Chapter Two
Church stepped through the front doors of the training facility, slowing as he passed the glass wall of the administration office. It wasn’t going to be easy to get used to seeing her here.
Zee Davis stood inside Gabe’s office, leaning over the desk with a stack of folders spread out in front of her. Her chestnut hair framed her face in soft waves, deep brown with threads of reddish warmth that glinted when the sunlight hit them.
She pointed to the paperwork. Church stopped for half a second, trapped in time and drowning in memories.
She’d been here exactly two days and somehow she already looked like she belonged—handling paperwork as if she’d been running the place for months. But of all the people he expected to see in the training facility, Zee never made the list.
“How the hell did you end up here?” he murmured under his breath.
Then an old habit kicked in. One he was always careful to keep to himself—and he definitely had to lock down now that Zee was here.
“You seeing this, Matt?” He didn’t know when he started talking to his fallen brother-in-arms. Somewhere between the horrible day that the op went wrong and the funeral.
He watched Matt’s widow through the glass a moment longer. “If you had anything to do with sending her here, I’m not real impressed with your sense of humor.”
The memory of the last time he’d seen Zee slid into his mind whether he wanted it or not.
The funeral had been gray and cold, the ocean wind cutting through the cemetery while the team stood at attention beside the flag-draped coffin. Zee had stood with Matt’s family near the front, dressed in black, her hands clasped tight.
She hadn’t made a single sound. No sobs for the husband she’d lost. Not even a sniffle.
But tears had slipped quietly down her cheeks while she stared straight ahead, silent and shaky in a way that twisted deep in Church’s chest. Even then, there had been a strength about her that made it impossible to look away.
Seeing her now, three years later, stirred a different reaction in him.
She looked thinner. A little worn around the edges, like life had taken a few hard swings at her since the funeral and she’d taken every one without bracing.
He didn’t like that.
Matt wouldn’t have liked it either.
He slowed for half a step outside the office, but nothing could dispel the weight he carried in his chest.
Matt had trusted him, and he’d let him down.
Church dragged a hand over his jaw, the scrape of callus on stubble the soundtrack to the painful realization setting in.
He’d watched Matt’s six and made calls that kept them both breathing. And still…Matt hadn’t come home.
He couldn’t believe she was here, in his world.
His gut twisted. He didn’t have a place in her life—didn’t deserve one.
He continued past the glass before he could let the thought burrow any deeper than it already had, and headed for the exit.
Standing around watching her wasn’t going to solve anything—for either of them—and he had a job waiting on him outside Willowbrook.
The Black Heart Security team’s “easy” assignment.
He stepped into the Wyoming air and strode toward his truck, pulling his keys from his pocket.
Bodyguard duty on a movie set wasn’t exactly his usual kind of mission.
But he felt a responsibility to help out his team when they offered it.
Besides, it would keep him busy while they waited for the operators in training to arrive.
Most of the prep work for the first training rotation was already done.
There wasn’t much left to do except wait.
And waiting gave a man too much time to stand around watching things he wasn’t sure how to handle.
Church reached the movie location just as the afternoon light began to soften over the mountains.
The valley opened wide beneath the ridge line, the Wyoming peaks rising sharp and rugged behind the temporary village of trailers and equipment trucks. Pines framed the edges of the clearing while a narrow dirt road wound down through the trees toward the set.
Someone had chosen this place for its beauty, and while he noticed the striking backdrop of granite and sky, he saw it the way he always saw terrain. As cover. Elevation. Or places enemies could hide.
He parked his truck along the edge of the clearing and stepped out, letting the door shut behind him while he scanned the area for the very things he’d look for when dropping into a battle zone.
In this case, the battle would be keeping potential threats away from a movie star.
He took a slow walk around the perimeter. A handful of crew members moved around hauling cables and big lights on stands. Trailers were clustered in a row on one side of the clearing.
The road coming in was visible from a distance. Good. Anyone approaching would be easy to spot. The tree line on the north side was thicker. A person could slip in there if they were determined enough.
He made a mental note to find out who owned that property and what the chances were that people could enter the set through those woods.
“Hello.”
