Page 83 of The Bodyguard

“God, Ryder.” I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him like I imagine a mom hugs their child.

Which is weird given we are both naked.

And smell like sex.

“It’s fine.” His hands grip my waist. “I shouldn’t have said that. Sometimes...”

I relax and sit back, feeling his soft cock underneath me. “Sometimes?”

“Some memories just hit harder.” Ryder runs his hand through his hair and gives me a sad smile.

“Tell me.” I run my fingers across his tattoos on his pecs and lift my eyes. “Were you going to say a woman?”

His eyes dart away, and I see the ghosts within them.

“You don’t want to hear this.” Those blue globes lock with mine. “I don’t want the darkness of what I’ve seen to touch your soul.”

I glance down, feeling like a stupid, spoiled princess. Boohoo, my daddy didn’t call me. This man has risked his life for years to protect US citizens.

God, I’m pathetic.

“Well, I am grateful. Very. For you and every person in the military who protects us. I might not think it every single minute of every day, but without men like you, we wouldn’t live the life we do now.”

He nods.

“Thank you. The hardest part is the politics. We are fighting wars. None of us really know who the good guys and bad guys are.” He shakes his head. “Don’t get me wrong, all civilians are innocent. All of them. On every bit of soil on earth.”

“So, how do you know?”

“Yeah, you don’t some days.” He runs his hand through his hair again. “We’ve seen a lot of things that don’t line up with what we’re told or what you see in the news.”

I listen, letting him talk.

“The brain wants to put things in little buckets. They are bad. We are good. It isn’t that simple. History is what we are taught. The question is, have we been told everything?”

“Or the truth?” I say.

“Exactly.”

“So you left?” I ask.

“No. I’m a proud American and soldier. I’m not a politician and that’s where things need to change. I left when I failed a mission and knew I was no longer capable of being an effective operator.”

Failed? I can’t imagine Ryder failing at anything.

I wish he’d tell me so I could understand him. Know him better.

His hand lifts and cups my face again as he looks deep into my soul.

“A woman died because of me.” The pain on his face is palpable.

“Oh, baby,” I place my hand over his. “I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.”

He leans in and kisses me hard, staying there for a long moment. Then his eyes find mine. “It was, and I will live with it for the rest of my life.”

We stay like that for a while longer, just being and kissing and touching, and I feel a closeness with him I’m not sure I’ve ever shared with anyone.

I might not have got the whole story, but I know Ryder hasn’t told many people what he shared with me tonight.

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