Page 43 of Trust My Bodyguard

“Didn’t you take them skiing the other day?”

I frown at Nancy. “Wait, how did you know that?”

“Oh, he did,” Iris says. “It was loads of fun.”

“That’s what guests do if I’m not mistaken.” Nancy eyes me. “I forgive you anyway. I’m too soft-hearted not to.”

I scoff.

She eyeballs me. “Have something to say?”

“No, ma’am,” I respond and stand straighter.

Humor dances in Ivy’s gaze. “I really should stop by the diner sometime. I need some of what you’ve got that keeps him in line.”

I growl at Ivy and she giggles. Giggles. Fuck me.

“Don’t tell her,” Iris says to Nancy. “It’d only give those two more to fight about. You should’ve seen them this morning.”

“We don’t fight.” Ivy meets my eyes and quirks her lip. A look that’s just for me. Like we share a secret no one else knows. “We just have friendly squabbles.”

I doubt anybody else would call what happened earlier a friendly squabble but it fits. My anger toward Ivy never sits deep or lingers. She has the power to turn me off and on as she likes.

Just that look from her, and this morning’s screaming match fades to nothing.

I tear my eyes away from hers with much difficulty. “Nick said he left his keys with you.”

“They’re on the hanger behind the counter.” Nancy thumbs in the general direction behind her.

I retrieve the keys and return. “The first person to the car is riding shotgun.”

Iris is the first to arrive but she slips in the back.

“Why? You could sit next to me.”

The door opens and Ivy plops into the front seat. “You didn’t count on Iris loving the backseat, did you?”

I scoff and focus on driving out of the resort’s grounds. We cover the terrain slowly, allowing my attention to be divided between the road and the woman beside me.

I like her there. We’re both quiet and meditative. Without Iris in full view, I can pretend that it’s just us and we didn’t blow up on each other thirty minutes ago.

“I could’ve sworn it took us a longer time to arrive at the resort when we first came,” Ivy says as the first few houses in Pine Peaks appear.

“Your first time. Makes sense that you wouldn’t have your bearings.”

“What was your first time like?” Her eyes are on me. Not vexed or suspicious. Just observing.

“First time what?”

“Coming into Pine Peaks?”

“I don’t remember. I was probably crying all the way.”

Her brows furrow.

“I was born here,” I explain.

“You were?” She still looks at me like I’m making things up.

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