Tempting the Bodyguard

  Concern radiated from him. “Are you okay?”

  Alana nodded but didn’t speak.

  His heart thundered in his chest. He had been rough. Fuck, they’d moved the heavy oak table a good foot. “Did I hurt you, Alana?”

  “No!” Her eyes flew open. A faint flush stained her cheeks. “Quite the opposite. It’s just that it was…wow. I think you screwed a few of my brain cells out of me.”

  Tipping his head back, he laughed. “Screwed a few brain cells out of you?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled as she peeked up at him through thick lashes. “I like it when you…”

  He was already getting hard again. “When I what?”

  She ducked her chin, adorably shy. “When you kind of lose control. I like it.”

  Oh fuck, he needed to be in her again. “I like it, too.” Placing the tips of his fingers under her chin, he lifted her gaze to his. “And I love it when you lose control.”

  Her mouth opened, as if she was about to deny that, but he kissed her before she could deny what was so obvious. He wanted her upstairs and in his bed, but they got sidetracked on the stairs, and he ended up between her thighs, his arm along her back, taking the burn of the rocking motions.

  Later, much later, they made it to his bedroom. Both of them were exhausted, and he felt like he’d run a marathon.

  He lazily trailed a hand up and down her spine. Each time he reached the slight curve of her lower back, his fingers brushed the swell of her ass and she’d shiver. Of course, he kept doing it.

  She nuzzled her cheek against his chest, letting out a content sigh. “What you did downstairs, on the table people eat at, wasn’t very appropriate.”

  Chandler chuckled deeply. “What is it about you and appropriateness?”

  Her lips curved up. “I’m constantly lecturing people on appropriate behavior, so I guess I’ve always felt like I should behave that way.”

  “Felt?” As in past tense. His brows rose.

  She laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think I could ever be appropriate with you.”

  His heart jolted like he’d slammed a shot of moonshine and he murmured, “Damn straight.” And then he gathered her as close as he possibly could, making a silent promise that no one was going to get near her and hurt her again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Alana woke Sunday, muscles sore in a pleasant way, and for the first time in many years, she wasn’t looking forward to Monday morning. She wanted another week of Chandler and his fingers, his tongue, his mouth, and everything about him.

  Smiling like a total goober, she rolled onto her side and into the spot Chandler had occupied minutes before. Stretching out, she smoothed her hand over the sheet. His cell phone had gone off, waking both of them. He hadn’t answered. Instead, he…he’d made love to her, sweetly and slowly, bringing them both to a shattering climax.

  The phone still rested on the nightstand, untouched.

  Hopefully it wasn’t an emergency, because Chandler was downstairs, making breakfast again. She should really get her lazy ass out of bed and take a shower, but her bones felt like jelly.

  Mmm. Shower. She would never think of bathing the same way again.

  A sudden knot of unease formed under her breast as she flopped onto her back. Her eyes were suddenly wide, fixed on the ceiling. She mentally tallied up the week—the sex, the conversations, the food.

  Damn, Chandler could cook.

  Nothing about what they had been doing was casual. Unless it was a one-week stand instead of a one-night stand. Or a one-job stand?

  Smacking her hands over her face, she groaned. She’d barely spent any time thinking about what brought them back together. And that had to be pretty stupid. Someone out there wanted to scare her, maybe even hurt her, and all she’d been doing for the last week was getting screwed every which way from Sunday and playing house.

  Instead of feeling regret, she felt a smidgen of satisfaction, and that alone made her feel a shit ton of dread.

  She sat up, holding the sheet to her breasts as her gaze flickered around the room. The past week…well, it had been wonderful, but it had to come to an end. Her heart lurched painfully in her chest and the dread turned the blood in her veins to ice. When everything was said and done, where did it leave her and Chandler? Her heart wanted to say there’d be a future but her brain was telling her heart to shut the fuck up, because it wasn’t as hopeful.

  Climbing out of bed, she searched for her clothes before realizing she hadn’t worn any into his bedroom in quite some time. Sighing, she picked up his shirt and slipped it over her head. A dull ache flared in her shoulder at the movement, easy to ignore, and by no means stronger than the feeling in her chest.

