
I try to sound casual. “Oh, just something Barb said.”
Caleb grunts and checks the elevator before entering.
Once we’re enclosed together in the tight space, it’s really hard to think of anything that isn’t him.
His masculine smell—the perfect amount of cologne, leather from his jacket, and the faint scent of his guns and whatever he uses to clean them.
His imposing body and how much room it takes.
His serious, assessing gaze, always looking for threats, looking to protect me.
I squirm and try to ignore how I’m ruining my perfectly good, fresh pair of panties.
“What is it?” Caleb asks, making me jolt. Of course he’s watching. He’s always watching. “Are you worried about being followed again?”
“Always,” I murmur. At least, always when I’m not thinking about things that are very inappropriate for a professional relationship.
“I can wait inside for you today, if you want,” he suggests. It’s something we’ve talked about before.
“I’m still not ready to tell everyone who I am and why I need a bodyguard,” I reply, looking up at him with my best puppy dog impression.
He seems to be searching my eyes for something, but in the end, he just nods. The spell is broken when the elevator doors open and spit us out in the lobby. There’s no doorman in this building, but the maintenance is decent, and I didn’t feel unsafe here until the notes started coming.
A man is waiting just inside the entrance. Early thirties, non-descript brown hair and hazel eyes, he’s wearing a suit and standing like a soldier at ease. I recognize the type instantly. Secret Service.
“Coleman?” Caleb hails him. “What are you doing here?”
Why am I not surprised my bodyguard knows the Secret Service man?
Coleman nods at Caleb, then moves his gaze to me. “Ward. Miss Langford.”
“Barton,” I correct automatically with a whisper meant more for me than him. Just a girl struggling to hold on to her identity.
“The governor heard the police hit a dead end. He ordered backup, and when I heard Aegis was on the job, I volunteered.”
“Don’t call me that,” Caleb sighs, much like I did. The mirroring makes my lips twitch despite the frustration of being under my dad’s scrutiny again.
“There’s no room in my apartment for you,” I grumble.
Coleman gives me a tight smile. “No need. I’m on for the day shift. The night shift is being handled by someone else, and she’ll be on guard here in the lobby.”
“Who?” Caleb asks instantly.
“Don’t think you know her, she’s young,” Coleman replies. “Matilda Wheeler.”
“Matilda and young?” I ask skeptically.
This time, Coleman’s smile seems genuine. “She goes by Matty, and that fits her better. I’m Teddy, by the way.”
When Teddy extends his hand, and I reach out to take it, Caleb makes a sound like a rockslide.
“Maybe Wheeler can take the day shift?” my bodyguard suggests, much to Teddy’s amusement.
“And deprive me of your wonderful company during the day?”
Caleb visibly grits his teeth, and I can’t help a giggle that draws both men’s gazes. Feeling self-conscious, I clear my throat.
“Um, well, my coworkers don’t know who I am, or about my stalker, so Caleb’s just been waiting outside for me.
And he’s sleeping with me. I mean, in my apartment, on the couch,” I hurry to correct, my face igniting again.
Teddy’s eyes have a curious twinkle, and the last thing I need is for him to tell Father something suspicious is going on between my bodyguard and me.
“But, um,” I continue. “I don’t think there’s a need for two more people.”
Teddy shakes his head. “Nothing we think is going to change the fact that the governor gave an order. You’re stuck with us,” he says, finishing with a smile.
He really is very handsome, and closer to my age than Caleb. So why does his smile not make my stomach do somersaults like Caleb’s?
“You’re going to need to change,” Caleb sighs, sounding resigned. “You have G-man written all over you. Then again, the stalker might be too busy taking shots at you to bother Basia,” he adds with a tilt of his head. “Keep the suit, maybe flash your government-issue gun too.”
Teddy’s laugh fills the lobby. “Still a bucket of laughs, I see.”
“Uh, guys?” I interrupt. “Can you measure your guns later? I’m running late over here.”
Though if they want to measure something else, I’ll be in the front row for sure.