Code Name Genesis (Jameson Force Security 1)

But Kynan nixed the idea of us going out shopping. He said it wasn’t safe. I told him it was if he was with me, to which he replied, “I’ve got other things I need to do that take priority. You’ll just have to stay here.”

I wasn’t happy about that. I’m a prisoner in my own home, and I’ve never had my freedom curtailed this way. At least, not since before I met Kynan and my mom was “managing” me.

I’m not sure what expression my face held when Kynan told me I couldn’t go, but before I could even take a breath, he’d drawn me into his arms for a protective, sympathetic embrace. I was stiff and held my arms to my side at first, not understanding a damn thing about what was happening. But Kynan just wrapped his arms around me, squeezed gently, and kissed the top of my head ever so gently. He then murmured, “I know this is hard on you, Jos. It will be over soon, though. I promise.”

I succumbed. My arms went around his waist, and I let him hug me. I let him envelop me in his strength, and I relished in the comfort and security.

“What if this drags on?” I asked while pressing my cheek into his chest and trying not to notice how great he smelled. “What if he doesn’t come after me right away? You have a new business you’re trying to get up and running. I know you can’t stay here forever.”

Kynan’s chest rumbled with an easygoing laugh. “Then I’ll have to cart you off to Pittsburgh with me, I guess.”

I didn’t tell him that was a ludicrous notion, even though it absolutely is. I didn’t press him for a better answer. Instead, I let my mind wander for just a moment about what it would be like to leave this life and start over again somewhere else.

With Kynan.

My musings were cut short, though, when Kynan released me. I coughed to clear my throat, turning away so he couldn’t see my red face. I muttered something like, “I’m sure it will all work out for the best.”

I then retreated to my room, called Lynn, who called Harry, who then went shopping for me.

And here they are.

Lynn steps further into my room, then plops down on my bed. “Save yourself the time and just go with Harry’s suggestion.”

I chuckle, crawling onto my bed to sit opposite of Lynn. Eyeballing the boxes, I decide to take her advice. Harry’s got better taste than I do.

“Saw Kynan working in the kitchen,” Lynn remarks as she pulls her legs up and crosses them Indian-style. “He said Bebe and Rachel left to go back to Vegas.”

With a nod, I mimic her movement. I pick at a piece of nonexistent lint on my yoga pants. “Feels weird with them gone, even though they were only here for a few days.”

“And now you’re forced to deal with Kynan,” Lynn quips, and my head snaps up in astonishment.

“What do you mean?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant, but there’s a level of hysteria in my voice.

Lynn rolls her eyes. Such kind eyes most of the time. Lynn has become a second mother figure to me after I let my own mother go as my manager. She shakes her head, which is covered with a short cap of the most luxurious premature silver hair I’d ever seen on another human. I once tried to get her to admit to me she colored it, but she swore on her dog’s life—a Yorkie named Bob—that it was her natural hair.

“Come on, Jos,” she chides. “Kynan is something to you. You haven’t told me what, and I’ve tried to mind my own business, but since we’re sitting here talking and all… why don’t you just go ahead and spill it?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I reply lamely, dropping my gaze so I’m not looking directly at her as I lie.

“Joslyn.” Her tone is low and warning in nature. “Don’t even think to bullshit me. I see the way that man looks at you. You have your head stuck in the sand most of the time when it comes to men. Half the time, he looks at you like he’s seen a ghost come back to life. The other half, it’s with a hunger that actually makes me fear for you. In a good kind of way, you know?”

Her words send a tremble up my spine. “Really?”

“Really,” she replies with a firm nod. “So what’s the deal with you two?”

I stare a moment, wondering if I should tell her about the real story between us. Because if I do, I’m going to have to tell her about my jumbled-up feelings. Once I do that, it becomes real.

Ultimately, I open my mouth and the story just comes pouring out. I told her about how my mom insisted on hiring his company to protect me even though I thought it was stupid, but that once he’d been assigned to me, I quickly changed my mind. How we spent so much time alone together, hours just talking about everything under the sun. I told her with no shame about the attraction, but we didn’t act upon it because he was a professional and I was too inexperienced to know how to make a move. But once we did come together, the fireworks we produced were shattering to me. No one since has come close to replicating those feelings.