  Now, after all these years and doing everything to avoid it, she finally knew how her mom felt when she—

  “Stop,” she said out loud, scrubbing her hands down her face. Panic tasted like a bitter pill in the back of her throat. “You’re not falling…”

  Refusing to even finish that statement, she took several deep breaths and headed into the bathroom. Knots formed in her stomach when she picked up her toothbrush among his things. This…this was all so serious, but was it to him? To her?

  Quickly brushing her teeth, she splashed water over her face and pulled it together. Her neurotic and über-idiotic tendencies were not going to insert themselves and make this happy, fun, and sexy twosome into a nightmarish foursome. Nobody had professed undying feelings for the other and no one was hurting. Everything was fine. It wasn’t like her mom. She wasn’t obsessed.

  Picking up her brush, she quickly ran it through her hair, told herself to shut the fuck up, and placed it back on his sink.

  She was downstairs and almost into the kitchen before she heard the voices.

  “You haven’t answered a single phone call of mine in, like, a week. What the fuck is up with that?”

  Oh, shit.

  Recognizing Chad’s voice, she froze in the dining room. The door was right there, and a second later, she saw Chandler stride across the kitchen, shirtless, pajama bottoms hanging low, carrying a skillet.

  Dear Lord, he looked hot carrying a skillet.

  Okay. Focus. Prioritize. Chandler’s hotness was not the concern right now. How to get back upstairs without being seen was.

  “I’ve been busy,” Chandler replied drily. “And I listened to your messages. There wasn’t anything important. Not like it had to do with your wedding or anything. No one was dying.”

  “No shit, jackass.” Chad came into view, leaning against the kitchen—oh God, the kitchen table.

  Images of what they’d done on that table assaulted Alana’s brain. She needed to get out of here, but she was rooted to the spot. One wrong noise and Chad would see her in his brother’s clothes and well, that shit would be awkward.

  “You haven’t even been answering Chase’s calls.” Accusation rang in Chad’s tone, and Alana frowned. “And you really should’ve.”

  “Why?” Chandler appeared, stopping in front of his brother, folding his thick arms. Standing side by side, Chandler was the brawnier and bigger of the two, but it was easy to see the resemblance. The same dark hair, but Chad’s was shorter, messy, and spikey. Their profile was nearly identical—broad cheekbones, strong jaw. “Let me guess? He’s like you and doesn’t know when to mind his own business?”

  Chad cocked his head to the side. “You’re our brother, and therefore it is our business.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “That’s how you treated us.”

  “When you were sixteen fucking years old.” There was no real heat in Chandler’s words, but Alana felt like an interloper.

  Well, duh, she was, and she really needed to get her ass out of there.

  “Technicalities.” Chad flashed the grin that had women across the nation dropping their panties, even though he was now only concerned about one woman’s panties. The baseball player sighed. “Man, something is definitely going on. Chase said you weren’t over for card
night—”

  “Aw, do the whittle boys miss their big brother?”

  “Maybe.”

  Chandler smirked. “Sometimes I think you two have fully functioning vaginas.”

  Alana pressed her lips together.

  “Fuck you.” Chad stretched out his legs, crossing his ankles. “You really should talk to Chase.”

  Chandler sighed. “Look, what I’m doing is none—”

  “Maddie’s pregnant, you asshole.”

  Alana’s mouth dropped open at the same exact second that Chandler’s did. He stepped back and only half of him was in view. His arms dropped to his sides. “No shit?”

  “Yeah, that’s why he’s been calling you. Wanted to share the good news and shit.” Chad smacked his palms off the table. A small grin appeared. “Her parents are going to kill him, being that they aren’t even engaged yet.”

  “Chase has the ring picked out. You know that. He’s waiting for the right moment or something.” There was a pause. “Guess he waited too long.”

  “Yeah, but do they know that?” Chad laughed. “I must admit, I am so looking forward to witnessing that conversation with Mr. Daniels.”

  “He’s going to eat Chase alive.”

