Page 11 of Wrecked (McIntyre Security Bodyguard #16)

When I walk into my bedroom with just a towel wrapped around my waist, the room is empty.

He’s gone.

I just know it. A glutton for punishment, I check the kitchen and the spare bedroom just to be sure, but there’s no sign of Cooper.

“Cooper?” My voice shakes as I call for him.

He bailed on me.

Without a fucking word. Without an explanation.

Not even, Hey, I’m sorry, but I’ve changed my mind.

Or, Hey, I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is a good idea.

He just walked out.

I return to my bedroom just long enough to pull on a clean pair of underwear and grab a pillow and a blanket. I walk out to the living room and crash on the sofa.

I don’t want to sleep in my big empty bed tonight. It’s too much of a reminder of what didn’t happen.

Against my better judgment, I was willing to take a chance on him, and I got burned in the process.

* * *

At eight the next morning, while I’m sitting on my sofa eating microwave pancakes slathered with butter and maple syrup, I get a text message from Shane.

Shane: I’ll drop Beth off at Clancy’s at nine. My sister Lia will pick her up at two.

Me: Got it. I’ll be waiting for her.

Last night, as I fell asleep on the sofa watching old Star Tre k reruns, I wallowed in self-pity. And I nursed a bruised heart.

But this morning, I’m pissed.

And I’d rather be pissed than sad any day.

Since I showered yesterday evening for no damn good reason, I don’t bother doing it again this morning.

After I finish breakfast, I dump the dirty dishes in the sink and go get dressed.

Since I’ll be shadowing a cute girl in a bookstore, I figure it’s okay to dress casual.

I pull on a pair of gray cargo pants, a camo T-shirt, and a pair of combat boots.

I tuck my Beretta into my ankle holster so it’s not visible to bystanders. Just in case, I’ve got a spare magazine and more ammo in one of my bulky pockets.

It’s only eight-fifteen, so I have time to walk to the bookstore rather than catch one of the many cabs lined up outside the apartment building.

It’s cool enough this time of the morning that I’m not in danger of working up a sweat.

Besides, the exercise will do me good. I need to get my head on straight.

I need to stop the pity-party going on in my brain right now.

Oh, woe is me. Cooper bailed on me. Again.

Well, fuck him. That’s what I say.

The first chance I get, I’m going to a gay bar and I’m going to find some big, burly bear to fuck Cooper right out of my thoughts.

* * *

I arrive at the bookstore with fifteen minutes to spare. I stand at the front door and wait for Beth to arrive. Right on time, Shane pulls up in a sweet silver vintage Jaguar. After giving him a kiss, Beth steps out of the front passenger seat.

I walk outside to greet her. “Hiya, boss.”

She gives me a beaming smile. “Hi, Sam.”

“So, what’s on the agenda this morning?” I ask as we step inside the store.

She frowns as she glances up the curved staircase to the second floor. “I should probably go upstairs and find Vanessa.”

“Do we have to?” From what Shane has told me about the woman, I could do without ever meeting her. “That woman scares me.”

As I hoped, Beth laughs. “Me, too. Come on, chicken. Let’s brazen it out.”

Since my job is to shadow Beth, I’m glued to her side as we walk up the stairs and down the hallway to the administrative offices.

There, we encounter an adorable, petite young brunette who greets Beth enthusiastically. The girl’s practically bouncing on her feet. “Hi. Are you Ms. Jamison?”

“Yes, I’m Beth.”

The two young women shake.

“Erin O’Connor,” the brunette says. She’s got a sweet, lightly freckled face and big blue eyes. Her shoulder-length dark hair is parted on the side and clipped back from her face with gold barrettes. “I’m one of the assistant managers,” she adds. “Ms. Markham told me to expect you this morning.”

As the two women chat, I survey the office, getting a feel for the layout. It’s a large open room, and there are a number of people in here, seated at their desks, all busy on their computers.

After Erin O’Connor hands Beth an engraved nametag, she turns her attention to me. “You must be one of the new security guys I’ve been hearing about.”

I nod. “Don’t mind me, ma’am. I’ll just blend into the scenery.”

