Page 42 of Broken Bodyguard
“Well, I did.”
“You’ll lose the job.”
“I might. But I’ll figure it out later. I don’t want you to worry about it though.” He leaned down, glancing at my parents before pressing a kiss to my lips. “I want to be here right now, so I’m here.”
I couldn’t argue with that. I worried he was missing out on a huge opportunity, but I couldn’t change his mind.
Once I got the green light to leave, we returned to my parents’ house. The house looked and felt strange after what happened in there with Jericho. My mother ushered me and Grace into the great room to relax, while she and my father and Troy worked on cleaning up the house. Based on how long I’d been knocked out, the doctor told me to take it easy—and that meant I’d get some time off of work. My head felt fuzzy, but I was otherwise fine. If a baseline level of distress and anxiety was considered fine.
But Troy made it melt away. Just one look at his handsome smile and his broad shoulders made everything better. He waited on me hand and foot, and even surprised Grace with a few rounds of Twisty Monkey to cheer her up. My baby girl was despondent and skittish after what had happened. It broke my heart to see her grappling with making sense of it all.
When dinner rolled around, my mom made a big deal about making sure Troy stayed to eat. I was certain, at this point, that he would have waited outside the front door like a puppy if he hadn’t been invited. But my parents were hardcore Troy fans after what happened this morning, so there was no chance in hell my mother wouldn’t insist on feeding this man forevermore.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” His rough baritone made my thighs clench, even when convalescing.
“Oh, you are too sweet. Just take this bread basket over for me.” My mom handed him a wire basket stuffed with warm rolls. He helped carry things from the kitchen to the dining room table—my mom loved the fact that a man offered to do anything in the kitchen, since even my own father tended to be gone when it came time to set the table. Once everything was set, my mom called out for me.
“Dinner’s ready! Oh, shoot—do you need help, honey?”
“I got it.” I slowly pushed myself to sitting in the recliner where I’d been lounging all evening. Troy was at my side in a flash.
“I’ve got you.” He offered his arm, which I took gratefully.
“You keep this up, my mom is liable to adopt you,” I warned him. “You saved my life. Helped her in the kitchen. Now you’re being my personal walker.”
“Whatever it takes to get on the Lamberts’ good side,” he said.
“Oh, you’re on their good side. Trust me. If they had to kick one of us out from dinner, I’m pretty sure they’d pick me.”
Troy laughed richly as we shuffled toward the dining room table. I felt okay when I was sitting, but being upright and mobile made me woozy. Once we were all settled around the dining room table and tucking into mac and cheese and pork loin, my mom finally asked the question.
“So tell me, you two.” She waved a knife between us, narrowing her eyes as though she’d guessed the secret. “Have you made it official?”
Troy and I shared a warm look. There was still so much more we needed to talk about. But how could I even hope to stop thinking about this man?
“It’s up to your daughter,” Troy said with a big smile to my parents.
“We haven’t really talked about it,” I said slowly, fighting a grin as I cut into my pork loin.
“I’m sorry! I’m zipping my lips!” My mom mimicked zipping her lips shut and throwing away the key. “But I do have one more question. Troy, do you need a place to stay? We have extra room for you if you need it.”
He looked at me first for permission. When I nodded—entirely unable to contain my cheek splitting grin anymore—he said, “I’ll take you up on that. I’m supposed to be heading back to New York soon but I’m not sure what my plans are anymore. Also, I owe you and Mr. Lambert some new drywall after what happened upstairs this morning.”
“You don’t owe us anything,” my father insisted. “We oweyou.”
Dinner was lighthearted and yummy, and for a moment, things felt normal. Like we hadn’t lived through a home invasion and assault only half a day earlier. I was ready for bed earlier than normal though, my headache driving me upstairs. My mom got the spare room ready for Troy while Grace and I showered and got into pajamas. There was no way Grace was going anywhere but at my side tonight, and I worried the whole ordeal had traumatized her. Troy came in to say goodnight to us, showering me with all the pent-up kisses from throughout the day.
“Thank you for being incredible,” I whispered through the kisses.
“Mommy’s face has a boo boo,” Grace asserted. Troy and I paused, looking at each other before laughing.
“It definitely has a boo boo,” I told her.
Troy squeezed my hand, kissing the back of it. “I’ve got a call with the Nightingales first thing in the morning.”
The mention of his trip had a sobering effect. “Let me know what happens.”
“You’re the first to know,” he promised me. “Do you need anything before you two go to sleep?”