  “Yep.” Chad was grinning.

  Another stretch of silence. “Man, when Chase was over here last, he said he thought Maddie had the flu. Wow. This is… I don’t even know what to say.” Surprise and genuine happiness filled Chandler’s voice. “Chase is going to be a dad?”

  “We’re going to be uncles.”

  “Uncle?” Chandler chuckled. “Man, that’s pretty damn awesome.”

  Standing there, listening to things she had no business listening to, Alana felt this…this deep stirring in her chest and this urge to join the guys, to congratulate them and to wrap her arms around Chandler. She wanted to be a part of the happiness, because she wanted to share it with him.

  Oh God.

  There was no denying what she was feeling.

  Blood quickly drained out of her face. The walls around her seemed to move in, crowding her. The ceiling had to have dropped several feet, because she felt like she couldn’t stand straight. Pressure clamped down on her chest. Was she having a heart attack? Oh no, it was something far worse than that.

  She was in love with Chandler Gamble.

  …

  Absolutely fucking thrilled for his youngest brother, Chandler stood there grinning like a goddamn fool. Chase was going to be a dad? He was going to be an uncle? No shit. Better be having a little boy. If it was a little girl, no male had an ice cube’s chance in hell at getting past the three of them.

  Chad looked like he was about to jump topics again when what sounded like a chair in the dining room deciding to mate with the table drew their attention.

  They turned at the same time.

  Alana stood a few feet back from the table, her face as red as a fire truck and her eyes wide. His gaze dropped, and he swallowed a groan. Damn if he didn’t love seeing her in his clothes.

  However, he did not like the idea of Chad seeing her practically naked.

  And he really wasn’t ready to talk to his brothers about Alana, which was why he’d been spending the week pretending no one was home when they called. It was obvious his two brothers were gossiping like two old nursing home patients, and Alana, well, she was way too personal and important to him to expose her to these two jerks.

  Chad’s eyes grew as big as a kid’s on Christmas morning. He stared at Alana like he’d never seen her before. And he’d never seen his ex-publicist like this before. If he had, Bridget was going to end up a very unhappy newlywed, because Chandler would cut off his brother’s dick. Chad slowly faced Chandler. “What in the hell is going on here?”

  He folded his arms again, giving his brother the “don’t fuck with me” look. “What do you think is going on?”

  “Oh, I have a damn good visual, but I’m praying I’m wrong on that.”

  Anger pricked at Chandler’s skin, and he had to tell himself that this was his brother, so it wouldn’t be appropriate to thump his ass. “Be careful what you say next,” he warned in a low voice. “I’m not fucking with you.”

  An incredulous look crossed Chad’s expression as he pushed away from the table, glancing into the dining room. “That’s fucking Miss Gore.”

  His hands closed into fists. “Chad…”

  “I’m sure you haven’t forgotten that every time she came around me, I felt the need to cup my balls. Or the fact that she blackmailed Bridget. Or that she’s more evil than fucking Medusa on her period?”

  That was it. He was going to knock his ungrateful asshole brother out, and he was a half a second away from doing it when Alana’s voice stopped him.

  “Your balls were always safe around me,” she said, her voice tight as she leveled a cool stare at Chad. To anyone else, she looked unaffected, but Chandler caught the slight tremor in her lower lip and the stiffness in the way she held herself. “Please tell Chase congratulations. I’m sorry to intrude.”

  Chandler watched her turn and walk out of the room. Wanting to go after her but needing to handle something else first, he squared off with his brother. He cocked back his arm. Fist say hello to jaw.

  Chad spun sideways, catching himself on the table. “Jesus.” He straightened, clutching his jaw. “What the fuck was that for?”

  “Are you really that fucking stupid that you have to ask that question?” Chandler seethed. Had the idiot been hit in the head with too many fastballs? “Look, I get that she doesn’t make you warm and fuzzy, but pull your head out of your ass. Yeah, she blackmailed your girl. Total bitch move. I agree.” He got right up in Chad’s face, forcing him to hold eye contact. “But if it wasn’t for Alana— No, shut the fuck up. I am not finished. If it weren’t for her, there wouldn’t be a Bridget. You’d still be fucking around with God knows who. And if Alana hadn’t forced Bridget to go out with you, you know damn well she wouldn’t have.”

