Carol Ross - Keeping Her Close

Dipping his chin, he scrubbed a hand across one cheek before meeting her gaze again. “The feeling was mutual.”

“I can see that,” Harper said diplomatically. She inhaled deeply and slowly and then eased out the breath. Was she crazy to agree to this? Maybe. But there was something so solid and comforting about this guy, and, if she were being honest, she wanted him to be for real. Without a doubt, she needed some help. He was right that she could have easily let some unknown, potentially dangerous person into her house tonight. Much of the time she didn’t even bother with the security system anyway. When she did, she often wasn’t sure if she’d done everything properly. The notion was rather sobering and lent an extra dose of urgency to his employment. She realized her dad knew all of this and had probably been experiencing something similar when he offered Kyle the job.

“So…” she drawled. “How are we going to do this? Lecture and then lab? Or do you have like a personal security textbook, Stay Safe 101 ? Just to warn you, I’m awful at pop quizzes. After the first one, I will resent you for the entire semester and not perform to my highest capability.”

Kyle sat back in his seat, seeming to relax a bit as he pondered her tongue-in-cheek questions. And probably her. Had he been nervous that she wouldn’t agree to hire him? That thought was rather endearing. It made him seem both human and normal, and it gave her confidence in her decision.

But only briefly because his expression went stony again. Like granite. Hard, scary granite.

Leaning forward, he placed his forearms on his thighs and tented his fingers. “It’s all lab, Harper. One hundred percent hands-on. And we’re going to start by getting you in shape. Calisthenics for one hour every morning at 4:30 a.m., followed by a five-mile run on the beach.” Tipping his head, he added, “But not your typical run. Every other day, we’ll add an obstacle course to simulate tactical evasion. And three days a week, we’ll have what I like to call target practice.”

What. The. Whatty-what? Harper opened her mouth, shut it and finally managed to stutter, “Um, target what? I don’t know how to… I mean, I don’t—”

He straightened, interrupting her with a stop-sign hand. “Relax, it’s not what you think. You won’t be doing any shooting. I’ll be shooting at you with a paintball gun while you try to dodge it. The less paint on your person, the more lunch you earn. Positive reinforcement can be helpful in specific, isolated training situations.”

Harper knew she was gaping. Was he out of his mind? Had the word normal actually crossed her mind in conjunction with this lunatic? He was as messed up as Owen. More, possibly. She was still trying to decide how to proceed when his face broke into a wide smile, or at least she hoped it was a smile. The whole time he’d been here she’d yet to see it, so she couldn’t be sure. She kept still, waiting, in case she was misinterpreting the gesture. Maybe he was wincing or had something stuck in his teeth.

Finally, he said, “Harper, I’m joking. I do have some basic protocol that we’ll cover. Your dad wants you to become an expert with your security system. But otherwise, we’ll just plan on doing this situationally, taking it one day at a time. Does that work for you?”

Huh. She had not seen that coming. But she also liked it. A grin crept over her, and she laughed. He joined her, and Harper was momentarily mesmerized by the deep, rich sound. The smile that lingered transformed him. Harper met his gaze and warmth spread through her chest, making her head a little light, her thoughts a bit fuzzy. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed like this, felt so at ease.

That thought was sobering in itself, melting her laughter away. Because this situation was anything but easy; she officially had herself a bodyguard.

“ONE SOYSAGE, SPINACH and kale omelet.” Nora Frasier proudly set a plate in front of her only son. “Protein packed with two servings of veggies tucked inside.”

“Thanks, Mom. Sounds delicious,” Kyle lied as Nora turned and sailed back into the kitchen.

Soysage? Kyle mouthed the word to his seventeen-year-old quasi-nephew, Levi, who was sitting across the table from him in his sister Mia’s dining room. Kyle sniffed at his plate, and then whispered, “Does she think it will make it more palatable by having it sound more meat-like? Or that we’ll be so impressed by the clever play on words that we won’t be able to resist?”

Levi let out a snort of laughter, which he convincingly covered with a cough. Or maybe he was choking. Poor kid had already taken a bite of his omelet. Levi lifted his glass of orange juice and took a sip.

Adamantly refusing to put anyone out, Kyle had been crashing on the couch in Mia and Jay’s downstairs family room for the last few weeks since arriving in Pacific Cove. Last night, he’d left Harper’s with the plan for them to meet back at her place this morning. They’d agreed on 8:30 as his official start time. Kyle smiled to himself as he thought about the look on her face when he’d proposed his “fitness plan.” He hadn’t been able to resist teasing her; she was so obviously nervous about this whole security thing. That easy laugh of hers was contagious, even though he recognized her joking around as a defense mechanism. He’d have to be careful about keeping her on track, emphasizing the importance of their task.

Mia was a veterinarian and co-owned a clinic in Pacific Cove. Her husband, Jay, was a former Coast Guard flight mechanic who’d recently started his own construction business. Their home was a large four-bedroom bungalow overlooking the ocean, but it didn’t feel nearly as large as the actual square footage. Two of the bedrooms were filled with Jay’s teenaged siblings, Levi and Laney, who Jay had legal custody of.

Until recently, Nora had occupied the fourth bedroom, but now she lived in a plush apartment above the garage that Jay had recently added on. Nora’s old room was now Jay’s office, which doubled as a sometimes bedroom for Jay’s youngest two siblings, Dean and Delilah, who lived with their other sister, Josie, but visited often and liked to sleep over.

Two dogs and four cats rounded out the total of occupants. And Mia’s dog, George, was roughly the size of two people. Currently, the mastiff-bloodhound mix was camped out under the dining room table with his massive head resting on Kyle’s feet. George was the sweetest dog in the world with a bad habit of eating anything that would fit between his massive jaws. Which gave Kyle an idea.

Leaning backward, he glanced under the table. “Georgie,” he whispered.

“I already tried it,” Levi said, reading his intention. “George won’t eat it.”

“Really? Dang.” That did not bode well. Kyle had seen George eat chunks of rotten seaweed like they were gravy-covered biscuits. Kyle picked up his fork and used it to flip up the top layer of the omelet. Taking a peek inside, he whispered, “What are the grayish-brown bits?”

“Pepitas,” Levi answered.

At Kyle’s confused headshake, Levi explained, “That’d be a pumpkin seed to you and me.”

“In an omelet?” The eggs at least would be good, courtesy of Nora’s cage-free, organically fed laying hens.

“Nora thinks they go in everything. She even puts them in those cookie things she makes.” To Kyle’s way of thinking, the “cookie things” weren’t truly cookies because they didn’t contain sugar. Still, he’d decided he could handle the sugar-free life better than the meatless one.