Page 24 of Possessive Bodyguard Summer

Finally she asked, almost in a whisper, "What happens now?"

“Now…I’m calling Sloane.” I walked through the house and out onto the back porch. I could double check everything out here while I talked to him.

Sloane answered on the first ring.

"You don't usually call me after hours. Everything okay?"

"No." My answer came without hesitation. "I need you to look into something for me."

His tone immediately changed. "What've you got?"

I forwarded him the still image from the security camera. "Black touring bike. Circled my house three times today."

"Could be a coincidence."

“Not when this same bike was at the grocery store earlier today. The driver was watching Monroe."

“So this has to do with Monroe?"

I looked back over my shoulder through the window.

She was sitting on the sofa now. Maverick had planted himself at her feet, head resting across one of her shoes.

"I don't know."

"But..."

"But she said Maverick went on guard the minute he saw the guy in the parking lot."

Sloane didn't laugh. He understood exactly what that meant.

"I'll see what I can find."

CHAPTER

TEN

MONROE

The house was quiet. Almost too quiet.

I rolled onto my side for what felt like the hundredth time and stared at the digital clock on the nightstand.

2:17 a.m.

Sleep wasn't happening.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that black motorcycle.

The way the guy on the back of it watched me walk through the parking lot. The way Maverick went on high alert and expressed his concern until the guy started the bike and slowly rolled away.

Seeing the same motorcycle again roll down the street, after I’d gotten home from Kaleigh’s dance class, didn’t sit right with me either. Whoever was on that bike slowed down and looked right at our…I mean Clay’s house. It was like he was staring through the windows and looking right at me.

I blew out a shaky breath and sat up, giving up on trying to go back to sleep.

Maybe a glass of water, or some warm milk would help. Anything that wasn’t lying in bed with my thoughts.

The old hardwood floors creaked beneath my feet as I eased my bedroom door open.