Page 77 of The Bodyguard

Finally, he carefully withdrew and rolled onto his side. Sawyer removed their protection and then gathered her to his side, big spoon once again.

“Definitely very fun,” he whispered just before kissing the back of her head.

“Very,” she agreed. Now wasn’t the time to explain how trivial the word “fun” was. She’d never known this level of satisfaction existed. Now was too precious a moment to contaminate with revelations. But she did want him to know how special he made her feel. Angela turned in his arms.

Sawyer brushed her hair off her face. “What?”

She couldn’t find the words to do justice to the glittery happiness that had grown in her heart. “Thanks.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “For what?”

“Being you.” She shrugged. That was a far cry from what she wanted to convey. “For letting me be me.”

His lips quirked upward, and he snuggled her close as if he understood that the right words were impossible to find. She could have fallen asleep to the rhythmic beat of his heart, but her body had other plans.

“Are you hungry?” he asked of her growling stomach.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to move.”

Laughter rumbled through his chest. “I was just thinking the same thing. But…” He propped himself onto his side. “I bought steaks for the grill.”

Her mouth watered. “Yum.”

“Do you want to stay here while I get the charcoal fired up?”

The mundanity of making dinner plans struck her as strange. Did other people live lives filled with mind-blowing sex and then go about their regular business? If she’d thought about it before, it would have sounded like the stuff of fairy tales for adults. “What did you get to go with the meat?”

“Corn on the cob and potatoes for the grill and salad stuff in a bag.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Relax.” He rolled out of bed. “Got a book or something?”

“Am I living in some kind of dream world?”

Laughing, he walked out of her bedroom. “Maybe you need to readjust your expectations of the real world, sweetheart.”

He was joking, but the sentiment hit home. He didn’t think their day was out of the ordinary. It was almost sad how much of life she didn’t realize she’d missed.

Sawyer returned, wearing shorts. “What’s that look?”

Angela scooted against the headboard with the covers tucked to her chest. “You’re lucky, ya know. Having known fun like this was possible.”

Again, he cocked his head. “What are you talking about?” But he seemed to recalibrate his thoughts and strode to the end of the bed. Sawyer grasped her ankles and pulled her until she was on her back again. Then he crawled over her. “I have never had this much fun in my life.” He studied her as if trying to read her mind. “Do you hear me loud and clear, Angela?”

Her heart, doing jumping jacks and making jazz hands, certainly did. Her mind wasn’t so sure. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. Because what I said about relaxing with a book? You deserve that. You deserve everything.” After taking a deep breath, he gently kissed her lips until she melted into the mattress.

She wasn’t sure how long she had remained in bed after he left. He’d never had this much fun? Neither had she. She’d been hesitant to explain that. Sawyer hadn’t. Nothing fazed him. His mental strength was just as durable as his physical power. Angela had always known he was a rock-solid force of nature. Now she had the bonus of knowing how much he could care. She could fall in love if she weren’t careful to mind the parameters of their situationship. Love would be incredible and then devastating and leave a friendship in ruins—or, they could explore what a situationship might look like as a relationship. Except he had always been upfront with her, even before she’dfloated the crazy idea of a physical fling. Sawyer didn’t do long-term relationships. At all. For whatever reason, he’d never wanted to share. But it had been an immovably firm boundary.

Of all the respect he’d given her, she would give him that one thing he’d made clear. Maybe that dulled her sparkle, but it was still much brighter than it had been at the start of the day. That was okay. They—and all their fun—were okay.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Mylene waited in the kitchen for the men to leave her house. Today was different. Nothing different had happened since Pham was arrested more than a year ago. But this time, the men who delivered groceries and task lists remained in her living room.

Unless Pham had ordered Mylene to be taken somewhere as a punishment, her schedule followed a strict routine. Mondays and Wednesdays brought food and her weekly objectives. The Friday deliveries included newspapers and magazines for her to study over the weekend. She could see where her work had penetrated the public’s perception of an event or purpose. Alternative facts threaded into flame-throwing discussions. She could see how her work ripped families apart, tearing at the basic fabric of communities and trust. But she couldn’t stop.

---