Page 6 of Bodied

The new assignment caught Wesley off guard, and he couldn’t help reacting to it. He hoped he’d managed to stamp his reaction out fast enough that it hadn’t been noticed. But being forced into personally guarding the senator’s daughter was not what he’d signed up for. How was he supposed to advance or prove himself when he was given such a useless position? Who in their right mind would go after a politician’s kid? Did Anne Bartlett not trust him to do his job well? Was this just busywork?

He gritted his teeth and accepted the assignment as the necessary evil it probably was.

“Let’s get out of here,” Lauren said when they’d finally gotten back to the ballroom. She wore her perfect smile all the way to the car, but he could feel her seething underneath it all. Her mask was slipping, so it was no wonder she wanted to leave early.

They drove back to her apartment in relative silence. Lauren slouched in her seat with her arms crossed over her chest, pouting like a child. Wesley instinctively wanted to both scold and comfort her, but he wasn’t sure how, nor was he sure it was his place. Regardless, the longer they drove, the more awkward the silence got until Wesley couldn’t help himself anymore. “Do you want to get more doughnuts? Will that make the torture that is my presence more bearable to you?”

She turned and narrowed her eyes at him. “You know what? Now you owe me food. Screw doughnuts, though. We’re getting burgers.”

“We?”

“We’re stuck together, aren’t we? I’m not going to let you starve. How would a starving bodyguard be any good at his job?”

Wesley smirked at her. “Thanks for caring, princess, but if you don’t want fast food I can swing something a little more classy. I’m not that broke.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “I don’t want fast food for your sake. I’m not that sweet, you know.”

“Oh, I’d never make the mistake of assuming you were sweet.”

She glared hard and flipped him off as soon as he glanced back her way. “Jerk.”

“What?” He shrugged. “You’re like two different people. I’m assuming this non-sweet version is the more authentic one, right? So… I mean, I like the spicy version of you better, if it helps.”

“It doesn’t.” She went back to pouting, but a quick little smile on her face told him she wasn’t being entirely honest.

They ordered food at a drive-through and pulled up to the window to pay. But before Wesley could even get his wallet out, Lauren leaned across the driver’s seat and thrust a credit card at the cashier. Wesley grunted his protest. “What are you doing?”

“Paying for the food I made you get,” she said, slipping back into her seat. Wesley tried not to notice how good her body felt sliding across his, but he wound up involuntarily clearing his throat regardless. She smirked back at him from her seat while they waited for their food. “I’m just not convinced you’re ‘not that broke’ is all.”

“Oh, youwouldtry to get a rise out of me, wouldn’t you?” He pulled out of the drive-through after collecting their food and handing it over to her. “But it won’t work, princess.”

The interaction felt almost friendly, which eased Wesley’s tension a little. At the very least, when Lauren was her authentic self, she didn’t take herself too seriously. She seemed to take his teasing in stride, which was unexpected for sure.

He began to think more optimistically about their upcoming days together. If she could surprise him this one time, maybe she’d do it again, and he suddenly wanted to see how.

* * *

Once they were outside her apartment, Lauren grabbed her bag of food and left the car without looking back. Wesley followed. Halfway to the entrance to her building, she turned back and gave him a confused look. “You’re not spending the night here, are you? I mean, that’s not a question. You’re not spending the night inside my apartment. I don’t care what my mother said.”

“I’m not spending the night,” he assured her. “But I do need to sweep your apartment before I leave.”

She heaved a huge sigh and spun on her heel, heading straight back to his car.

“What?” he said, still following her. “It’s just one sweep.”

“You forgot your food.” She got to the car and waited for him to unlock it. “It’s going to get cold, so you’re eating it here.”

“That’s highly unusual,” Wesley said, but he unlocked the doors anyway.

“This whole situation is highly unusual. We’ll have to make up the rules as we go along. Anyway, I made you buy some trash food — I’m not going to make you eat it cold, too.” She snatched his food from the back seat and started back toward the main entrance of her building. Wesley followed in a shocked daze. She was surprising him, not behaving as much like the spoiled little princess he expected her to be.

They passed the doorman and the concierge, who didn’t even look up, much to Wesley’s disappointment. He was hoping to be recognized so that next time he had to come and fetch Lauren, he wouldn’t have the same problem getting access to her apartment. The ride in the elevator was unnaturally quiet. Wesley had no idea what to say to her.Thank youseemed wrong considering she was forcing all this kindness onto him. Insulting seemed equally wrong, considering she was being more thoughtful than most of his clients ever were.

While she set their food at a breakfast bar that separated her kitchen from her living room, Wesley went around checking the rest of her apartment. He looked in all the closets, behind the doors, and even under her bed. He never expected to find anyone there because, again, who would go after a senator’s daughter? It just seemed so unlikely.

He returned to the living room to find Lauren had taken his food out of the packaging and put it on a plate for him. “Don’t worry, I washed my hands and everything,” she said when she saw how he looked at her.

He didn’t bother to correct her assumption about the meaning behind his look. It was her thoughtfulness that was shocking and confusing him. But sure, let her believe he was worried about sanitation. He tried to remind himself that she was Anne Bartlett’s daughter, rich, and spoiled. “Thanks, I guess,” he muttered and sat down to eat. Now that it was all laid out for him, what choice did he even have? Wesley was often cold, but notthatcold.

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