Page 68 of Not the Bodyguard's Widow
“That doesn’t mean we won’t have any going back.”
Alex thought for a moment, unsure how Kimberly would receive his next idea. “If you lie under the covers next to the wall and I lie on top of them, you should be secure.”
Kimberly opened her eyes and turned her head to stare up at him, studying him for several long moments. Alex wondered if she could see more than his need to protect her. Could she see his need to hold her, or did he hide it well? Slowly, she nodded and pushed the button to bring her chair upright. Alex did the same.
By silent agreement, they left the sliding door to the bedroom open. Kimberly slipped off her shoes and put them in the drawer under the bed, as did Alex. He held up the blanket for Kimberly to climb under, then tucked her in before lying on the other side.
“What if you fall out?”
Alex settled his arm around her. “I guess I better hold on.”
Kimberly snuggled into his embrace. “Good night, Alex.”
“Good night, Kimberly.”
Alex waited until Kimberly’s breathing became even and deep, then he kissed the crown of her head and said the words he’d wanted to say all day. “I love you.”
25
It hadn’t beenthis hard to wait for a birthday since she was six. Not even the Independence Day celebrations had lessened the anticipation. Alex took several day trips to see his new nephews. Kimberly accompanied him twice, both times staying the night at his parents’ as the six hours of travel was becoming more and more uncomfortable each week. At least it was a valid excuse to keep him at arm’s length when she wanted to be held in his arms.
Elle’s constant presence helped remind Kimberly that Alex was doing a job. Kimberly guessed Alex had had a conversation with Elle similar to the one she and Elle had the morning after they’d returned from California. The awkward conversation had boiled down to “Please protect Alex from me. Help me remember this marriage is fake. I don’t want to ruin his life.”
As the days fell into a routine, Kimberly spent a portion of each day in the studio. Alex worked remotely from his computer. And Elle read a lot. Kimberly caught only glimpses of the other two bodyguards as they stayed outside even when Alex went to Chicago. In the evenings, the three of them watched movies or television, Kimberly from the recliner, where she couldn’t fall asleep on Alex’s shoulder.
The only good news had been the FBI allowing her to have her June royalty check. Which she wouldn’t see until the end of July, but it meant she could spend some of her stash without counting every penny, though the single check wouldn’t go far toward paying Candace back or whatever the insurance-fraud fine would be.
Finally, her birthday arrived. To distract herself, Kimberly sketched different animals, trying to decide which one fit Mrs. Capps the best. So far, nurse owl was winning. What she wanted was to use the red cardinal who kept landing in the tree across the yard as a character, but it just didn’t fit. Alex had removed the moratorium for keeping the blinds in the studio closed during the day and allowed her to walk around the fenced yard.
The doorbell rang, and her pen slipped, leaving a line across the owl’s wing.
Kimberly checked the video feed on her phone, hoping this would be the delivery they were waiting for. It was the corner florist, the same one Jeremy had used when they were engaged. She waited for Elle to answer the door and accept the flowers before joining Alex and Elle in the kitchen.
The flowers themselves were unexceptional—in fact, they were rather patriotic. Mostly red, white, and blue—one of the hazards of a July birthday.
Alex handed Kimberly the card; the message was typed as if the flowers had been ordered over the phone or the internet.
Kimberly,
Happy birthday. I’m sorry to miss it this year. Sending a gift the day I normally get your present.
Love, Jeremy
PS. The key is for box 1932, in the town where I first told you I loved you.
She handed the note to Alex. “What key?”
Elle pulled a ribbon stamped “Key to my heart... Key to my... ” from the arrangement. “This one?”
Alex took the key. “It looks like a standard PO box key. The question is where and when?”
“The thirty-first. Jeremy got my birth date mixed up when we first met. Every year he’d give me some little thing on my birthday, then, on the thirty-first, make a big production of the gift, claiming he forgot.”
“I know that is personal, but where?” asked Elle.
“Shipshewana. He’d flown out to visit for the weekend, so I took him up to the Menno-Hoff museum. Afterward, we were walking around, and there was a farmers’ market. Most of the vendors were Amish. Jeremy was joking around and threatened to kiss me in front of them to see how many blushed, but I told him to stop, so he started yelling he loved me. I think I was the most embarrassed person there.”
“Not something you would easily forget.” Alex handed Kimberly the key.
