Page 50 of Papa's Bébé


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Wait.

Did he say that she would stay in his sight at all times? Did that mean he was planning on . . . on living with her?

Oh no.

Why hadn’t she thought this through properly?

Why had she agreed to having him as her bodyguard? This was . . . this wasn’t going to work.

She had to somehow get rid of him. He was a better choice than Vince. But that wasn’t saying much. A venomous spider would be a better choice than Vince.

“I have to get home.” She had to get back to her babies. She had been gone too long and it was making her anxious.

Not to mention that she just couldn’t spend any longer with these people.

“Home? What do you mean you have to get home?” her father demanded.

“My babies. I have to go and check on them.”

“Your babies? Really, Maya. This is more important than your little pet projects,” Kathryn said.

Pet projects?

Her babies weren’t her pet projects. They were her life. She scowled at Kathryn.

“You need to take this seriously, Maya,” her father said.

“I am taking this seriously, which is why I agreed to a bodyguard. But I really have to get home. I . . .” She hesitated, staring at her father. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, Dad. Please be careful.”

She rushed out of there, ignoring several voices that called out to her. Maybe it was wrong or rude, but she just couldn’t stay there anymore.

Getting outside, she headed to her car.

“That’s the last time you do that.”

The voice behind her made her cry out and she jumped into the air. Turning, she found him behind her.

Come on, Maya.

Reach for that shield.

But it just didn’t come. She had no idea why.

He was the kryptonite to her sass.

So instead her gaze went to his chest and stayed there. “What?”

“That’s the last time you run off without me. I’m your bodyguard. That means I need a body to guard. I can’t do that if you’re running away without me.”

“So . . . I . . . um . . . I should . . . runwithyou.”

God.

She was an idiot. Her words were running together in an effort to get them out.

“Yes, you should run with me, Sassy.”

“I’m . . . I’m not . . . I’m not sassy,” she told him.