Page 111 of South Beach Bodyguards

She went instantly still, her shoulders stiffening. She turned and stared in to my eyes. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make this hard.”

Then she realized what she had said and her cheeks went pink. I couldn’t see her eyes behind the sunglasses. I bit my lip, but the laugh escaped nonetheless. “You did make this hard. Very hard.” I couldn’t help myself.

Miranda cleared her throat. “Put me down, you goof.”

“I’m just doing my job, Mandy.” But I did relax my hold on her, and carefully set her down. “How’s your ankle?”

She winced a little, but put her full weight on it. “I’m fine, thanks.” She licked her lips, a quick swipe of her pink tongue over her plump bottom lip. It was painted with a neutral lipstick or lip gloss or whichever of the two was the one that made a woman’s lips shiny and sticky, with a hint of turpentine scent. Shellac, that’s what it should be called. It wouldn’t stop me from kissing her though if she would let me. But she would probably kick me in the dick if I even tried.

She saw me as Max’s little brother, nothing more.

But Max was gone and everything was different now.

That didn’t mean jack shit though. Nothing was different to Miranda.

“We have to go,” she said. “Can you escort me to the hotel with my driver? I don’t need any more delays. Geez, I think every other show someone tries to rush me thinking I’m Lola. Which is the whole reason I’m here of course. But that guy was huge and could have squished me.” She smiled. “Like a pancake.”

To give her props, she didn’t look scared. Though it didn’t thrill me to hear this was a regular occurrence. But of course it was. Fans were always wanting to touch their favorite star. Again, that’s why she had her job. Miranda was trained in self-defense. I knew that because I had poked into her business over the years. I told myself I was just looking out for her but it was more than that.

“I need to clear it with Lola’s team.” I was still on the clock. “Let me make a call.”

This was the downside of working for a legitimate firm. Channels of command and paperwork. I called my boss, who called Lola’s team, who gave permission. It only took a minute, but Miranda was already impatiently looking into the hallway. I pulled her back. “Don’t stick your head in the hallway.”

She let out a deep huff of air, frustrated. “I have to go.”

“What’s the big deal? I talked to Lola’s people.”

Miranda crossed her arms over her ample chest. “This is my last night working for Lola. I want to end on a high note. Lola is throwing a little party for me later in the hotel and I just want everything to go smoothly.”

“Did you get a new job?” I was distracted again by all that exposed skin. She was more fit now than she had been in the past. Years of dancing professionally had honed her muscles. Before she had been in shape from genetics, youth, and her love of dance. But now she was sculpted. A work of art resulting from healthy eating and a job that required huge amounts of training. I had no idea why she was walking away from Lola’s tour, which was only halfway through its US run. It had always seemed like a job she loved.

“No. I’m retiring from dance. I’m thirty years old, you know. There are girls who are on this tour who are nineteen. I’m ready for something else, to live back in Miami again. Have a real home for the first time in a long time.”

“You’re back in Miami for good?” Interesting. The possibilities to charm Miranda into my bed would be endless. I felt a fissure of excitement. This was unexpected good news.

“Yep.” She smiled brightly. “The plan is to go to culinary school. And have a baby.”

What the fuck. That would be my jaw dropping and my dick shriveling. “You’re pregnant?”

“Not yet.” She licked her bottom lip and shifted on her feet. She looked nervous and a little shaky laugh confirmed that. “I don’t have a boyfriend either in case you’re wondering. I want to have a baby alone.”

The door behind her flew open and a man with a headset was standing there. I wasn’t even sure how to process what the hell Miranda was telling me. She wanted to have a baby alone? That seemed… exhausting. I love kids but shit, I wouldn’t willingly want to raise one solo. Yet I was also totally relieved that she wasn’t knocked up by some douchebag backup dancer or worse, an accountant.

“Miranda, car is waiting, let’s go.”

“Great, thanks, Bill.” Miranda shot me a smile. “You coming? You should join me for the party at the hotel. Hang out for a while. Maybe I can ask you that question.”

“You can ask me now.” She had my curiosity at an all-time high. What the hell was even going on in Miranda’s head? I had no idea. But I figured she couldn’t shock me any more than she already had with the baby comment.

Wrong. I was totally wrong.

Once the guy disappeared from the doorway and we stepped into the hallway she said, “Okay. I want a baby, like I said. But what I would really like is to make a baby with you.”

When I was a kid I took a baseball right in the eye. For a second, I felt nothing, heard nothing. It was like time paused and my vision and hearing disappeared. Then the shock of the pain came racing in.

This felt like that. For a second, I couldn’t even process what Miranda had said. Then the shock had me saying, “What the fuck did you just say?”

A baby? A baby. With me? She wanted to make a baby with me.

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