As Erin gives Beth a tour of the back offices, the staff kitchen, and the employee lounge, I trail after them.

Beth puts her purse in her assigned locker, and then Erin shows her how to clock in for work.

Really? The owner of the bookstore has to clock in ? Apparently, that’s The Dragon Lady’s doing, too.

I lurk in the background in an effort to stay out of the way and try not to think about Cooper ditching me last night.

The more I think about it, the more my anger fades to hurt.

I’m trying desperately to hang onto the anger because I figure being mad is better than feeling used. Or outright rejected.

When the girls head out of the admin office, I follow.

Erin is attempting to walk in a pair of three-inch black stiletto heels and doing a piss poor job of it. She’s going to fall and break her neck if she’s not careful. Beth notices, too. She keeps giving me worried glances.

When Erin does stumble, I reach out to steady her.

“Sorry,” she says. “I hate these stupid shoes.”

Then why the hell is she wearing them? It turns out, wearing heels is another company policy implemented by Vanessa, The Dragon Lady.

Beth doesn’t look impressed.

On our way downstairs, Erin bypasses the elevator, telling us employees aren’t allowed to use it. Apparently, Vanessa thinks using the elevator makes employees lazy. So Erin heads for the fancy curved staircase with the wrought iron railings.

Beth is pretty miffed. “So, you’re going to risk breaking your neck going down the stairs in those heels because someone thinks using the elevator is lazy?”

“Yes?” Erin replies hesitantly, flinching as if she’s the one in trouble.

Beth looks to me for backup, and I shrug. But she’s right. Erin’s going to break her neck on those stairs.

I step in front of Erin and walk down the stairs ahead of her so if she does topple over, I can catch her.

I’m trying not to laugh, because it looks an awful lot like my first bodyguard job is more like a high school hall monitor job—trying to keep the peace and keep the kids out of trouble.

The rest of the morning amounts to Erin showing Beth the ropes and explaining how the store is run. I follow them around, trying not to be too obvious about it, but ready in case anything goes wrong.

I notice Beth eyeing me warily, as if she’s worried about me. “You don’t have to hover, Sam. Go do something. Walk around, take a break. Read a book—we have plenty.”

It’s all I can do not to roll my eyes at her.

In the Army, I lived rough for days, sometimes weeks on end, under wet, cold, and hungry conditions, often with little to no shelter.

After crawling through mud and sleeping under bushes, working in an upscale bookstore is a cakewalk.

I could get used to this real quick. “I’m fine, boss. ”

“Beth,” she says, giving me a gentle reminder to call her by her name.

I nod. My bad. “Beth.”

Later, we all trudge back upstairs to the administrative offices so Erin can show Beth her desk.

Beth seems surprised she gets one. But when we see it, her surprise quickly transforms into disappointment. It’s the ugliest utilitarian desk I’ve ever seen. It makes Army surplus desks chic—they’re not. Beth gets a desk and a chair, and nothing else.

“There’s a supply cabinet over there,” Erin tells her, pointing at a metal cupboard across the room. “With pens, pads of paper, and staplers. Stuff like that.” Erin winces as if she’s embarrassed to even show it to Beth.

There’s a lot more back-and-forth stuff as Beth settles in to her new job. I give Beth a week before she loses it.

* * *

At two-thirty, my replacement shows up—Lia McIntyre, one of Shane’s sisters and a McIntyre Security bodyguard. At five-two, with blonde hair in braids and big blue eyes, she looks hardly more than a kid. She maybe weighs a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet.

Lia stalks into the business office like she owns the joint and hops up to sit on the corner of Beth’s ugly desk. “Hey, Princess. I like what you’ve done with the place—very industrial chic.”

Princess? I guess that’s a fitting nickname.

Beth looks so relieved to see Lia. I take it these two are friends.

“I’m starving,” Beth tells her. “Please feed me.”

Lia smiles. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

It’s time for Beth to head out. Erin and I walk her and Lia downstairs to the door. Erin hugs Beth.

I give her another fist bump. “See you tomorrow, boss.” This time she doesn’t correct me.

