Page 10 of Trust Me

“They’re not correlated. It’s not like I chose it from a line-up.”

“True. What would you have chosen, if you could?”

“Bears. Or sharks. If I stick to working in large cities, I’ll never have to encounter them.”

“But you have to use knives to cook. I’ve seen you chop stuff.”

“I’ve trained myself to conquer my weakness,” he says, ever so serious, but with a glint of humor in his eyes. I chuckle and shake my head. Should have known he’d have a well-thought-out answer.

When we get back to the house, we go through our usual routine of me taking off my coat and hanging it on the coat rack by the back door while Everett loosens his tie and takes his jacket off.

But as I turn to walk to my room and change out of my traveling clothes, Everett gently grabs my elbow. I freeze. He runs his hand down my arm to catch my fingers, a deep warmth trailing his touch. It’s sudden and unexpected and I wouldn’t be surprised to find the sleeve of my silk blouse incinerated. He has never touched me so intimately and it’s making me far too hopeful.

“Laina,” he says in a husky voice.

My stomach flips. That was not a touch of protection and that voice, that tone, it’s not one of warning or caution. I look up at him and the intensity in his eyes is new. I’m desperate to know what’s going through his mind right now.

“I’m going to say something and all I need is a yes or no answer.” He swallows and it’s loud in the pensive silence. “I’m doing this because I care about you and you are my responsibility. I am still your bodyguard and I am not going to leave you on your own.”

He’s taking his time to clarify that this is just a job for him. But ridiculous hope still flares in my chest.

“If you want to tell me about what happened on your trip,” he says in a voice that is dropping closer and closer to a whisper, “in order for both of us to be protected, you have to…we need to get married.”

I blink.

“You want to marry me?” I ask, slow and deliberate, not wanting any miscommunication on this point.

He nods. “Yes.”

Be still, my heart.

“If we are married, the law considers us one,” he clarifies. “Whatever we say to each other is protected and we cannot be called to testify against each other. Whatever we talk about is completely confidential, a secret between the two of us.”

My eyes go wide and I’m trying to remind myself to breathe. He’s thought about this already. Wait, he knows something. There’s something going on. And I don’t miss the way that this isn’t about want for him. This is a need. Not for love, but for legal reasons, and his job as my bodyguard.

I put my hand out to steady myself and end up grabbing his forearm. This proposal is the strangest, most brilliant solution I could have possibly come up with. But holy crap.

I avoid meeting his gaze, not wanting him to see how much this is affecting me. I realize he’s only proposing a marriage of convenience, legal convenience, but there’s danger in this too. I would be in grave danger of loving and losing him in a way that would break me.

Everett takes my hands and I grasp onto his like a drowning person. He clears his throat. “I don’t know where the line is, if this is totally unprofessional,” he says. “But I want to help you. And whatever may be going on, I need to know it all in order to protect you well.”

I allow myself to look in his eyes. His face is earnest and reassuring, not a trace of ulterior motives. I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. I need him. I trust him.And there’s a part of me that desperately wants to lean into the make-believe, the fairytale, and allow myself this one last daydream come to life - marrying Everett.

“Why are you doing this? You’re leaving in a few weeks,” I remind him.

“And I’ll do my job well here, right up until the minute I leave you,” he says with promise in his eyes. I hate hearing him use the word “leave,” but I love his eyes. I love his loyalty and his caring heart. I love everything about him. As a friend, of course. I can allow myself to say I love him without it meaning something with real feelings. I can admire and adore him without falling for him.

I can do professional. I can. This is nothing different than another day on the job for both of us. Working and living with Everett is like constantly walking past a statue in a fine art museum. I can admire its exquisiteness, the handsome details and distinguished shaping of a noble statue, but I’m not going to take it home and build a life around it and live happily ever after. One, museum security would frown upon that and two, well, you just don't do that, out of respect for the art and for personal sanity.

He’s my friend, officially his job title is executive protection officer, and he is here to protect me, he’s not coming for my heart. Be cool.

“If I say yes, how soon can everything be legal?” I ask.

“If we run down to city hall and get the license today, we can get married tomorrow. You don’t need to change your name and we’ll end it whenever you want.”

The mention of my name reminds me of what comes with me, what’s attached to me.

“If I say yes, you have to know there are huge implications to doing this without a prenup. I don’t mean that I don’t trust you,” I quickly add when he frowns. “But I’m putting a lot on the line and trusting you implicitly to not claim anything in the divorce.”

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