Page 124 of The Bodyguard

Thelma’s tiny body and oversized head followed Angela around as soon as Boss Man pointed the pup in her direction. And that was how Angela ended up with a wrinkle-faced bulldog puppy in her lap as she rode southwest from Titan’s headquarters and into hilly rural Virginia.

Thelma squirmed as Sawyer pulled off an old state road onto a gravel driveway. Rocks kicked into the truck’s wheel wells. “When’s the last time you were at home?”

“The holidays. My mom does a whole thing for December.”

“What is she like?”

“Tough as hell. Funny. Tenacious to boot. But incredibly sweet.”

Angela liked how he described his mother—and based on the description, she would like her too. “So she should work for Titan?”

“No, she has a much harder gig. Librarian in an underfunded rural county.” He slowed in front of a modest split-level home with flower boxes at the windows and an oversized covered front porch. “That woman would wrestle a bear for funding if it helped stock her shelves with books and board games.”

Angela’s nerves raced. “What about your dad?”

“Great guy. Coached my football team from peewees through high school. Loves his life. Loves his wife.” He shifted the truck into park and scanned the small front yard that backed into the woods in the distance.

“Wow, Sawyer.” She gazed at their little piece of heaven. “Why would you ever leave this?”

“Seemed like the thing that needed to be done.” Absentmindedly, he drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel. “I come home from time to time.”

As she watched his face soften, though, Angela could almost hear a wistfulbut not nearly enough.

Thelma yipped.

He reached over and gave the pup’s head a good scratch. “We’ll stay out of your hair and let you decompress.”

Angela bit her lip. For all her tears and dramatic demands to sit inside a normal, happy home, she didn’t want to be far from Sawyer and didn’t know what his parents would make of her.

The front door opened. His mom and dad walked out and waited.

“They look nice,” Angela said.

He glanced toward the house. “About as nice and normal as you can possibly want.” He gave her a reassuring nod. “Come on.”

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She exited the truck, set Thelma on the ground, and walked with Sawyer up to his front porch.

He wrapped his mom in a bear hug as his dad slapped his back hello. It was quite possibly the most wholesome, most genuine family interaction she’d seen in her life. Emotion caught in her throat.

A moment later, Sawyer pulled her into the conversation. “This is Angela Sorenson.” The puppy yipped for attention. “And my boss’s dog, Thelma. And”—he gestured to his parents—“these good people are Susan and Sam.”

Sawyer’s mother wrapped Angela in a hug almost as fierce as the one she’d given her son. His dad gave Angela a hearty pat on the back at the same time. “Welcome.”

And Angela was done. She’d fallen in love with his family.

Sawyer brought their bags in from the truck and dropped them in the living room. The heavenly smell of a homecooked meal filled the familiar space. He couldn’t help but relax when he was under this roof.

His mom met him by the window overlooking the backyard, where Angela had sat on a lawn chair. She was watching Thelma chase moths, grasshoppers, and whatever could hold the puppy’s attention.

“She seems sweet.”

He nodded, wondering how much his mom would instinctively know or question.

“You want to tell me about this?” She lifted the sleeve of his T-shirt. “I thought I saw a bandage—and I was correct.”

He pulled it up so she could see it wasn’t bad. “Nothing but a little flesh wound.”

“You were shot?”

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