Page 13 of A Very Titan Christmas
Bryce skirted his gaze between her and Eloise and back. “Well, yeah. I was supposed to meet her here.”
Irritated, Rachel glared at Eloise. “What have you been thinking? Contacting Greg and now, Bryce?”
Trying to set her up was one thing, but contacting the ex who had broken her heart was an entirely different ball game. Almost two decades had slipped by since Bryce had broken up with her, but that teenage heartache had left Rachel inconsolable. Eloise had wiped Rachel’s tears for weeks.
Time had healed her feelings, and Rachel hadn’t thought of him in so long. But that didn’t mean Eloise could get away with a sneaky move like this one because she was suddenly in need of grandchildren.
Rachel squared her shoulders and tried to act like this entire debacle was a silly misunderstanding. “I don’t know what she said to you, but I don’t need a date.”
Confusion deepened on his face. His hazel eyes roamed over her, and his full lips rolled together like he struggled to understand what she’d said. “You don’t needa date?”
“No.” She squared her shoulders. “I mean, I’m flattered and all, but—”
“You think I’m here for a date?”
“I mean…” Heat ricocheted up to the tips of her ears. She pivoted to Eloise again. “Mom?”
“Don’t let me interrupt you. You’re on a roll.” Eloise buffed her red nails on her pants.
“I’m sorry,” she said for the hundredth time. “Why are you here again?”
“Titan Group,” he said flatly. “I work for a security company that—”
“Oh God.” Honestly, if she could have a single Christmas wish, it would be for St. Nick to abduct her to the North Pole, where she would live the rest of her life. “I, uh… That’s why you’re here. Oh.”
He nodded curtly. “Protective detail.”
Without meaning to, she eyed him again. Size? Check. Muscles? Check. Concealed carry tucked under his cocoa-stained shirt? Check. “I think I’m going to go die in a corner now. It was nice seeing you.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Well, Bryce’s avoid-Rachel-Porterplan had crashed and burned within two hours of his arrival. Besides keeping Mrs. Porter safe, his plan to steer clear of Rachel had been his only objective. And it should have been an easy one. He had quadruple-checked that the Porters did not have family joining them for the holidays. Not only had Rachel slammed into him, but she had also literally left her mark. His sticky shirt cooled on his stomach and thighs, and he needed to change.
Roman strode over. “Hey, did you check in with—What the hell happened to you?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s not nothing.”
Bryce pinched the bridge of his nose. Roman wasn’t wrong. He needed to change and didn’t want to see any of the Porters. Why the hell had he agreed to this job?
“Shit, there’s Eloise Porter,” Roman muttered under his breath.
“Yeah, I already talked to her. Everything is squared away.” Except for whatever Rachel had accused Mrs. Porter of. Bryce hadn’t pressed, and Mrs. Porter chatted on and on as if their odd conversation hadn’t happened. “I need to change.”
Roman eyed him again and laughed. “All right, butterfingers. You do that while I touch base with Mrs. Porter.” He scanned the room. “What is she like?”
Rachel jumped to the forefront of his brain instead of Eloise Porter. She had grown into herself. Wavy golden hair and abrilliant smile—not that she had offered it to him the same way she had her sharp, assessing gaze. She and Mrs. Porter still volleyed a conversation back and forth like they had years ago, but now that Rachel was an adult, the conversation probably would have been playful if she hadn’t been blushing and as caught off guard as he was. At least Bryce had known the possibility existed that his and Rachel’s paths would cross. And what was that whole thing about dating her?
“Earth to Bryce?” Roman said.
Mrs. Porter. That was what Roman was asking about. Bryce needed to focus. “Chatty. A little irreverent. Do you know anything about her daughter being on site?”
Roman frowned. “She’s not.”
Bryce snorted. Rachel Porter had taken off from the lobby like she couldn’t escape him fast enough. “She is. Trust me.”
“Then I guess the plan will need a rewrite.” Roman gestured with his thumb toward the central meeting space near the giant fireplace. “I’m going to find Mrs. Porter and meet back with you in twenty.”