  “Well, that was sort of insulting.”

  “It’s the truth.” He forced himself back a step before he hit him again. “You have Alana to thank and instead you treat her like she’s a terrorist. That shit stops now. She deserves your fucking gratitude and your respect. And a big ole fucking thank-you for the wife-to-be and the new multi-million-dollar contract your happy ass just signed.”

  Chad’s jaw worked as he shook his head. “I get what you’re saying and yeah, I’m acting like an ass. But—”

  “But?”

  “Yes.” His eyes flashed with anger. “She embarrassed Bridget. She made her feel like scum and even though forcing her into that mess with me did work out in our benefit, I have a hard time getting over how she acted toward Bridget.”

  Chandler couldn’t argue that Alana didn’t have the greatest skills when it came to dealing with people, but how Chad treated her wasn’t right.

  “Are you sleeping with her? Shit. That’s a stupid question. She was wearing your shirt. I think I got you that one for Christmas.”

  “Shut up, Chad.”

  Chad never knew when to shut up. “Do you have feelings for her? Holy shit, you have—”

  “She took a bullet for me, you fuckwad, so how about shutting the fuck up.”

  His brother stopped yapping, his eyes narrowing. “What do you mean?”

  Half tempted to just kick him out of the house, he picked up the skillet from the island and told Chad what had happened last Monday. The tiny gleam of respect that was suddenly in Chad’s eyes only made Chandler not want to hit him upside the head with the skillet.

  “Damn.” Chad rubbed a spot over his chest. “I don’t know what to say. It’s just that…”

  “You don’t need to say anything,” he grumbled, returning to the stove. “So unless you want to piss me off more, I’m gonna make breakfast.”

  “I’m not invited?”

  He cast a dark look over his shoulder.

  Chad backed away slowly. “Fine. I’m sorry. You??
?re right. I’m being a dick.”

  “I’m not the one you need to be saying that to.”

  His brother was just as stubborn as he was, and while he knew Chad was sincere in his apology, he didn’t foresee him saying it to Alana any time soon. His brother left shortly after that, leaving his gut churning. He slammed the skillet down on the stove, irritated. His brothers needed to get used to Alana, because she wasn’t going anywhere.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The burn in the back of Alana’s throat told her that she needed to get out of here. While Chad’s words and his attitude toward her didn’t come as a surprise, it still stung. Made worse by the fact that she was pretty sure she heard Chandler’s fist hitting Chad. The last thing she wanted was to create any strife between the brothers.

  Shuffling into the bedroom she was supposed to be staying in, she stopped by the bed she had barely slept in. Her heart thumped against her ribs as she turned, tucking her hair back behind her ears.

  God, Chandler had sounded so happy to be an uncle. In her mind, it was easy to picture him holding a baby. He’d be great as a father. She knew it.

  This…this had gone too far.

  Going back to her apartment wasn’t safe, and she wasn’t stupid. Okay, obviously she wasn’t the brightest because she was in this situation in the first place. She needed to go to a hotel and then what? Find someone else to protect her and make sure the crazy didn’t spread toward her job? The idea of bringing someone else into this felt like needles on her skin, but she had to get away.

  She was close to sitting down on her bed and indulging in some really ugly crying, but she forced her legs to remain straight.

  The scent of Chandler clung to her skin, even as she pulled the shirt off over her head and dropped it on the floor. Heading into the bathroom, she turned on the shower and cranked up the heat.

  Her heart felt heavy as she stepped under the showerhead and the steady stream pelted her. For some reason, her skin felt raw and bruised, too sensitive. She shifted slowly, letting the spray hit her back.

  She was in love.

  She had gone and done it after swearing she’d never become her mother. Because wasn’t this how it had started for her? Alana really didn’t know, but what was between her and Chandler had gone beyond sex and a good time. It had morphed into a burning passion that knotted in her chest.