Protecting His Beautiful Lover (Southern Soldiers of Fortune 3)

And maybe, if he told himself that enough times, he’d believe it.

“I know your job is important to you,” she continued, sitting back at last and giving his poor, misguided libido a rest. “And I can relate. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but the chairman of our board of directors called me into a meeting today to tell me the same thing. They wanted me to take time off, since I’d been directly attacked, but I told them no. I can’t let up on this legislation until I’m sure it’s going to pass. I mean…”

As she talked, Clint studied her more closely. Man, she was pretty. Creamy skin, bright hazel eyes. And that hair. Thick and lush and so soft looking, his fingertips itched to touch it. That mouth of hers, pink and pert, kept moving though he wasn’t really listening to what she was saying anymore. Instead he wondered if she tasted as luscious as she looked.

“What do you think?” Tara asked, her smile expectant and her eyes sparkling with interest. “Or is that a conflict of interest for you?”

Well, shit.

Clint had no idea what she was talking about, and he only had himself to blame. Again.

Fuck.

He coughed and fidgeted in his seat, trying to buy some time so he didn’t look even stupider than he already felt. Man, he’d never thought he was like his mother—getting distracted at the drop of a hat—but now it seemed he took after her way more than he wanted to admit. And didn’t that just suck even harder than the rest of this situation. His mother was the last person in the universe Clint wanted to be like.

Finally, he couldn’t pretend any longer and said, “I’m sorry. Can you repeat the question?”

Tara gave him an odd look. “I asked if I co

uld hire you to be my personal bodyguard.”

Oh.

His first reaction was hell no. Based on his reactions to her whenever they were together, watching her twenty-four-seven was likely to drive him insane. Or at least give him the worst case of blue balls in the history of mankind.

But then, as he sat there and thought about it, maybe it wasn’t such a crazy idea. It would give him a chance to suss out more about what happened that day at the rally, and maybe being around her would help him uncover who might be behind the attack. Plus, it would give him a chance to atone for his failures that day, as long as he could keep his mind on the task at hand and out of her pants.

He could do that. He would do that. Because otherwise, this wouldn’t work at all.

Clint was nothing if not disciplined. He just needed to call on his famous, well-honed control.

But there was one question he needed answered first. “It was your board of directors who insisted that I be put on leave. Are they going to have a problem with me being your bodyguard?”

She thought about this for a minute, then shook her head. “I’m paying for you out of my own pocket, so I don’t see where they have the right to object. I was told it was my choice—and you’re the one I trust.”

“Okay then,” he said, before he talked himself out of it again. “You’ve got yourself a bodyguard, Ms. Crumb.”

“Tara, please. And yay!” She stood and came around the desk to shake his hand at the same time that the office door opened and Ashley came running back inside.

“Daddy! Daddy!” his daughter said, jumping around his legs with excitement. “You won’t believe what I saw. It was so cool…”

While Ashley rambled on about her tour, Clint grinned over at his new client. “Tara. I’ll call you later, once we get home, so we can iron out all the details. Will that work?”

“Yes. Absolutely.” She gave him her cell number, then waved as they headed for the door. “Talk to you soon.”

“Yep.” Clint ran back to grab Ashley’s iPad from the sofa, then headed out into the hall, feeling an odd mix of anxiety and anticipation tightening his gut. He’d need to run this by the guys at SSoF and find someone to watch Ashley while he worked, but man. He’d be working again. And if all went well, he might even be able to get to the bottom of what happened with the shooting. He felt better than he had in days now, all thanks to Tara.

5

Once they were assured that it wouldn’t be an issue with GGE’s board of directors, the guys at SSoF were surprisingly okay with his new assignment. In fact, they both encouraged him to go for it. So yeah. Check one item off the list.

It actually worked out great with Ashley too. She had kindergarten, and then after school, his next-door neighbor, an older retired teacher by the name of Mrs. Crocker, had volunteered to have his daughter stay with her until he could get home—which wouldn’t be too late, thankfully. Tara had said that once he installed security measures on her house, she wouldn’t need protection once she was in for the evening. Clint had talked with the woman casually over the backyard fence a few times and knew she used to teach at Ashley’s elementary school. She also headed the neighborhood watch group, so she seemed trustworthy enough. The only worry he had was Ashley’s opinion about the schedule change, since she wasn’t really big on change, but she’d gone over and inspected Mrs. Crocker’s garden several times and came back announcing it would be fine, since it would give her an opportunity to enlighten the older lady about the virtues of composting.

Better her than me, Clint thought, chuckling to himself as he headed over to Tara’s place later that night. Funny how all the pieces had fallen into place, like it was meant to be or something. He pulled up and parked in front of her little two-story Tudor-style house that looked like it was probably built in the 1920s. He got out and surveyed the area, taking note of all the exits and entry points to the home as he went. He’d need to know the layout of her place by heart for security reasons, if he was going to be effective. The neighborhood seemed relatively quiet and well-kept, with lots of manicured lawns and fenced-in yards. Not that different from his own area. That was good, since it would be easier for him to use the knowledge he had to design a layout for the cameras and such.

On the porch, he knocked on the door, noting the elaborate stone surrounding it with an arch at the top. The white limestone contrasted nicely with the red brick surrounding it. There were a few potted plants on either side, and a small garden. He wondered if Tara spent a lot of time tending it. The house itself looked nice enough, if a bit worn around the edges. Could use a new coat of paint on the timber trim, maybe some mortar around the brick window casings and on those tall chimneys. His place was a fixer-upper too, and he took pride in doing most of the reno himself, on the weekends and at night. Two-story and four bedrooms, it was bigger than he and Ashley needed, but he’d turned one of the bedrooms into a yoga studio for himself, so it worked out in the end.

He waited another moment, checked his watch, then rang the bell when no one answered his knock. He’d called before heading over to make sure Tara would be home and she said she would be. Huh. He leaned back to try to see in the tall, narrow window, but the curtains were pulled. There was a light on, though, so… His mind started spinning worst-case scenarios, because yeah. That’s what a security-expert-for-hire did. Had the person responsible for the attack at the rally this past Saturday somehow gotten Tara’s home address and come here? Was she in the house, hurt or worse? Should he bust down the door and charge to her rescue?