Page 116 of South Beach Bodyguards

But this? Her interest in Alejandro made my gut hurt. It was a weird mingling of my two worlds and I did not like it. Not one freaking bit.

Given that I had no right to feel anything at all, I decided it was time for me to go back to my own hotel room. It was my last night on the tour. The next day I was moving in with a friend for a few days, and then on to my own apartment. My first real apartment in years. That was a pleasant distraction.

A home. Just me and eventually a baby. It had been the focus of all my financial goals the last few years and here it was—the big moment. A total life change. That’s why I was feeling strange. Touring with Lola had been my world ever since Max had disappeared. My distraction, my passion, my family.

They had replaced that aching hole in my heart after Max had disappeared.

It felt so emotional to be leaving them, but also to have Alejandro mingling with my friends. It was overwhelming and all I wanted to do was run. Down the hall and in to the future.

I drained my champagne. “I’m heading off to bed, everyone. Tomorrow is a big day for me.” I smiled at Ricky and gave him a hug. “Crap, I’m going to miss you so much.”

“You’re going to bed this early?” Chloe asked, surprised. “I thought you’d go hard tonight.”

“Well, I am thirty, you know,” I teased, not wanting anyone to read my true emotions. “Old lady alert.”

“Oh my God.” Lola rose and opened her arms, her lips turned down in a pout. “What am I going to do without you? My favorite mirror.”

That made me laugh. I was no dead ringer for Lola but close enough for subterfuge. She had been good to me as a boss and I would miss her enthusiasm and endless energy. “You’ve been awesome,” I told her. “And the next time you roll through Miami I will have my culinary degree and I’ll be fat and happy. I’ll cook you an amazing dinner.”

“Send me cookies. You know how I feel about baked goods.”

It was her weakness, just like mine. “You got it.”

Alejandro grabbed his shirt off the table and started to pull it on. “I’ll walk you back to your room.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine.” Now why in the hell did I say that? Was I an idiot? Apparently. Because under no circumstances did I actually want him to say okay and stay behind and party.

“Don’t be stubborn,” he said. “I’m your bodyguard. Let me guard your body.”

“Girl, if you say no, I’m going to put on a gold jumpsuit and pretend I’m you,” Ricky said.

That would be interesting to see Ricky attempt to pull that off, but not tonight. Alejandro was standing with his shirt open and his ab muscles descended in a V into the waist of his dress pants. I didn’t mean to but I glanced and saw precisely what Chloe had been talking about. Huge, indeed. I swallowed hard. “Fine, you can walk me to my room. Good night, everyone, love you all.”

“Glad you’re in good hands,” Chloe called out gleefully.

“I like to think very capable hands,” Alejandro said with a smile that must have caused many pairs of panties to drop over the years.

Damn good thing I was in a jumpsuit or I feared I might find my own panties on the floor. I fanned myself. Something I hadn’t missed about being home in Miami? The damn heat. And I was not talking about the NBA team.

Wishing I had grabbed another glass of champagne, I started back to my hotel room.

three

I wasn’t sure what would be better—Miranda in the jumpsuit or out of it. There was something so ridiculously hot about her walking around in a fucking skintight leotard with her cleavage busting out the top and her thighs deliciously naked. There was a peek of ass cheek hanging out as well and all I could think was that I wanted a lap dance. She knew how to move. I wanted all that attention turned on me.

She was carrying a bag that she dug into and removed a key, never glancing back at me. I had no clue what was going on in her head. Hell, I had no idea what was going on in mine. I just knew that my already complicated feelings for Miranda had gotten more so. I was intrigued by the idea of giving her what she wanted, a baby. Our baby. But at the same time I wasn’t sure my DNA was the best bet, what with a brother who was a sociopath. I also didn’t want to go jerk off in a medical office and have them shoot my sperm into Miranda with the turkey baster. There was nothing intimate about that.

Props to science for making it work for couples struggling with fertility, but that was not what I wanted with Miranda.

She dropped her key and bent over to retrieve it before I realized what was happening. Those long, trim legs. That tight, pert ass. That sexy blond hair that made me want to wrap it around my fingers and tug.

The bag swung forward and fell off of her shoulder from gravity as she bent over. The momentum slammed her purse into the door. “Shit,” she said.

The items inside spilled on the floor and I squatted down to help her retrieve them. A lipstick, aspirin, her wallet. The usual. Her phone had fallen face down but when I picked it up it was lit, probably falling on its side and turning the screen on. Her screen showed a familiar face. I only saw it for a flash before it went dark again and I fought the urge to hit the button, to see that grinning bastard behind her passcode request.

Why the fuck did she still have a picture of Max on her phone screen? Where she had to glance at it a hundred times a day. That was not cool. Not cool at all. Nor was it healthy. Five years. What had he done to deserve her devotion for five fucking years? Nothing.

She snatched her phone from my hand. She was looking everywhere but at me.

---