Page 130 of The Bodyguard Situation

“You should text Lexi. I bet she’d happily give you some of Easton’s clothes. See if he notices when you show up in one of his tailored suits.”

He nods, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Good idea.”

Brody, Weston, and Easton are basically the same size. However, Brody is more muscular.

His phone vibrates, and he shows me the text.

Lexi

Only if you take a picture of his face when you walk in.

He types back to her.

Brody

Deal.

Brody chugs the rest of his coffee, leaving a warm kiss on my lips as he heads toward the door. “I’ll be back very soon. An hour, tops. Love you.”

I grin. “Love you.”

I watch him walk away, and this time, it doesn’t come with the fear that he won’t return. It comes with the steady truth that he always will.

I’m mid-sip when a knock rings on my door. I move to the door, half expecting to see Brody, wondering if he forgot something. I look in the peephole and see Billie.

I pull it open and smile. “Good morning.”

“Morning!”

She steps inside, holding a small white box in both hands, her oversize sunglasses pushed to the top of her head, jet-black hair perfectly disheveled in that effortless bob only she can manage. Her expression is casual, but there’s a buzz to her—something under the surface, like she’s carrying more than what fits inside the box.

“I brought you something,” she says by way of greeting. Which, to be fair, she’s done many times before.

I arch a brow and close the door behind her. “No Asher in tow?”

“Nah. I just saw Brody in the elevator, and he told me you’d taken the morning off since you had been kidnapped,” she says with a wink.

“Okay, I wasn’t technically kidnapped,” I say. “Actually, when we tell the story to our kids, let’s keep that one. Going with that psycho of my own free will isn’t as exciting.”

She cracks a smile and hands me the box. I open it to find a silk sleep mask, embroidered in metallic gold thread that saysNap Queen.

I snort, laughter bubbling up before I can stop it. “Okay, this is on-brand.”

“Right?” She smirks, sinking onto the edge of my sofa. “Saw it in a boutique window and immediately thought,That’s Harp.”

I set the box on the counter and lean against it, studying her. She’s trying too hard to look casual, like she didn’t come here with an agenda. There’s a softness in her shoulders that makes me pause.

“What’s going on?” I ask, reading her easily.

She knows me better than I know myself at times, and the feeling is mutual.

She exhales through her nose. “Nothing. I mean, it’s something, but not dramatic.”

“Everything okay?” I wait impatiently.

“Yes.” Finally, she looks up at me, eyes wide and a little too shiny. “Asher and I are engaged.”

For a second, the words don’t register. They hover in the air between us, and I blink at her like I misheard.

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