Page 101 of South Beach Bodyguards

But then as Olivia talked, I forgot we were walking in tandem, our fingers intertwined. She was an easy conversationalist, moving from one topic to the next without missing a beat. She told me about her grandparents, about growing up an identical twin, about her love of the beach. She laughed easily, too, which surprised me. At Benito’s she had been scared and there had been no smiles or laughter.

The smile disappeared when a guy bumped into her. She looked at him and froze in fear.

“What’s the matter?” I was reaching for my gun.

Her shoulders relaxed. “Nothing. When I first looked at him I thought he was the guy who put me in that room. Which is stupid. He looks nothing like him.” Olivia’s cheeks turned red and she avoided my gaze.

Now I was glad I was holding her hand because I pulled her closer when she would have attempted to put a few feet between us. “I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.” That was the one thing I could absolutely offer her—protection.

“I want to be safe everywhere,” she said, sounding frustrated. “Alone, at school, in my apartment, at my sister’s. It makes me mad that I feel this way. I feel vulnerable and I hate it.”

That I definitely understood. “I get that. I hate that feeling, too. But it will ease up as you’re further away from what happened. I hate to say it, but maybe you shouldn’t go to your sister’s for a while.” Even though it was a perfect opportunity for me to see her, and the only reason I would take another assignment at his place, but I didn’t think it was a healthy environment for her. Not her scene, for one, but a bad reminder of what had gone down.

“You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not interested in seeing Ricardo any time soon. My sister and I can hang out somewhere else if she wants to spend time with me.”

Comforting someone wasn’t my strong suit. This was even harder. This was dealing with the aftermath where Olivia was angry and frustrated. I had never figured out how to deal with my own anger and frustration. There was no way I could help her. So I stayed silent. My hand felt enormous holding hers and she did pull away, which confused me. She’d taken my hand in the first place and now she no longer wanted to touch me?

But she smiled when we walked into the bar where she worked. Everyone, staff and customers, greeted her with smiles and waves and it was clear she was well-liked. The bartender in particular seemed curious to see her with a guy and he grilled me for a good five minutes. After we each had a beer and went to a table, Olivia wrinkled her nose.

“Sorry about that. Ben likes to father everyone in here.”

“It’s cool. It’s nice he’s looking out for you.” Ben was in his fifties, beefy, friendly but firm. He didn’t seem overly impressed with me, but I couldn’t blame him. I wouldn’t be overly impressed with me for Olivia, either, if I were him.

“No one ever seems to get that I don’t need to be taken care of. That’s Eva, not me.”

“I don’t think you need to be taken care of. I think you’re pretty bad ass.” I did. She was strong and smart and that was sexy as hell. I shifted my stool around so I could be closer to her. “You’re too far away. I need to touch you.”

My comment seemed to fluster her. “What? We’re in public. No touching.”

“I didn’t mean sex on the table.” I grinned at her. “But anyway, you are definitely bad ass.”

“You know what, you’re right? I am bad ass most of the time,” she declared. “Just not when it comes to drug dealers.”

“You held your own. You did what you had to do. That’s bad ass.”

I wasn’t actually trying to reference us having sex, but that’s what she must have thought because her cheeks went pink and she looked irritated. “So bad ass. I got naked and wore a bikini.”

This wasn’t going the way I had intended. At all. “What else were you supposed to do? Attack an armed bodyguard with your bare hands, wearing nothing but a robe? You stayed calm and did what you had to, and you should be proud of that.”

She pursed her lips. “I guess.”

“No guessing. That’s fact.” I squeezed her knee. “Don’t be a stubborn ass like me.”

That made her laugh. “You are kind of stubborn, aren’t you?”

“I come by it honestly. My mother is as stubborn as a mule. She reaped what she sowed.”

“You’re not really selling yourself here, Wester.” She gave me a smile.

The bar was dim, but not dark or gloomy. It was filled with rich wood tables and kitschy signs on the walls. It was a dive, nothing glamorous. She was right—I was more comfortable here than I would have been at a fancy restaurant. This was my world. Dark corners, eccentric people and shady intentions. I wouldn’t have expected her to look like she belonged here, but she did.

“You’ve already seen my best assets.” Talking about myself made me uncomfortable.

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, hot shot.”

That made me laugh.

“Tell me why you became a bodyguard.”

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