Page 21 of Playing with Trouble

She adjusted the strap of her purse over her shoulder as she walked toward me, side-eyeing me with that familiar annoyance.Without a word, she passed me, and I automatically fell into step beside her as we headed toward the exit.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to you lurking,” she said, her tone dry.

I laughed, refusing to let her prickly disposition phase me.I knew she wasn’t happy about this situation and I was pretty certain her attitude was her way of dealing with that loss of control.“I don’t lurk.I protect.Big difference.”

She shot me another sidelong glance, her heels clicking against the pavement.“I can walk myself to my car, you know.Been doing it for years without a bodyguard glued to my hip.”

“Not anymore.”My tone left no room for argument.“Did you not hear the part where I’ll be guarding you until the situation is resolved?”

“Loud and clear, sir,” she said, a flash of defiance in her green eyes.

God help me, that look nearly undid me.I wanted to grab her wrist, press her back against the nearest car, and remind her exactly how good it felt when she stopped fighting me and gave in.That smart mouth of hers was begging to be silenced, and every time she threw a challenge my way, it made my palms itch.

We reached her vehicle—a rental car judging by the plates.I pulled the keys from her hand before she could fumble with them, unlocked the door, and held it open.“You might not want a bodyguard, but you’ve got one.I’ll be close by at all times until this threat is gone.”

Violet slid into the driver’s seat with a dramatic roll of her eyes.“You do realize how creepy that sounds, right?”

“Only if you don’t trust the guy doing the guarding,” I replied.

I waited for a smart remark, but she surprised me by exhaling a deep breath, meeting my gaze, and saying, “I hate that anyone has to watch over me, but I do trust you.”

For a second, her words caught me off guard.Violet, who never let anyone see a crack in her armor, was trusting me.I knew how much it cost her to say that, how much she hated needing anyone.That trust wasn’t something I took lightly.Protecting people was my job, but protectingher?That felt personal.

I followed her home, and after we arrived we headed up the pathway to the front door of her townhome.When we got to the small front porch, she gaped at the pizza boxes and food bags that had already been delivered.

“What’s this?”she asked, almost defensively.

“A late dinner,” I said, picking up the items while Violet unlocked and opened her door.“You’ve been on your feet all night.I thought you’d be hungry, and so am I.We can eat while we go over everything and I get settled in.”

She bristled at the reminder that I was going to be in her personal space.That previous moment of vulnerability, where she’d admitted she trusted me, was gone and the guarded Violet was back.

Violet huffed out a breath as she looked at the array of food items I’d set on the living room coffee table.“What did you even order?”

I shrugged.“I wasn’t sure what you liked on your pizza, so I ordered half supreme, half cheese, and also a pepperoni and sausage.Plus the wings and the cinnamon twists, and the chicken alfredo.Their pasta is actually really good.”

Violet pursed her lips at me, like she could sense I was attempting to commit the heinous crime of ‘taking care of her’.“Right.I’ll get us drinks.”

She disappeared into the kitchen while I opened everything up and set out the napkins and paper plates that had come with the order.She returned with two cans of soda, plopping down on the couch hard enough to make a statement.She shoved one of the drinks towards me.

“I want you to know that just because I have to put up with you being here doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

A slow smile tugged at my mouth.“Oh, I’m well aware.”

I made a calculated guess and slid a slice of pepperoni and sausage pizza onto Violet’s plate before she could protest.She picked it up, eyeing it like it might be poisoned.

“Relax,” I said, grabbing a slice for myself.“It’s just food.Not a binding contract.”

“You sure?”she muttered irritably, biting into her pizza and arching her brow at me.“Feels like the fine print says, ‘sign here and surrender your independence to Ford Perish, professional pain in the ass, for the foreseeable future’.”

I chuckled and reached for a chicken wing, refusing to be baited, which I was pretty certain she wanted.“That’s one hell of a title.Rolls right off the tongue.”

She tossed her crust onto her plate.“You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” I murmured, smirking at her, thinking how damn good she looked all riled up, like she had no clue that she was the most tempting thing in the room for me.“Here I am.Sitting on your couch.Eating pizza.Keeping you alive.”

Her lips parted, and for a beat she looked like she might actually smile.Instead, she narrowed her eyes, trying to mask it.“You’re enjoying this way too much,” she accused.

“Not as much as I enjoyed the last time you were under me,” I dared to say.