Page 4 of The Billionaire Bodyguard Next Door

Sitting here, string lights casting a glow across his face and the darkness of night surrounding us, I felt I knew this man. Somehow, the stars aligned and sent him straight to me. Some cosmic forces at work.

I wondered if he could feel it too, as his hand covered mine, holding it right around his upper arm.

He stared deeply into my eyes. “It doesn't hurt anymore.”

I peered at him from beneath my lashes. “Are you sure?”

His Adam's apple bobbed. “Positive.”

Before I could second guess myself, I bent forward and kissed the scar, a million follow-up questions sitting on the tip of my tongue.

Beck growled in response, immediately threading a hand through my hair, drawing my mouth to his.

One thing was certain: this outfit wasn't going to waste, and my dry spell would finally come to a satisfying end.

CHAPTER1

Luna

“What do you mean,it's going to take six more months? You said three months, and that was two months ago. The math isn't mathing.”

I adjusted my hard hat. They were required on all job sites, although it really ruined my look. My red bob would be a frizzy mess by the time I was done here, but I'd gladly sacrifice my usual put-together look to ensure this latest venture was a success.

Unfortunately, the second I set my stiletto-clad foot out of my car, I knew it was bad news. My contractor hadn't told me the whole truth, and I'd gone too long between site visits. I should've been personally checking in on the progress every other day to keep them on their toes.

Jordan Weber, my lead contractor on the project, proceeded to spin some bullshit web of confusing, circular arguments without ever really explaining explicitly why my project was months behind. I should be walking around a building with some completed walls and a semblance of the casino it would become. As it stood now, the space was basically a blank slate. There were slabs of concrete and not much else…

A sharp pain jabbed behind my eyes. “Dammit.”

I knew this feeling all too well. My migraines had been getting worse lately. The late nights at the club combined with early mornings checking on my new project were running me ragged.

Pivot, Marks. Make a new plan.

“I want to see all your emails on this project within two hours. I'm going to make some calls.”

I turned on my heel and went back to my black sedan. Luckily, my driver, Darnell, hadn't left. He knew the drill and would stick around until I gave him a solid ETA on when I'd need him to return.

As I opened the car door, I turned over my shoulder. “Get me those emails, Jordan. I'll be back tomorrow to talk to you and the crew.”

Then I slid into the car and shut the door, wincing at the loud noise.

Fuuuuuck.

I searched my purse to find my medication. If I took it early enough, I could avoid the worst of it.

My hand slid over the familiar cylindrical container. “Gotcha.”

I popped the lid and threw back the little white pill, unscrewing the top of my water bottle and sipping some water to help the pill reach its destination.

My sunglasses provided some protection against the glaring summer sun. The tinted windows added another layer.

Still, it wasn’t enough.

I groaned, pinching my eyes closed and tipping my head against the leather headrest.

“I'll turn the music off, ma'am,” said Darnell.

“Thanks, D.”

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