Page 40 of Thirsty Bodyguard Summer

She collected her coral shorts and white tank from the floor, then disappeared into the bathroom. The shower started. Outside, an agent’s shoes crossed the front path, followed by the quiet murmur of a radio check.

The protection detail had continued all night without Cassidy. I understood that. I’d seen the handoff happen. The earpiece lay on the gear case, and I pictured it on someone else.

I got out of bed, pulled on gray lounge shorts, and opened the curtains enough to let in the morning light without exposing the room. The fenced patio held two damp chairs, a small table, and no threatening envelope. Beyond the privacy fence, palms moved against a pale-blue sky.

Cassidy emerged from the bathroom in a pale-blue athletic tank and sand-colored shorts. Her hair was pulled into a loose braid, and the freckles across her shoulders disappeared beneath a thin layer of sunscreen as she rubbed it in.

“You missed a spot,” I said.

“Where?”

I touched the back of her left shoulder.

She went still for half a second, then handed me the tube. “Finish it.”

I spread sunscreen across the warm skin above her tank. Cassidy’s braid brushed my wrist. Last night, I’d had my mouth against the same shoulder while she pulled my hair and told me what she wanted.

Now the sun was up, agents were outside, and she was dressing to protect me from someone who had photographed us together.

I capped the sunscreen.

Cassidy turned toward me. “Thank you.”

“That was a terrible assignment.”

“You suffered bravely.”

“I expect formal recognition.”

“You’ll get breakfast.”

“Positive reinforcement again.”

Her mouth curved before she crossed to the locked gear case.

The change happened piece by piece as she fastened her waterproof watch, checked her compact gear, fitted the earpiece, and tightened her braid. By the time she checked the clock, Cassidy was ready to move me through a crowd, stop a threat, or explain to her boss why she’d slept with her client.

She picked up her phone.

“Do you want privacy?” I asked.

“No, you’re part of the complication.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve called me.”

She raised one eyebrow and placed the call.

Sloane answered on the second ring. “Good morning, Cassidy.”

“Good morning. I need to report a professional-boundary issue before today’s schedule begins.”

The voice on the phone stayed calm. “Go ahead.”

Cassidy stood beside the kitchenette counter, shoulders square.

“After the six o’clock handoff, I removed my equipment and went off duty. The relief agent assumed active protection and remained outside with exterior coverage in place. Shane asked me to stay privately. I chose to stay, and we became sexually involved.”

My chest tightened anyway.