Page 39 of Blue Moon

Luna giggled. “That’s so lame. What was your codename? Or aren’t you allowed to tell me?”

“Baby.”

“Baby?”

“I was the youngest out of my BUD/S class to make it.”

“Bud-what?”

“Basic Underwater Demolition-slash-SEAL training. And now Knox is meandering around the house calling Caro ‘baby,’ and I look up every damn time.”

Which Slater always noticed and ribbed him about. Bunch of assholes.

Luna lowered her voice an octave, and the smokiness she put in it did inappropriate things to his dick. “What if I call you ‘baby’?” she asked, and then she started singing. “Baby, baby, baby, can’t you see? You’re the only one that’s meant for me.”

Ryder glanced at her in the mirror. “When it comes from your lips, I can live with it.”

She continued, “Every time you walk into the room. I get this feeling, my heart goes?—”

Ryder caught the movement in his peripheral vision, a flash of royal blue a split second before Luna’s eyes widened. He swerved to avoid the moped, but it was too late. The photographer clipped the bumper of the SUV, his camera flew onto the hood, and the passenger-side front wheel ran over his leg before the vehicle skidded to a halt. The crunch sent a chill through Ryder’s bones, but it was Luna’s scream he’d never forget.

“Stay there. Head down.”

“Is he dead?”

“I don’t think so.”

Ryder’s pulse raced as he assessed the scene. Ninety percent chance that the guy groaning on the pavement was a paparazzo with poor driving skills, ten percent chance he was a distraction for something bigger. They knew Mark A had to be close.

Other vehicles were already beginning to stop, although many ignored the injured man and drove on. Ryder’s first call after he scanned the area was to the Blackwood control room.

“Ryder Metcalfe, Special Projects team. I just clipped an idiot paparazzo on a moped—can you coordinate an ambulance?”

“A paparazzo? You got a client with you?”

“Complicated situation, but yeah.”

Emmy had sanctioned this…role, and she said she owed Luna. Ryder was certain she’d authorise the cavalry coming out to help.

“And you’re in…Vegas?”

“Right.”

Ryder had tracking software on his phone. He could turn it off if he needed privacy, but most of the time he left it on. You never knew when an emergency would arise. Which reminded him, he should broach that subject with Luna. She carried a phone the way kids carried a security blanket.

But he’d do it later. Right now, he had a wiry fucker writhing on the ground and calling him every name under the sun.

“Lie still. There’s an ambulance on the way.”

“Pendejo! You broke my leg!”

“Rules of the road apply to everyone.”

“You swerved into me. I’m gonna sue you for every cent you have.”

“The dashcam will say otherwise.”

Ryder definitely hadn’t swerved into the prick, but if he hadn’t been distracted by Luna singing, he might have been able to swerve out of the way in time. This was why bodyguards shouldn’t get emotionally involved with their principals. He couldn’t properly protect Luna or anyone else if he wasn’t one hundred percent committed to the job.

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