Twisted Games (Twisted 2)

“Thank you,” Bridget said. “I appreciate you dealing with him, even though it’s frustrating it took someone else to intervene before he got the hint. Isn’t me saying no enough?” Her brow puckered with annoyance.

“Some people are idiots, and some people are assholes.” I stepped aside to allow a group of giggling partygoers past. “Just so happened you ran into one who was both.”

That earned me a small smile. “Mr. Larsen, I do believe we’re having a civil conversation.”

“Are we? Someone check the weather in hell,” I deadpanned.

Bridget’s smile widened, and I’d be damned if I didn’t feel a small kick in my gut at the sight.

“How about a drink?” She tilted her head toward the bar. “On me.”

I shook my head. “I’m on the clock, and I don’t drink alcohol.”

Surprise flashed across her face. “Ever?”

“Ever.” No drugs, no alcohol, no smoking. I’d seen the havoc they wreaked, and I had no interest in becoming another statistic. “Not my thing.”

Bridget’s expression told me she suspected there was more to the story than I was letting on, but she didn’t press the issue, which I appreciated. Some people were too damn nosy.

“Sorry that took so long!” Jules returned with Stella in tow. “The line at the bathroom was insane.” Her eyes roved between me and Bridget. “Everything okay?”

“Yes. Mr. Larsen was keeping me company while you guys were gone,” Bridget said without missing a beat.

“Really?” Jules arched an eyebrow. “How nice of him.”

Neither Bridget nor I took the bait.

“Calm down, J,” I heard Stella say as I returned to the table now that I’d handled the situation with Frat Boy and her friends were back. “It’s his job to look after her.”

Damn right.It was my job, and Bridget was my client. Nothing more, nothing less.

Bridget glanced at me, and our eyes locked for a split second before she looked away.

My hand flexed on my thigh.

Sure, I was attracted to her. She was beautiful, smart, and had a spine of steel. Of course I was attracted to her. That didn’t mean I should or would act on it.

In my five years as a bodyguard, I’d never once crossed my professional boundaries.

And I wasn’t about to start now.