Thirteen
Thor
We’ve been holed up in my cabin for three days, and if I can’t convince Clover to go outside today, I may very well go stir-crazy or end up doing something I’ll regret. The tropical scent of pineapples and coconut that belongs to Clover has overtaken my small cabin and caused a yearning to settle deep in my chest, though I keep reminding myself that I can’t make any type of move with her until she’s no longer a client.
I suppress a yawn and sip my coffee, hoping the rich aroma will overpower the tropical smell teasing my senses and filling my head with questions about if she tastes like she smells. It’s pointless though, seeing as this is my fourth—or maybe fifth—cup of coffee and I’m still smelling her . . . and still exhausted. I blink, my eyes heavy with the need for sleep. Or activity.
Rock isn’t thrilled with my refusal to switch with another guard, but he’s angrier at Cut for breaking protocol. Once I convinced him that Clover trusts me and would probably run from another guard, he relented. I may have also embellished the truth a little and allowed him to believe I was getting more sleep than I am.
Clover is worth it. And the truth is, I don’t trust anyone else to keep her safe.
But last night was a close call. I woke up with a scream dying on my lips. It took me a moment to orient myself to where I was, and even though she had the noise cancellation headphones on, Clover sat up and asked me what that noise had been. I couldn’t bring myself to admit to her that I’d had a PTSD nightmare. Maybe it’s my pride, but I don’t want her to see me as weak. So, instead, I brushed it off, allowing her to think it was the mountain lion again. Pinpricks of guilt burrow in my heart, but I shove them away.
Draining the remainder of the coffee, I set the mug beside the sink and glance over to where my charge is absorbed in her book. My lips tug up at the sight of her curled up under one of my blankets, sipping her coffee.
She’s gotten more comfortable around me whether she realizes it or not. She no longer sends me death stares all day long. No, I’d say the glares have been reduced by about fifty percent. I’m still having trouble getting her to really open up, though. I won’t push her, but I have been trying to offer more details about my own life in hopes that she’ll do the same. But my attempts are falling flat, even if her expression is a bit softer than the day we met.
If I could accomplish one thing before our time together ends, it would be to see a full smile from Clover Mason. My heart clenches, and I rub at the spot. I’ve not seen someone who never smiles since I was on active duty. Sometimes, the men and women I served with had seen so much—lost so much—that they closed themselves off. It was heartbreaking, and I thank God that He kept me from falling into the abyss.
Gunner’s laughing eyes fill my mind. His infectious joy and sweet personality, along with my faith, are the only things that helped me make it through my darkest moments after leaving the Marines. I tilt my head, studying Clover, and wonder what effect my brother’s light would have on her.
Hmm . . .
Putting that half-baked idea on the back burner, I push off the counter and make my way to her. “It’s a beautiful day out.”
Clover’s eyes flick to me, then the window, then back down to her book. “Yup.”
“Want to know what I was thinking?”
Sighing, she sets down her e-reader and turns an exasperated gaze on me. “I’m sure it was something like, ‘Oh, how can I annoy my client today?’”
I shake my finger. “Ah. Ah. You’re my charge. Your father is my client.”
Daggers shoot from her eyes, and I wipe a hand down my mouth and beard to smother my smile as she waves her hand. “Same difference. Now what was so important that you felt the need to interrupt me just when I was getting to the good part?”
“Hmm . . .” My lips tip up in a smirk as I allow my gaze to roam across her face, stopping briefly on her plush, berry-colored lips. “Yeah, kissing is always my favorite part too. ”
Red stains her cheeks, but she rolls her eyes and picks her e-reader back up. “If you refuse to be serious and professional—“
“Let’s go on a hike.”
Her brow furrows. “A hike?”
I nod. “Yes, a hike. It’ll be good to get out of the cabin.”
“The cabin that’s supposed to keep me safe?”
“No. I’m keeping you safe. I’m just doing it here at the cabin.”
“And now you’re going to do it outside the cabin? Where the mountain lions roam?”
I sigh, even as the guilt wiggles deeper at the mention of the mountain lion. “Listen, we’ve been cooped inside for days. We could both use some fresh air and to stretch our legs. Plus”—I lift my shirt and point to where my gun is strapped into my holster—“I’m armed.”
Clover’s eyes slowly move from my face down to where my gun rests, her face growing red again as she clears her throat and averts her gaze. I drop my shirt, fighting another grin.
Did I intentionally allow some of my six-pack to also show? Why, yes. Yes, I did.
“Go get dressed. I’ll wait outside.”
She snuggles deeper into the couch. “I think I’ll pass. I’m quite comfortable right where I’m at. But you go have all the fun you want.”
I make a tsking sound, planting my hands on my hips and shaking my head. “And here I thought you were brave.”
“You can’t use reverse psychology on me, Thor. ”
“Hmm . . . I guess that’s it then. It’s too bad, really. I was hoping to get a glimpse of the eagles again.”
She glances up at me, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Eagles?”
“Yup. There’s a nest on the trail. The eggs hatched a few weeks ago.”
Nibbling on her bottom lip, she turns her attention back to the e-reader, but I’ve almost got her hooked.
“I guess adventures come more naturally to some people. You either have the gift or you don’t.”
“Did you just try to quote Anne Shirley?”
I shrug. “Paraphrased. Anne is much more eloquent than I could ever be.”
Her mouth drops open. “You know who Anne Shirley is?”
“I’m not a monster, Love. Of course, I do. Megan Follows was my first crush.”
If at all possible, her mouth drops open even more. “You’ve watched the movies?”
My lips twitch at her amazement. “Dozens of times. They’re my mom’s favorites. I’ve also read the books.”
Shaking her head, she mumbles, “You are the strangest bodyguard.” Then, she sets her e-reader down and stands. “Fine. I guess we can go. Give me five minutes.”
I grin as she grabs her bag and heads to the bathroom to change. “Wow. And here I thought I’d have to beg more to get you to go.”
Glancing over her shoulder, she shrugs. “Not sure I can turn down a man who’s both watched and read Anne of Green Gables . ”
Rubbing my beard, I wait until she’s shut the bathroom door before quietly saying, “I’ll keep that in mind.”