Page 10 of Single Mom's Bodyguards
So, I nod once. Keep it professional. “I’ll do my best to live up to that memory.”
I walk her through the building the back way, just like she requested. Chief’s already cleared the stairwell and propped the emergency exit with a coded wedge. Bailey pulls her sunglasses from her purse and slips them on like armor.
She walks like she’s on a runway. Chin up. Shoulders set. But I can tell. Her body’s wound tight, like her skin is waiting for impact.
“I’ll email you the contract within the hour,” I say as we reach the door. “Once we’re signed, we’ll be in place immediately.”
She nods, not looking at me.
“You’re not alone anymore, Bailey.”
That gets her. Her lips part like she might say something. But nothing comes.
Then she leans in, and her arms loop around my neck, and for a second, I’m seventeen again, holding her on a rooftop with nothing between us but shared breath and the glow of distant stars.
Then it’s gone.
“Thank you,” she whispers, and she walks out into the morning sun. One star shining on another.
I stand there longer than I should, watching the sidewalk like she might come back. She doesn’t. The second her car door clicks shut, I’m moving.
I loop back to my office, already issuing orders over comms. Surveillance. Recon. Legal. By the time I sit at my desk, my pulse is steady. My jaw’s locked. Every instinct I have is burning.
Wes sticks his head in. “You good?”
“Get me everything on David Oswalt. Quietly.”
He arches a brow. “Don’t insult me. You know I’m already on it.” He disappears again.
I lean back, staring up at the constellation painted on my wall. Orion. The hunter. The protector. The boy I used to be thought the stars could save us. But it’s not the stars that’ll do it now.
It’s me. I won’t lose what matters. Not again.
3
WESLEY
There’sa reason we swore a pact.
Three dumbasses on a rooftop, stolen beer in hand, lying on tar paper and sweat, staring up at a sky that barely had stars. Sean, Huck, me. Swore up and down we’d never go after her. Not even if she wanted us to.
We didn’t want to make her choose. We didn’t want to know which of us she would pick. The dream of her had to be enough. Now she’s back—and all I want is to break that goddamn pact.
Bailey Beausoleil. The one that got away before any of us ever had a real shot. The girl who once climbed the fire escape just to kiss the sky. The girl who kissedmeonce, on a dare, and laughed when I stood there stunned like I’d been electrocuted.
That smile…it’s still the same. But everything else? It’s different now.
She walks like she’s balancing a sword on her spine. Still beautiful—achingly so—but there’s steel where there used to be mischief. And when she talks about her ex, that piece of shitwho laid hands on her, there’s a controlled fire in her voice that makes me want to commit felonies in broad daylight.
I lean back in my chair, fingers steepled against my mouth, pretending to scroll through data I haven’t even loaded yet.
Sean’s already issuing orders. Huck’s already halfway through configuring the convoy plan. But I can’t stop thinking about her scent.
This is a bad idea. We shouldn’t take the job. There’s no objectivity in this. No distance. I saw it on Sean’s and Huck’s faces. Felt it in my chest.
She’s the one who got away, and now, she’s back.
There’s no way this doesn’t go sideways. I walk back to Sean’s office to say as much. Huck’s already there. Good. Two birds, one stone.
