Page 24 of A Bride for the Bodyguard

“Chocolate ganache,” Marlie announces, her voice as sweet as the dessert she’s describing.

I nod, my eyes drifting from the delicate macaroon in her hand to the curve of her hip outlined by those tight yoga pants.

“Salted caramel.” She holds up another one.

Her fingers are dusted with powdered sugar, and I suddenly find myself wondering what they taste like.

“And this one?” I manage to ask, pulling my gaze back to the macaroons.

“Oh, it’s an exotic passionfruit concoction.” She grins at me, her enthusiasm infectious.

It’s clear how much effort she puts into Macaroons by Marlie. Her dedication is nothing short of awe-inspiring.

“You want to try another one?” She offers a raspberry-filled creation, but I shake my head.

“I have a better idea,” I smirk. “How about we take a break?”

She looks surprised but then nods in agreement as she removes her apricot-colored apron, revealing more of that fitted attire that does an excellent job showcasing her figure.

“Sure.”

“I’ll refresh your coffee.” I stand up and head toward the coffee pot. The scent of fresh coffee fills the air, and I pour two cups.

Marlie trails behind me, stepping out onto the balcony where the salty sea breeze plays with strands of her brunette hair. The view from here is breathtaking but not nearly as captivating as the woman next to me.

I sink into one of the balcony chairs and tug Marlie down into my lap. She gives a soft, weary sigh that stirs something protective in me.

“Tomorrow’s going to be such a busy day,” she murmurs.

“Excited?” I try to gauge her mood. There’s an undercurrent of tension in her voice that sets off my internal alarms.

She nods, but there’s something about the way her lips press together that tells me she’s holding back.

As I absentmindedly twirl a lock of her hair around my finger, I probe further. “Did Melanie and her boyfriend get into town okay?”

“Yeah, they did.” Her words are punctuated by a small laugh that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Actually, my whole family is here now—Daphne and Cody too, and even Dean.”

Her giggle rings out then as she continues. “Melanie is showing them around Barton Beach like she owns the place! She even took them to see the potential new spot for Macaroons by Marlie.”

At this, I freeze momentarily. A few weeks ago, Patricia found an ideal vacant spot for Marlie’s store—the owner was even offering it at an unbeatable lease price.

But Marlie had yet to make a move on it, and I suspected our marriage was part of her hesitation.

I swallow past the lump in my throat—my feelings for Marlie run deeper than she knows—and force myself back into the conversation with a light chuckle. “Sounds like fun.” Then, with mock seriousness, I add, “I’ll have to warn John about one of the famous Walker brothers staying at Barton Beach Hotel.”

Marlie laughs again, this time more freely, brushing away my concern with a wave of her hand.

“Cody isn’t that famous.”

I can tell she’s pleased by the playful banter. Yet beneath our easy exchange, I can’t shake off the sense of unease.

I vow to myself that I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure her dreams come true—even if it means revealing my own heart in the process.

“What about you, Jack? Are you excited for the reception?” Marlie’s voice pierces my thoughts like a ray of sunshine breaking through a cloudy sky. “Or are you too worried about work?”

A chuckle rumbles in my chest. “I’m excited.”

But there’s an undercurrent of understanding in her question that tugs at me. These past few weeks spent guarding Diego have been nothing short of a minefield, each day a new problem to navigate. And despite all my efforts, the identity of the rat remains elusive.

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