Page 17 of Wrecked (McIntyre Security Bodyguard #16)

Early this morning, I left a tin of cookies at Sam’s door because I didn’t know what else to do.

He won’t talk to me. He won’t answer my texts.

I thought about leaving him flowers, maybe a single rose, but that didn’t feel right.

That’s a romantic gesture, and I’m not in a position to offer him anything romantic.

I don’t want to muddy the waters and hurt him any more than I already have.

It gutted me to see him last night, even for just a moment. He clearly looked pissed, hurt even. I just wanted to pull him into my arms and hold him. I wanted to comfort him.

Kiss him.

I wanted so desperately to kiss the hurt away.

I shouldn’t have gone down to his apartment last night, but I couldn’t stop myself, even though I had no idea what to say to make things better.

Hey, Sam, let’s be friends?

No, because I still want to fuck him.

Let’s be friends with benefits?

No, because that’s basically what happened the other night, and in the process I hurt him.

It killed me when he told me no last night—that we couldn’t talk. He can hardly bring himself to look at me.

I don’t know what to do. I’ve never felt like this before.

At a complete loss, I head back up to the penthouse, where I find Shane sitting on one of the sofas in the living room. He’s reading.

“What are you reading?”

“Jamie’s new book. It just came out yesterday.”

Jamie, the third eldest McIntyre brother, is a former Navy SEAL now turned international best-selling military thriller author. He was also blinded in his final tour of duty in an explosion that nearly killed him.

Shane uses a slip of paper to mark his spot and closes the book. “Do you want to talk about it? I’m all ears.”

I glance toward the kitchen, looking for Beth.

“She’s still asleep,” he says as he sets his book on the coffee table. “Does this have anything to do with your recent shitty attitude?”

I start pacing. This is so damn hard for me to talk about, but Shane’s my only option. He’s the only one who knows about my past. About Cody’s death—hell, his murder , because that’s exactly what it was. Those assholes murdered him because he was gay. And they nearly killed me as well.

Growing up gay in the South back in the sixties and seventies? It just wasn’t done. Sam grew up in Ohio in the late nineties—a completely different world by then. I don’t think he can imagine what I went through.

Shane motions to my feet. “You’re going to wear a path in the rug.”

I stop moving and face him. “I don’t know what to do.”

That catches him by surprise. “About what?”

“Sam.”

Shane winces. “Oh, man. I told you when he first started working here to stay away from him.”

“Yeah, well, it’s too late for that.”

“You two hooked up? Damn it, Cooper! I warned you not to.”

I nod. “It was just one time, about a week ago.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“I made it crystal clear to him it was just a one-time thing. That was it. Just once. Nothing more.”

“Your usual MO.”

“Yeah. And I told him this. I was very upfront about it, and he said he understood.”

“Again, I ask you, what’s the problem?”

“As soon as it was… over… I asked him to leave.”

Shane winces. “Where did this take place?”

“Here at the penthouse, the night you and Beth slept at your apartment in the office building.”

Shane sighs. “I see. Go on.”

“Now he won’t talk to me. I’ve tried to see him, but he shut the door in my face. He said we’re done.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted in the first place? A one-time hook up? A fuck and done?”

“Yes, but—”

“You hurt him, Cooper. How do you expect him to act?”

Hearing those words from Shane hit me like a punch to the gut. But he’s right. It was exactly what I wanted. I got what I wanted, and now I’m screwed. “He won’t even talk to me, Shane.”

“What do you expect, Cooper? You fucked him and then sent him home. It was a classic walk of shame. Do you think he has feelings for you?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Do you have feelings for him?”

“He’s a great guy. He’s pretty incredible, actually. But no.” I shake my head adamantly. “No way.”

“No—you don’t have feelings for him? Or no—you refuse to admit you have feelings for him?”

“Is there a difference?”

Shane chuckles. “Oh, yes, my friend. There’s a huge difference. You like him, don’t you?” When I don’t answer him, he adds, “I’ve known you a long time, Cooper, and I’ve never seen you act like this over anyone.”

I look him in the eye. “I can’t have feelings for him, Shane. You know that.”

“It would be difficult to keep that a secret, yes, when you’re working for the same company.

Hell, he’s about to become Beth’s full-time bodyguard, which means he’ll be coming in and out of the penthouse on a regular basis.

You realize that, right?” Shane’s voice starts to rise as he’s clearly losing patience with me.

“What are you going to do then? Huh? Ignore him? Pretend you haven’t been intimate with him?

How’s that going to go over? How’s he going to handle seeing you on a daily basis?

And do you seriously think Beth won’t pick up on the tension between you two? ”

As I run my fingers through my hair, a soft feminine voice says, “Is something wrong?”

Damn. I was so wrapped up in my conversation with Shane that I didn’t even notice Beth coming down the hall. “Hey, darlin’. Good morning. Are you ready for some breakfast?”

She’s wearing a blue nightgown and matching robe. Her hair is tousled from sleep. She must have gotten up just minutes ago.

She looks at Shane, then at me. “Is everything all right? I heard voices. You sounded upset.”

“Everything’s fine, honey,” I say. “So, what sounds good for breakfast? Pancakes? French toast? An omelet?”

“Thank you. French toast sounds wonderful, if it’s not too much effort.”

“Coming right up. With bacon, too. The coffee’s ready. I’ll get you a cup.”

Shane holds his hand out to her, and Beth joins him on the sofa. He pulls her into his arms and kisses her temple. It’s such a sweet, loving gesture.

For a fleeting second, I imagine having the right to do that with Sam. Pull him into my arms anytime I want. Kiss him. The thought makes me smile. “Coffee’s coming right up, Beth. And then I’ll get on your breakfast.”

As I assemble the ingredients to make French toast, I realize my conversation with Shane didn’t resolve a thing. I’m still stuck in an untenable position. And it’s only going to get worse once Sam starts showing up here in the penthouse on a regular basis.

* * *

Later that day, I call Sam, but he sends me straight to voicemail. So, I text him instead.

Me: Can we talk, please?

He doesn’t even reply.

Me: Sam, stop with the cold shoulder. We need to talk.

No reply.

Me: Damn it, Sam! Fucking answer me. Quit acting like a child.

Sam: There’s nothing to say. You got what you wanted.

I stare at his text. Part of me is damn happy he finally replied. But the other part of me realizes he’s right—I did get what I wanted. A one-night stand.

Sam: Just stop texting me, ok? This is pointless.