Church turned to see a thin man in an expensive jacket hurrying toward him. His hair was perfectly styled despite the breeze, and he wore a strained smile probably resulting from dealing with the problems of actors.
“Nigel Baker.” He extended a hand. “Miss Collins’s manager.”
Church pulled off the sunglasses and pumped his hand once. “Security.”
“Yes, yes. I could tell by your physique.”
He didn’t know if he should be amused or not.
Nigel glanced around like he was prepared for an ambush of paparazzi and stalkers. “We’re very glad you’re here. We’ve had…a few enthusiastic fans attempt to approach the set during filming in other locations.”
“That won’t happen here.”
The manager visibly relaxed. “Wonderful. Now, before I show you around the set and introduce you to Miss Collins, I just need to confirm one thing.” He checked the tablet he carried. “Where is your wife at the moment?”
Church’s brows drew together. “My what?”
“Your wife.” He looked up from the tablet. “She’ll need to remain with you while you’re on set.”
He turned the tablet around and tapped the screen to enlarge the text of a contract between Black Heart Security and the production company.
“The contract specifically states the security detail must be married. It’s part of the actor’s agreement with the studio. They’re very cautious about rumors forming between talent and security personnel.”
He blew air through his nostrils. “You’re telling me your insurance company requires a married bodyguard and their wife must accompany them to the set.”
“Exactly.” Nigel appeared to be relieved that Church understood.
“And if the security detail isn’t married?”
Nigel’s polite smile tightened. “Then technically you’re in violation of the contract and can face legal ramifications.”
Church stared at him for a moment. “I’ll be back.” He turned toward his truck.
Twenty minutes later when he walked into the training facility, he found Theo in the equipment locker unpacking a box of climbing gear.
Theo looked up. “That was quick. Movie set burn down?”
Across the space, Zee was unpacking another box and organizing items in a storage closet. She didn’t glance over her shoulder to acknowledge him, but he saw the line of her back stiffen slightly.
He removed his sunglasses. “There’s a problem.”
Theo dropped the pack of carabiners back into the box. “What kind of problem?”
“The kind where you apparently told the client you were sending a married security detail.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“That’s interesting, because it’s in the contract signed by Black Heart Security. I read it myself.”
“Dammit.” Theo dropped his gaze as if an answer to all their problems could be found on his worn Tony Lama boots. “The only married members of the security team are out on other jobs. Denver leaves tonight for a detail. You’re sure the bodyguard has to be married?”
“It’s in the contract. A clause that says security has to be married to avoid rumors about talent hooking up with the bodyguard.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
He shook his head. “Wish I was. Why don’t you and Juliette jump in the private jet and make a quick run to Vegas?”
Theo barked out a laugh. “You don’t know Juliette. When she plans our wedding, the royal families will all be in attendance.”
Zee turned her head but didn’t join the conversation.
Church raked his fingers through his hair, the strands longer than he’d worn it since entering bootcamp all those years ago. Christ—twenty-four years ago to be exact. He suddenly felt a hell of a lot older than forty-two.
“So they want you to bring a wife,” Theo said slowly.
“That’s the idea. The actor’s manager threatened legal action.”
“Well, that’s inconvenient.”
Church shot him a look. “You think?”
A soft snort sounded from the storage closet. They both looked at Zee, who was pulling can after can of ground spray paint out of a box and setting them on a shelf.
As she realized their discussion stopped, she looked over her shoulder and issued a little laugh.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She brushed a strand of chestnut hair away from her face.
She held up a can, rambling on as if to cover her eavesdropping, “I’ve never seen this much ground paint in one place.
What are you planning to do with all of it? Section off the entire mountain?”
“It’s for the training courses. We use it to mark positions for the trainees during exercises,” Theo explained. Then he slowly turned back to Church, gray eyes suddenly gleaming in a way that had his senses on alert.
“I already don’t like whatever it is you’re thinking, Malone.”
Theo cut his eyes toward Zee. Then back to him.
Church pointed a finger at him. “Don’t.”
Theo tipped his head. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t look at her.”
Zee spun to them, a tiny crease between her soft brows. “Why shouldn’t he look at me?”
Neither of them answered. They were too busy having a stare-down with a battle of wills on the side.