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Chapter Four

LILY

Most of the time, my assignments are willing participants, but I’ve never had one try to run away.

So not only do I have to keep an eye out for anything unusual or threatening as we move through the small airport in Sarabella, but I also have to maintain a careful watch on Payton’s movements in case he tries to bolt again.

Like now, I have to course-correct him because he’s heading toward the exit. “Baggage claim first, big guy.”

“Big guy? If that’s your wifey nickname for me, I ask that you please try again.”

I squelch a laugh bubbling up. Payton’s sense of humor can be quite disarming. And distracting, which is a full-on negative in my book.

“You are taller than me,” I sing-song. When I was a kid, I hated being the tallest kid in the crowd, but then, as I got older, I learned to use it to my advantage, like staring down a bully who was a good six inches shorter than me. Worked every time.

He leans his head toward me. “Not by much.”

The look he gives me as he says this isn’t what I expected, as if he likes that I’m tall, finds it attractive, even. Most guys I’ve encountered seem to only want cute little petite women. And that’s never been me.

As we reach the luggage carousel, I guide Payton to the far end, away from the gathering crowd and closer to the side exit in case we have to leave fast, then send Del an update as to our location.

Just for the record, I don’t mind him pointing out my height. I’m used to it, mostly. I shot up in eighth grade, earning me the nickname ‘mosquito legs.’ And I’m often asked by shorter women to reach items on upper shelves at shops. So I’m tall. Big deal.

“We’d be eye level if you wore heels. Do you ever wear heels, Lily?”

Is he trying to flirt with me? “Not if I can help it. Can’t run well in them.”

“That implies you’ve had experience.”

“You could say that.” I spot my bag and move us both closer to the circling belt.

“I revealed all kinds of details about my life. Surely, you can spare a few more about yours.” A surly undertone accompanies his statement.

“I’ve told you all there is to know about me. Anything else,” I shrug, “NDAs have my lips sealed.”

“So, that’s your full story?” He uses his fingers to tick off each one. “You grew up an orphan, did a brief stint in the military after high school, and went into private security in London.”

“Good job, Payton. I’d give you a sticker if I had any.”

He turns to face me. “There has to be more than meets the eye.”

As his eyes move down my form to emphasize his point, heat rides up my neck to my cheeks. Why am I reacting this way to him? I’ve done protection details for celebrities who make most women’s toes curl, yet mine remained completely straight .

“Nope. That’s it.” I go to reach for my bag, but Payton gets there first, lifts it to the floor, and extends the handle. And he does all this without breaking eye contact. Does the man have eyes in the back of his head like some kind of secret antennae?

“What do you do in your spare time?”

I grab my suitcase and glide my bag toward the exit with Payton in tow. “Sleep.”

“What about books? Do you read? Do you have a hobby?”

“Not much time to read in my line of work. And I’m never home long enough to engage in hobbies. Unless you count working out.”

“That’s something.” His interest seems piqued. I always look for a way to connect with my principals for the sole purpose of building trust, which reduces resistance.

Observation #1: If my principal ’ s talking, he ’ s distracted and much easier to manage.

I snap my gaze to his. Maybe a little test of the waters. “From what I understand, you have a fairly regimented workout schedule. That’s challenging in my line of work. Can’t always keep a routine.”

“Yes, but sometimes regiments can feel too controlling, so I prefer to shake things up.” He runs his forefinger and thumb around his mouth as if drawing an imaginary goatee, which isn’t hard to imagine with the hefty five o’clock shadow already there.

His eyes dart back and forth like a wild animal searching for an escape.

The glass doors whoosh open. A wall of humidity envelopes us as we step outside. Payton slips his phone out of his jeans pocket. “Shoot. I meant to arrange an Uber when we deplaned, but a certain someone distracted me.”

Now I’m a distraction? Somehow, I have to figure out how to get him to take this seriously. Otherwise, it will be a constant battle to keep him safe.

Recognizing Del behind the wheel, I point to the dark gray SUV pulling up to the curb. “Already taken care of.”

Making sure to reach the vehicle before him, I open the rear door for Payton. “You first.”

His gaze drifts from me to my suitcase, and I can almost hear his thoughts.

“I can handle my bag, Payton. Please get in.”

He turns to face me after getting in to say something, but I shut the door. Once my bag is stowed, I climb into the back seat on the other side. Del adjusts the rearview mirror so we can make eye contact.

