Chapter 5
Tired from being on her feet for eight hours, Holly expected to sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
That didn’t happen.
She lay still, staring at the starlight reflected off the bayou, dancing across the ceiling.
Every noise drew her attention. Not because of the possible danger she could be in, but because of the really hot guy lying across her couch below.
Her curiosity burned in her veins, making her wonder what he wore to sleep. If he even wore anything.
Her core flamed, and her curiosity got the better of her. Easing out of the bed proved to be noisier than she’d anticipated. She’d barely rolled over when the bedframe creaked.
After pausing for a moment of silence and a chance to listen, Holly moved again, sliding off the bed onto the floor where she crawled to the edge of the loft, rose on her knees and peered over the rail.
Simon lay on his back, his hands laced behind his head, wearing only a pair of shorts, his bare, muscular chest a shadowy blue in the limited light filtering through the windows. “Everything all right up there?” His voice cut through the shadows, startling Holly.
“Yes. Yes, of course,” she said. “However, you don’t look very comfortable.”
“I’m great,” he said.
“If you were so great, why are you still awake?”
“I could ask you the same,” he shot back at her, though his tone was soft.
“I can’t stop thinking about everything that happened tonight,” she said, lingering at the rail, not ready to go back to bed when she could stare down at masculine perfection.
Perfection she couldn’t touch. But it didn’t hurt to look.
“Cody won’t bother you again. You’ve proven you can take care of yourself.”
“Cody wasn’t always such a bully. I don’t know why he all of a sudden thinks I should belong to him. He never pushed the limits when Paul and I were dating. Then again, I didn’t stick around after Paul died.”
“I’m sorry about your boyfriend,” Simon said. “And your parents. That had to be hard to lose them all so close together.
She nodded, though he probably couldn’t see the movement in the murky darkness. “It was hard. But with Paul, I went to his funeral. Saw him at the viewing. He was well and truly dead. My parents’ boat capsized. Their bodies were never recovered.”
“Dead is dead. Permanent,” he said. “But no bodies? No proof of death? It leaves a glimmer of hope that they’re still alive.”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “If they are...why haven’t they tried to contact me?”
“Maybe they can’t.”
“Do you think they could be held captive somewhere? That for the last six months they’ve been unable to get word out that they’re alive?” Holly had prayed every day since their boat had been found that one day they’d show up after having been rescued from a deserted island.
As time had passed, hope had turned to despair. If they’d died, she’d have mourned their loss and eventually gotten on with her life.
“You’re probably in a constant flux of grief or hope. It’s hard to focus on regular, day-to-day existence.”
“Yeah.” It had been hard to just move on. “Part of it is that I feel like I should’ve done more to stop those things from happening. I should’ve convinced Paul not to go to New Orleans that morning. I should’ve gone to folks as soon as I saw the message in the sand.”
“No amount of regret or second-guessing can change the past. Yet we wallow in it, sabotaging our chances at a future, at happiness.”
His words echoed exactly what she’d felt over the last six months. “Yet, we hold onto the guilt, afraid to let go.”
“That by letting go, you aren’t repenting for your failure to keep them alive, or you aren’t showing them the love and respect they deserve by keeping them foremost in your heart and mind.”
“Wow. That’s deep,” she said. “You speak as if from experience. From your own loss.”
His silence was answer enough.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said softly, “whoever he or she was.”
“He. Johnny,” Simon said. “We were battle buddies. We were supposed to have each other’s backs.”
“What happened?”
“I should’ve had his front that day. I should’ve taken point,” Simon’s voice faded. Silence stretched for a moment. “He had a wife and son. I didn’t have anyone depending on me to come home. I shouldn’t have let him take the lead. Had I gone first, Johnny would be home with his wife and son.”
“And he would’ve been wondering if he’d done enough to keep you from dying.” Holly sighed. “Hindsight is too late. Again, you can’t change the past.”
“Reliving it over and over won’t make it better,” Simon said. “It makes for a miserable present and future.”
“There’s nothing like late-night discussions on philosophy.” Holly yawned, surprised that her discussion over the rail with Simon, no matter how deep and sad, had eased the tension she hadn’t been able to shake since she’d seen the message on the mirror in her Atlanta apartment.
“We can’t change the world tonight,” Simon’s smooth, deep tone floated up to her perch in the loft. “We’ll work on it tomorrow.”
