Page 110 of If Our Hearts Collide

It is cooler here. But it’s also morning.

Despite going separate ways, that didn’t mean I was completely out of the loop on what has been going on in Chris’s life. I’ve seen his name tossed about in different social circles as being stellar at his freelance assignments.

“I hope your flight was smooth.”

Chris gives his trademark big-grinned smile. “Only because you opted for the best seat on the plane.”

I forget what I even assigned. Right after the self-defense lesson, I called up Chris and had him fly to Portland to meet with me face-to-face. I don’t even remember what I selected outside of first class.

“You still hate the exit row, right?”

“I do.”

“It’s probably because you had to jump out of too many planes.”

“No doubt. But you hooked me up with seat 1A, the greatest seat that ever existed on an aircraft.”

“Your spoiled ass has standards, am I right? You’re a bougie prick who probably ordered hot towels for a five-hour flight.”

“Accurate.”

We both laugh.

“Here’s all the documentation you wanted,” he says, handing me a stack of papers that can barely be contained inside a folder. “I didn’t alphabetize them and color code them. So forgive me. I can see you never stopped being a picky bastard.”

“I’m just trying to catch you in a lie.”

“You never stopped interrogating either.” Chris scratches his jawline, where his stubble is more than a five o’clock shadow. “Let’s just get to the point. Why did you summon me here all the way from Texas?”

“As you know, I’m employed by the Hoffmans.”

“Pretty sure there’s a billboard advertising this. So yes…”

“Joking aside, I have to reassign myself from the guard assignment that I was given of watching Graham and Nic’s youngest sister, Penny Hoffman.”

Chris’s eyes narrow. “That’s not like you.”

I shrug. “Part of being a good bodyguard is understanding the limitations and being able to identify if you are the wrong person for the job.”

“How complex is the job?”

It’s the hardest job I’ve ever taken on—hands down.

I look out into the empty field, where the sun is about to rise. It has been days since Penny and I spent time together. I miss her. Trying to respect her wishes, I’ve been watching from a distance—which is the most torturous part.

I stood on the sideline as she went shopping with her family—never intervening even when I knew her feet were hurting. I resisted helping her move into her new place, despite being available to get her settled in. I didn’t even bring her lunch that day when I knew she skipped a meal. I’m trying, yet every instinctive nerve in my body is screaming to protect her and to take care of her.

My urges want to do the very thing she is adamantly resisting…

I want to coddle her.

And now that I know there’s an attraction from her side, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to be close to her and not want to rip her clothes off and fuck her against the nearest flat surface I can find.

So now, I have no other choice but to step back and allow someone else to provide the same protective services—but with zero emotional attachment. I’ve gotten too close to the mark, and it didn’t take me much time to get there. That’s the effect Penny has on me.

I’ve confused her, and I’ll never forgive myself for causing her unneeded emotional pain.

“As long as you stay detached, you’ll be fine.”

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