I give the subtlest lift of my brow to let her know this assignment is far from the norm, then glance at Payton to make our communication less obvious. He’s staring at me again and hasn’t bothered with his seat belt.

“Buckle your seat belt.”

Observation #2: When flustered, the principal loses track of details.

And judging by how his knee is bouncing up and down, he’s nervous, too. He must have really thought he’d convince me to stay behind in London. Now I understand why his sister dangled a carrot for this assignment to make sure her brother didn’t finagle his way out of their agreement.

I never expected such an offer, but when Payton’s sister interviewed me, we clicked.

She said if I could manage her brother, she’d put me on her permanent security detail.

It’s an ideal position that would secure my future.

As much as I love my work, I’m not a fan of the constant change of assignments and locations.

I’d rather have a long-term position…something stable and familiar.

The closer we get to Payton’s apartment, the faster his knee is bouncing.

Once I catch Del’s eye in the rearview mirror, I touch my left brow to signal the principal is in meltdown mode.

When we stop at a traffic light, Del taps her nose to let me know to check my phone, then leans forward slightly.

Seconds later, I hear the ping of a text.

Del: He has a roommate.

“What?!” Ignoring Del’s warning glare, I swivel my head to look at Payton. “You have a roommate?”

His eyes widen slightly. “Yes, I do.”

“That wasn’t in the brief. And your sister didn’t mention it.”

He lets out a noisy breath, sounding almost relieved. “It’s temporary. Luke’s getting married in a couple of months.”

Which means I’ll have to stay in Payton’s room. “This could be a problem.”

His brows furrow. “How did you find out?”

Del glances at him over her shoulder with a cheeky grin. “That’s our job, luv. We make it a point to know everything.”

Payton wags his finger between us. “Wait. You two work together?”

I shove his hand down on the seat, registering the callouses on his fingers. “Yes. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

He lifts his shoulders. “I didn’t think it would matter.”

“You were that sure you could get rid of me?”

One side of his mouth tilts up with his sheepish expression. “Yes.”

I realize I’m still holding his hand at the same time he glances down at the tangled knot between us. With a grunt, I yank my hand back. “This complicates everything.”

Payton’s smile stays in place, matching the mischievous gleam in his eyes. “I suppose we’ll get to test our acting skills sooner than planned.”

Acting skills? He still thinks this is a game. Mentally, I’m shaking my head. This assignment is going to take more patience than I expected. But I tuck that thought away for another time to explore. Right now, we have a roommate to fool into believing we’re a married couple.

Once Del parks the sedan in front of the apartment building, Payton jumps out before me and takes his chivalrous self to the trunk to extract my suitcase.

I can’t help but wonder if he’s playing nice to make up for his ‘oversight,’ which I suspect was more out of his conviction that he’d fully expected us to part ways in London.

While I keep an eye on him, Del puts her window down. “Sorry, luv. I only discovered it last night, and by then, you were already on the plane. Figured it would wait until you landed.”

I step closer to the vehicle so he won’t hear me. “He tried to lose me at the airport.”

At the thud of the rear trunk closing, she glances backward. “You might want to do some damage control just in case there’s anything else he didn’t tell his sister.”

“Copy that.”

With a parting wave, Del backs out as I follow Payton and my suitcase, which he insisted on taking, toward his apartment.

I assess our surroundings while analyzing the trepidation sitting in my stomach like a lead pipe.

Am I just nervous about convincing this roommate that I’m Payton’s wife, or am I picking up on something else?

Right away, I spot the temporary cameras Del installed as we step onto the sidewalk leading to his door.

A staircase spanning to the second level sits to the left.

The open design of the stairs gives me a clear view of what’s beyond them, but the lighting’s somewhat dim, creating shadows that could conceal a threat.

Payton stops in front of the door but doesn’t unlock it.

I glance over my shoulder to make sure no one’s coming from behind. “What are you waiting for?”

His gaze slides from the door to me. A fine sheen of moisture covers his forehead, which could simply be the stifling humidity or nerves. Or both. “Listening to hear if Luke’s inside.”

“This would have been easier if you told me sooner.”

He holds his hand up. “I didn’t think it would be necessary.”

“Because you were convinced you’d come home alone.” My half statement, half question, makes him cringe.

“Well, yes.”