She crawled up on the bed, pulled the comforter up to her chin and closed her eyes, relieved she wasn’t alone. And though she’d always clung fiercely to her independence, she was glad it was Simon providing her protection.
It seemed no sooner had she closed her eyes than she woke to sunlight streaming through the windows. The rich aroma of fresh-brewed coffee filled her senses, urging her to get up and go in search of a cup and the man who was brewing it.
Holly finger-combed her hair, hoping she didn’t look as bedraggled as usual. If this arrangement lasted more than a day or two, she’d have to bring a brush to the loft and find more suitable sleeping arrangements for her bodyguard.
She dug into the small closet for a pair of jeans and a ribbed knit pullover, the color of an eggplant. The shirt hugged her like a second skin, accentuating the swell of her breasts and her narrow waist.
As she descended the stairs, her bare feet made no sound, giving her the opportunity to study the man pouring coffee into a mug.
He’d changed from the shorts into a pair of jeans but had yet to hide his broad shoulders under a shirt. Daylight gave his skin a golden glow. Every movement was a study in flexing muscles.
Having danced with him the previous night, Holly was fully aware of how solid he was. Still, her fingers itched to feel the warmth of his skin stretched over those taut muscles.
Her mouth watered, heat rushed up her chest into her cheeks and her core flamed with unexpected desire.
Simon chose that moment to turn. Though he wore the jeans fully zipped, the top button hadn’t been secured.
To Holly, it represented full-on temptation.
Add the sexy smile spreading across his face, and the man was chipping away at her resistance.
“Perfect timing,” he said. “You can have the first cup while I find a shirt.”
“Oh, no hurry,” she was too quick to say. “I mean, about the coffee. You made it, you deserve the first cup.”
His lips twisted. “Damn, and I was hoping you’d be the guinea pig and test it before I poured one for me.” He winked.
“No, really. I want to duck into the bathroom. I need to tame my bed hair before I frighten the natives.”
His gaze swept over her face and hair. “You look beautiful and refreshed.”
“Liar on the beautiful,” she said. “Is refreshed code for interesting. You know, that word you use when you aren’t impressed, but don’t want to be rude?”
Simon laughed. “You are beautiful, and you look well rested. The dark circles under your eyes have faded.”
Holly touched her fingers to her face. “They were pretty bad, weren’t they?” She grimaced. “It’s all a result of no sleep and waiting for the next shoe to drop on the curse that’s been plaguing me for the last six months. But thanks to you, I slept well last night—sadly, at your expense.”
“I managed to sleep,” he said. “Despite being about two feet too short, the sofa was soft enough for me to get semi-comfortable.”
With a frown, Holly studied the offending piece of furniture. “We need to do something about that. A man your size can’t sleep like that every night. I can’t even stretch out on the couch, and I’m at least six inches shorter than you.”
Simon shook his head. “I can manage. Go. Do your morning thing. I’ll see what I can whip up for breakfast.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You protect and cook? I should’ve hired a Brotherhood Protector ages ago.”
He tossed a hand towel at her. “Keep it up, and you can make your own breakfast.”
Holly squeezed by him, her hip brushing against his on her way through the kitchen to the bathroom.
Once she was inside with the door closed, she stared into the mirror at a woman with pink cheeks and a sparkle in her eye. She’d enjoyed sparring with her bodyguard. And the view had been better than average.
Hell, who was she kidding? The man was drool-worthy. It had been all she could do not to run her fingers over his shoulders as she’d moved past him.
After brushing her teeth, she smoothed the tangles from her thick hair and pulled it up into a loose bun on top of her head. As an afterthought, she loosened a few stray tendrils to curl around her ears.
A little mascara and a dab of lipstick were all she needed, and she stepped out of the bathroom to find Simon fully dressed in a clean T-shirt and boots, scooping fluffy yellow scrambled eggs out of a skillet onto two plates.
When toast popped up out of the toaster, he added a piece to each plate, along with a fork, and handed one to her.
Simon nodded to the sliding glass doors that led off the living room onto a patio area overlooking the bayou. “Shall we eat on the deck?”
“Absolutely,” Holly said. “It was one of the selling points for renting here instead of a house in town. That and availability.”
Simon led the way, flicked the lock open and slid the door open. Then he moved to the side, allowing her to pass through first.