Page 135 of The Bodyguard

I sipped my beer.

“Who was she?”

“The love of my life,” he said, staring out the window longingly. Then seemed to snap out of it. “Why aren’t you there with her?”

I stared down into my beer.

“Let me see. Movie star falls in love with bodyguard who didn’t protect her from being shot—it’s not exactly a great love story.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want a love story. Maybe she wants you,” he says.

“Then why hasn’t she—”

Damn.

Saying it out loud, I realized what a dick I’ve been. Every single excuse I was looking for just sounded pathetic. I never gave us a chance. I’ve never asked her if she would want to be with me.

If she loves me.

Savannah has lost everyone and now I’ve deserted her, too.

What a prick.

But it could be too late. I might have pulled my head out of my ass a few days ago, but now I’m standing on the edge of the cliff not knowing how she’ll react when she sees me.

When I tell her how I feel.

This could be a terrible idea, as I said, but I’ve faced scarier things—debatable—so as my heart beats loudly in my eardrums and I watch Savannah walk toward me, I curse and draw in a sharp breath.

I tug on my tuxedo shirt collar as the door opens. Her team gathers her dress, and she climbs in.

When she’s settled, she glances down the length of the limousine and gasps.

“Ryder.”

“Hello, sweetheart.” I rasp.

––––––––

“I’LL BE IN the other car.” Briar winks as she closes the door.

It’s taken a team to set this entire thing up. So if Savannah rejects me and I have to climb out of the limo, it will be a rather public affair.

Fuck it.

Risking my pride is worth it.

She’s worth it.

“What are you doing here?” Savannah asks, looking confused.

I climb out of my seat and move down the vehicle, sitting as close as I can, given the expanse of her skirt.

“Max sent me,” I say.

It’s a dumb thing to say, but I’m a soldier, not Romeo.

“Ryder.” She shakes her head as the limo starts moving and we settle back into our seats. Her eyes widen and I see her panic for a moment.

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