Chapter 3
SERA
It was rare for a hotshot athlete to truly be cool with me being assigned to their close protection detail, but the firmness with which Rowan shot down his agent’s objections made it clear that he was.
Some of our male clients pretended they were completely on board because they hoped to get in my pants.
But since I was there to protect them, not sleep with them, that was never going to happen.
I’d never been tempted to get personal with a client. Until Rowan.
Not that anyone with a vagina would blame me. He was hot as fuck with his muscular six-foot-three frame, thick dark hair, dark eyes, and square jawline covered with scruff. Backing me up the way he had only made him more attractive to me.
“Thanks, boss. I’ve got it from here.” I walked to the door and opened it.
Looking over my shoulder at Rowan and his agent, I added, “Since Whit, Devon, and I will be working your case, how about we head into the conference room to hammer out the details? I’m sure Brecken has a million other things to do today. ”
Rowan was the first out the door, moving faster than I expected.
Whit and Devon followed him, and his agent wasn’t far behind them.
Whit led us into the conference room, claiming a chair at the head of the long table.
Devon chose to sit opposite from him on the other end.
Rowan and Carl snagged the seats closest to the door, leaving me with the side across from them.
Once we were all settled, I kicked off the conversation.
“Although Brecken was correct in saying there’s no need for me to prove myself, I want to reiterate that I am more than able to handle your security issues.
Not only have I served in the military but I've also taken lead on similar cases in the past with positive outcomes.
Brecken didn't pick me for your close protection detail purely because it will be easier to explain the presence of a woman at your side. He would never risk one of his client’s safety to help them save face.
The fact that I won't stand out like a sore thumb is just a bonus.”
Rowan’s dark gaze did a quick survey of what he could see of my face and body.
My hair was pulled up in a ponytail, I’d only bothered with mascara and a hint of gloss this morning, and I was wearing a green T-shirt with dark jeans.
My look was low maintenance, but judging by the masculine approval in Rowan’s eyes, he didn’t mind.
“You’re very much mistaken if you think you won't stand out, just not for the reasons you think.”
“I've noticed that most of our athlete clients like to hit on her,” Whit murmured.
“I think it must be the challenge she presents,” Devon added.
“Yeah.” Whit smirked, shaking his head. “Remember that Brazilian General? He sure thought he was up for the challenge.”
Devon snorted. “Boy, did she prove him wrong when she landed him on his ass after he tried to pat hers.”
Rowan’s eyes flared with anger. “She shouldn’t have to put up with that kind of bullshit.”
Whit leaned forward and smiled. “I’m glad to hear you think so. I’d hate to be forced to hurt, maim, or kill my favorite football player, but I would if I had to.”
“And he wouldn’t be alone when he did it,” Devon added.
Rowan held his hands up in surrender. “You’ve got nothing to worry about with me. I’m not about to disrespect any woman, let alone one who could kick my ass all by herself.”
“I’m glad at least one person in this room has faith in my ability to protect myself,” I grumbled, aiming a glare at Whit and then Devon.
“You know it’s not that, Sera. It’s because we feel like shit after—”
Rowan and his agent didn’t need to hear Devon’s explanation. What happened on our last case was mine to share when and with whom I wanted. “Now that we’ve gotten all that out of the way, how about we focus on the plan to keep Rowan safe from his stalker?”
The guys took my hint and got down to business. Whit shoved a pad of paper in Rowan’s direction. “We’ll need a list of anyone who might be out to get you, in case the culprit is someone you know. Ex-girlfriends, teammates, anyone who’s had beef with you in the last five to ten years.”
Rowan’s dark eyes went wide in surprise, and he shook his head. “I don’t know anyone who would write the shit that’s been in the last few letters.”
“Yeah, you do.” His agent snagged the notepad and pulled a pen from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “You just don’t realize it because part of my job is to handle the negative crap so it doesn’t mess with your game.”
Carl jotted down a dozen names, and a muscle in Rowan’s jaw jumped when his agent handed the pad of paper back to Whit.
He did a quick scan of the list and asked, “These are all former and current teammates. There haven’t been issues with exes who weren’t ready for the relationship to end?
No jersey chasers who thought they could get knocked up and nab a ring? ”
These were standard questions for our athlete clients who had stalkers. It’d never bothered me before, but I found myself bracing for the endless list of chicks who’d been in and out of Rowan’s bed.
“I’ve been too focused on my career to have a relationship.”
“And no jersey chasers for him,” Carl added. “He’s one of the few who took my advice seriously when it came to staying away from them.”
Some of the tension eased from my body upon hearing this information even though it gave us fewer leads to run down.
Whit ran through the rest of the usual questions.
“Okay, I think we’ve got enough to go with for now.
We’ll pass this information along to our investigative team, and they’ll dig into everyone on the list to rule out whoever they can.
If anything pops up in their search, they’ll let us know. ”
“And in the meantime? You’re going to keep Rowan safe until you can figure out who’s doing this, right?” Carl asked.
“Absolutely,” Devon confirmed. “That’s where Sera comes in.”
Carl’s gaze shifted to me. “What’s your big plan?”
“Easy.” I flashed him a grin, enjoying the fact that my answer was going to drive him up a wall. “I move in with Rowan.”
“You what?” Carl sputtered.
I let myself enjoy his reaction for about thirty seconds before I got serious. “The girlfriend cover story works so well because it allows me access to all parts of his life. I can be at his side during public appearances, at his games, and in his home at night without anyone thinking twice.”
“That’s what you think,” Carl muttered with a frown.
Worried what his response meant, I turned to Rowan. “And there isn’t anyone in your life who will take issue to me staying in your house?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Just my mom, and it’d be more a case of her wondering why she didn’t meet you sooner.”
“I’d highly recommend letting her in on the story,” Carl suggested.
Rowan nodded. “It’d make my life a hell of a lot easier.”
“If looping her in will help with my cover story, then you can tell your mom what’s going on. Brecken mentioned that he already ruled her and Carl out as possible suspects,” I agreed.
Carl’s head jerked back at my answer. “You looked into me?”
“And my mom?”
“Of course we did,” Devon confirmed. “It would’ve been irresponsible of us to assume that it wasn’t one of the people you’re closest to. For all we knew”—he jerked his thumb in Carl’s direction—“this was something your agent cooked up to get you to change your mind about retiring.”
“Huh.” Carl tapped his chin with his pen. “I guess I’m not nearly as devious as my reputation might lead people to believe since I didn’t come up with that plan on my own.”
Okay, maybe the agent wasn’t as bad as I’d originally thought.