“Huh.”
Gib patted Sam’s thick shoulders all affectionate like. Damn. The man’s muscles had muscles. How much time did he even spend in the gym? Not that he was preening or arrogant. I’d never met anyone less into worrying about what he looked like. It was all work-work-work for the man.
“What are the dogs up to today?” he asked Gib.
Immediately, the child raised his chin and “aroo-ed” at the top of his voice. As howls went, it was pretty spectacular. This task completed, he climbed off the big man and ran back to his former position standing in front of the TV.
Sam smiled. “Kids get pretty obsessed with shows. This one’s been his favorite for a while.”
“Talking dogs are pretty cool, I guess.”
For a moment, he just stared at me.
“Have I still got yogurt in my hair?”
“No, I got it all out.”
I nodded, turning my attention to my hands. It was easier than looking at him or dealing with all of the confusion his presence inspired. Time for a new manicure. One of my thumbnails was even chipped. To be fair, it kind of matched the whole food-fights-with-an-infant theme I had going on. Stylists and influencers would be so jealous.
“You never used to be nervous around me,” he said quietly.
“Nervous around you? Seriously?” I scoffed. “Maybe if you weren’t crowding me...”
The man didn’t move an inch. Jerk. “We didn’t get much of a chance to talk last night. What bought you back to the West Coast?”
“I wanted to see my family.”
“That all?”
“Is that honestly so bizarre?”
“Combined with volunteering to look after Gib, it is a bit, yes.”
I bit back the word asshole. Just. “What is this, an interrogation? Are you worried that I’m a security threat or something?”
“Of course not. My job is to make sure that everyone’s safe,” he said. “That they’re okay. And that includes you. You’re part of the family too.”
“Well, thanks but no thanks for your professional concern. I’m fine.”
He just looked at me.
“Don’t you ever switch off from your job?” I asked.
“I’ll switch off when the world’s a safe place and nobody needs me around anymore. But we both know the world’s not a safe place.”
“That’s very Superman of you, Sam. Anyway, I’m not sure I’ll be around that long.”
“Guess we’ll see.” He rose to his feet and without another word wandered off toward the hallway. Thankfully, Gib was too engrossed in his show to be paying attention to the somewhat awkward conversation. Not that I was intimidated by a small child or what he thought of me. Or of an executive protection officer’s opinion, for that matter.
I was fine. Everything was fine. With a deep calming breath, I turned my hand, hiding the chip in my polish. I’d fix it later.
I stared mindlessly at the contents of my closet. The next job on my list of not particularly necessary things to do alone in my room. First had come the pedicure, facial, long soak in the tub while catching up on the entertainment industry news on my smart phone. Followed by eyebrow maintenance, some replying to emails, and my moisturizing routine. Now for this…how much exactly to unpack was the question. Outfits suitable for the New York party scene were less appropriate for wrangling small children and my previous work gear pretty much fell under the same category. None of it would stand up to the kind of rough usage a toddler could provide. Food fights. Shuffling around my knees picking up toys and such. Chasing after short, evil children on the run from their vegetables and bath time.
Fair to say I no longer quite recognized myself or my life. But I’d needed a job. More importantly, I’d needed to come home.
“Hey,” said Lizzy, wandering in without knocking. Guess it sort of was her house. “What are you doing?”
“Just organizing myself.” Caught out minus the heavy makeup, I kept my face angled down. Hopefully, with the low lighting, Lizzy wouldn’t see anything.