Page 42 of Thirsty Bodyguard Summer

“For this morning, Cassidy keeps close contact during the approved beach walk,” Sloane said. “The perimeter agent remains in place.”

“I’ll stay with him,” Cassidy said.

“Rafi will coordinate the venue changes and assign the afternoon relief. Neither of you changes the route before he clears it.”

“We won’t,” I said.

When the call ended, Cassidy picked up her phone and held the dark screen in both hands.

“You’re still wearing the earpiece,” I said.

“I’m still working.”

“Then I assume the off-duty version of you is unavailable.”

“Until I’m off duty again.”

I stepped close enough to touch her but waited.

Cassidy hooked two fingers into the waistband of my shorts and pulled me down for a brief kiss.

Then she released me.

“That was professionally reckless,” I said.

“That was six seconds.”

“I counted at least eight.”

“You were distracted.”

“I usually am when you kiss me.”

She moved toward the kitchenette before I could convince her to repeat the timing experiment.

Breakfast arrived from the inn ten minutes later. The relief agent checked the covered tray before passing it inside. Cassidy locked the door behind him while I uncovered scrambled eggs, toast, sliced melon, berries, and enough water to satisfy a woman who considered hydration a moral issue.

“You’re eating before the walk,” she said.

“I see Sloane’s ruling hasn’t reduced your authority.”

“It increased the number of people who’ll help me enforce it.”

“That’s mildly terrifying.”

“You’ll survive.”

“I’m beginning to think that’s your entire courtship strategy.”

Cassidy sat across from me. “Eat your eggs.”

I obeyed because I was learning, and because she was watching my fork with the same focus she gave a blocked exit.

Halfway through breakfast, I called Tracy.

She answered by video from a hotel desk, her chestnut bob already smooth and her cream blouse too polished for Saturday morning.

“You’re awake,” she said. “That’s promising.”