After Beth leaves with Lia, I’m done for the day. It’s still early, and I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t dare go to the shooting range and risk running into Cooper again. I don’t want to put myself through the torture of yet another disappointment.

I end up heading back to the apartment building. After I change into workout gear, I go to the fitness center to do some strength training. Maybe I’ll lift some weights and run a few miles on the indoor track.

After about ninety minutes of sweating my ass off, I head up to my apartment and take a shower. I nuke one of those Hungry Man fried chicken and mashed potatoes microwavable dinners and eat it in front of the TV.

When there’s a knock on my door, I freeze with the fork halfway to my mouth. There’s really only one person it could be —Cooper, coming down here to rub what happened last night in my face.

I ignore him.

He knocks again. “Sam? Please open up.” His voice sounds muffled coming through the door.

Still, I ignore him. He doesn’t even know for sure I’m home.

“Sam, your truck is in the garage, so I assume you’re home. Please open the door. We need to talk.”

“Go away!”

“I owe you an apology.”

“No shit, Sherlock. But I’m not interested in hearing it, so go away.”

He’s quiet after that, and there’s no more knocking. It looks like he actually listened this time and left.

I got my wish, so why do I feel like shit?

* * *

The rest of the week is pretty much the same. I spend my days hanging out with Beth at Clancy’s. Actually, I’m having fun so I can’t complain. Beth’s a great girl, very kind and friendly. She and Erin are quickly becoming friends. The three of us are soon as thick as thieves.

Mack Donovan’s always lurking in the background, keeping an eye on things.

He seems like a great guy. I’m pretty sure Erin thinks so, because she blushes every time Mack speaks to her.

I think she’s wasting her time though. She’s even younger than Beth, probably in her early twenties, and Mack’s got to be in his mid-thirties.

The age gap between those two is pretty significant.

And while I do catch him watching her a lot, I don’t think he sees her the same way she sees him.

When Friday night comes around, and I’m off the clock, I decide it’s time for me to let loose and have some fun. Just as I promised myself, I get dressed up—tight black jeans and a graphic tee that says YES, DADDY —and I Google the best-rated gay clubs in town.

I am not going to let Cooper get to me. He’s not the only fish in the sea. I’ll find someone else who’ll scratch my itch. Someone who’s not afraid to show up and follow through.

Around nine that evening, I walk into a swank place called Sapphires.

The music’s pounding, the sapphire blue lights—hence its name—are flashing.

The dance floor is jam-packed with guys of all shapes and sizes and ages.

Some are dressed up and some are barely dressed.

There’s someone here for everyone. Hopefully including me.

I take a seat at the bar.

“What can I get you, hon?” asks a cute, muscled blond behind the counter. Instead of a shirt, he’s wearing a black leather harness, inlaid with what looks like sapphires, strapped to his silky-smooth bare chest.

“Something fun. Surprise me.”

The blond grins. “I like the sound of that.”

The bartender hands me a neon blue drink in a shot glass.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“It’s our signature drink. You’ll love it.”

Feeling a bit reckless, I knock it back. “Hey, that’s good. What’s it called?”

“We call it a Blue Ball. I made it up myself.”

“That’s fitting.” I laugh at the irony, thinking of the times Cooper gave me blue balls. Even after all this time, I can’t stop thinking about it.

The bartender looks confused.

“Never mind,” I say. “It’s an inside joke. I’ll have another.”

Right as I knock back my second Blue Ball shot, a giant of a man takes the barstool next to mine. “I’ll have what he’s having,” he says in a deep, booming voice.

I glance at him and automatically think lumberjack. He’s big and burly, with wavy brown hair past his shoulders and brown eyes. He’s got a serious beard.

“I’m Teddy,” he says.

I immediately think teddy bear , because he sort of reminds me of one, assuming a teddy bear could bench press four hundred pounds. I have to stop myself from laughing. I wonder what’s in those Blue Balls because already I’m feeling a bit tipsy.

“Wanna dance?” the teddy bear asks me as Chris hands him his drink.

“Sure.” I came here to mingle. What do I have to lose, other than my blue balls?

God, stop thinking about Cooper!