Page 45 of Trust My Bodyguard

“What’s that?” Ivy points to a squat store.

“A pawn shop. Only the better of the two this town has.” I head toward it. “Come on.”

The bell above the door jingles as I walk through with the ladies following behind me.

The man behind the counter starts to shake his head. “No. Not a chance, Hawke. I’m not buying anything you’re selling.”

“Not today, Milton.” I give him my hand and he shakes it reluctantly. “I’m just showing my friends around town.”

The sisters wave from where they’re viewing the shelves.

Milton eyes me. “You sure?”

“What’s the problem?” Ivy, of course, is more interested in this conversation than the millions of knickknacks Milton has for sale.

“This boy was a menace.” Milton slaps a hand on my back. “He and his friends gave me a real tough time. You see the store over there?” He points out the window at the other pawn shop across the street. “They’d buy from Jenkins and then sell to me, and then buy from me and sell to Jenkins. Making a pretty penny off of us.”

“It was just business.” I shrug.

“Business I don’t want to be involved in again.”

“If only you settled your feud with him you wouldn’t have to worry about people cross-selling because you would have your inventory synced.”

“You and your friends cross-selling.” He gives me a look. “Haven’t had that problem since you boys left for the military.”

“Oh. I guess we were the menace.”

“You were,” he says. “Don’t think of starting anything now.”

I chuckle. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Better not,” he grumbles.

I turn to the ladies. “Let’s move on, shall we?” As I lead them out of the store, I wave goodbye to Milton. He looks at me with a heavy dose of skepticism. It would take a while for the old man to trust me again.

“What’s that?” Iris points at a little bakery.

“Come on.” I head toward it. “You’ll see.”

I haven’t explored the town since I moved back. Things have changed but in that slow way where they look the same but with little new quirks. It’s refreshing to see the places I wandered around in as a child.

I hold the door open and the ladies walk through. The sweet—nearly sickly—aroma of many confectioneries fills the air. I feel like gagging, but Iris grins and drags Ivy with her, pointing at the treats. I stand behind, watching as they peruse the offerings. We could get some and even take a table if it keeps them happy.

“Brody.”

“Mom?” I spin around to find my mother standing at the door’s threshold. “Mom.” My legs eat up the space between us and draw her into my arms.

“What are you doing here?” she says after I let her go.

“I brought...” I point behind me, drawing her into the bakery. “My clients to do some sightseeing.”

“Oh, clients,” she whispers back and zips her fingers across her lips. “Can I meet them?”

“Sure. Come on.” I bring her close to where they are looking at the displays. “Ivy. Iris.”

They turn around.

“Meet my mom, Caroline. Mom, this is Ivy and Iris.”

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