Page 31 of Shield and Savior

She frowns. “Yeah, the graphic designer said we might have a hard time getting it printed on T-shirts.”

ChapterSixteen

Izzy

I’m learning to accept the many different sides of me. Tonight, I’m the Mafia princess. Ready to do whatever Dad wants without question. Even if it means playing dress up in a gown Waverly left me.

Thanks to a teenage pregnancy, I missed out on all the typical rites of passage—no prom, no homecomings, no fancy graduation parties. Yoga pants, Crocs, and faded T-shirts are my mom uniform. I’ve embraced being a mom much easier than a Mafia princess—the uniform is way more comfortable.

Still I kinda get the appeal of being fancy. But the nicest outfit I own is a black dress I bust out for funerals. Definitely not the right vibe for a high-society wedding. Thankfully, Waverly has a closet full of dresses and gave me a loaner for the night. It hugs my curves with a soft squeeze, making me feel regal and sexy. There’s no way to resist it. I twirl, and it flows out like flower petals in the wind. This dress has an excellent twirl factor. I would rate it eight and a half out of ten. Very nice. The dress satisfies my inner princess.

The shoes are a different matter altogether. The black strappy heels are torture. They pinched my toes within fourteen seconds of putting them on. I’m counting every single second until I can kick them off, flex my feet, and get back into my Crocs.

Drew is playing Minecraft in the living room with Specs. At least our other bodyguard doesn’t mind being the babysitter for an evening. This is the first time I’m leaving my son alone since my ex became hellbent on ruining my life.

I shouldn’t leave him. But I have to.

I walk out of my bedroom and take a deep breath, waiting for their critique.

Drew glances back over his shoulder at me. “You look weird, Mom.” I’ll never get a positive response from my spawn. I frown, and he backtracks, “But in a good way.”

Specs turns around and gives me a low whistle. “You clean up nice.”

The last man in the room clears his throat.

I almost stop breathing. Lance stands there in a black suit, black tie, and perfectly pressed white shirt. He’s styled his hair off his head with more volume than he normally does. And he’s every one of my late-night fantasies come true.

Stop that!I am a responsible adult with a task to complete. I must ignore the flipping of my stomach and the heat scorching up and down my back.

Focus. Get through the wedding.

When it’s over, and I’m home, I’ll turn on some music to overcompensate for the sound of my vibrator, imagine Lance taking my thong off, and take care of this myself.

He’s my bodyguard, not my personal plaything. And I won’t risk him losing his job—or worse—because I can’t keep my hands to myself.

His smile is different today. It is not the one I’m used to seeing when he picks me up from work. Or the smile when Drew gets all his homework right.

Lance rubs his chin, and I can feel his gaze as he appraises my body. “You look amazing,” he says, glancing sharply over to Specs, who is fully focused on Drew. If Specs heard, he doesn’t react.

So no, all of this is completely fine, completely normal. Bodyguards who are in the friend zone often look at their clients like they want to eat them. Yep, totally normal.

“Um, we should get going.” I motion to the door. “Make good choices,” I say to Drew and kiss the top of his head.

Specs grumbles, “Follow your own advice,” before turning back to Minecraft.

“Be awake when we get back,” Lance says to Specs—the opposite advice to a typical dad’s ‘don’t stay up late’—as he holds the apartment door open and ushers me out.

When we walk through the lobby, he holds the door open for me again. I can’t tell if it’s a leftover skill from working with celebrities, or if it’s him being polite, but his fingers brush my back as he closes the door behind me.

I should ignore it. It was probably accidental contact. But there it is again as he holds the car door open, and I settle myself into the passenger seat.

The car has that “fresh” scent—nondescript but also distinct. It’s an SUV, but not one of the company ones. Maybe it’s his personal car. Weird.

The strangeness of the car, the dress, the whole night has me on edge. Being away from Drew at night amps up my mom guilt. I can’t tell if my nerves are because of Lance, leaving Drew, or over the concern that I’ll fuck this up and bring shame to my family. “I haven’t done this in such a long time.”

He smirks as he slides into the driver’s seat, using the momentum to give me a little nudge. “Going out with human beings or going to a wedding?”

“A little from column A, a little from column B.”

---