Page 18 of Protector

“Yes. It’s part of the job. We’ll make it work, but you’re going to have to pick most of it out. Other than wearing a plain black tux for events, I’m not really a fashionista.”

“No problem.”

When she’s quiet, I glance over and find her biting the end of her nail. “One more thing…”

“What now?”

“Can Cal go?”

I huff but quickly tamp down my irritation. This isn’t about me, and I need to do whatever it takes to blend in. “I guess, but why can’t you just do it?”

“Honestly, I’m not much of a shopper. I just don’t like it. So it’s more fun when Cal goes and helps me pick stuff out.”

“A model who doesn’t like to shop.”Great. More contradictions.

“Sometimes I take what I have and alter it in some way, or I’ll buy something vintage and make it into something new.”

“Okay, that’s pretty cool.”

“But I don’t think either of us wants that for you, so Cal can help.”

“Fine. Whatever.” And in this moment, I feel exactly like an Uncle Todd.

We pull up to Cal’s place, and he emerges after Shay texts him. He’s definitely not what I expected and almost has a James Bond air about him. Perfectly styled hair, a long-sleeve black dress shirt with a gold design on his left chest and down the left arm, resembling a sleeve tattoo. It’s actually pretty cool. Tight black pants and pointy black shoes finish the outfit. Shay was right, I do look like the mechanic compared to him.

“Sup, Uncle Todd,” Cal says, climbing into the back seat with a smirk.

I glare at Shay, and she shrugs. “Callahan is my best friend. We have no secrets.”

“That’s right, girl,” Cal says, then pats me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. Any man who’ll jump in front of a bullet for my Shaylene is all right in my book.”

“I’m glad to have your approval,” I say sarcastically, and Shay taps me on the thigh. I knit my brows at her, a subtle reminder that she needs to tone down the touching.

Instead of taking offense, she grins, looking completely relaxed—almost happy. Figuring out her personality is going to be one of the challenges of this assignment. Which is why tomorrow we’re going to sit down and talk about some ground rules.

We pull up to the valet and then, of course, go right to the front of the long line of people waiting to get into the place.

Just before we reach the front, an arm shoots from the crowd, a hand grasping Shay’s wrist.

“Shay!”

Reflexively, I shift to that side of her, about to pounce on the guy. Though my quick evaluation tells me he’s a harmless frat guy, no one can be ruled out at this point.

I lock my hand on his bicep and squeeze. “Hands off.” I say it loud enough only he can hear, my face close enough he can see the glare in my gaze.

“Whoa, dude, I just wanted a selfie with Shay.” He yanks his arm out and holds his hands up by his shoulders defensively.

Shay steps in front of me, facing the guy and his two friends who have now flanked him. “Sorry, guys, my uncle is a little overprotective. I’d be happy to take a picture with you.”

Grabby Hands lifts his brows as his eyes flit from her to me and back to her. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” she says as he hands over his phone. “In fact, Uncle Todd will take it for us.” She throws me a grin that looks satisfied and eyes that say I’d better comply. By now, Cal has turned and realized we aren’t behind him. He waits impatiently, so I grab the camera and step back, an awkwardness I’m not used to filling my insides.

Shay wraps an arm around each of the guys, and they all squeeze in and smile.

I let out a sigh as I snap the pic, feeling like a disgruntled father, ready to unleash my ire at these guys who are practically salivating over Shay in that dress.

“Thanks, Shay. Maybe we’ll see you in there,” one of them says as I shove the phone at Grabby Hands.

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