Page 111 of The Bodyguard's Fall

“That’s…good,” I said, my mind whirling at what this might mean. “When do you go back?”

He sighed. “I pushed it off as long as I could. I told them I needed more time, but my boss is…” He stopped, rubbing a hand over his face. “I have to be back on November 2nd.

November 2nd. I mentally calculated. That was two weeks away. Quite the ticking time bomb, if I did say so myself. I’d have to add that to my screenplay.

“I’d just tell you to move to Burlington with me, but I can’t take you to work. And I wouldn’t feel safe with you alone anymore.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I should, and I could go to work solving all your crimes with my expertise.”

He smiled, albeit a bit sadder than usual. “I wish I could.”

I could feel him shutting down and closing off. But I didn’t want to end on that note. “I’ll be fine. I’ve definitely surpassed the master when it comes to hand-to-hand combat.”

He snorted. “You still have a few lessons to go, Rocky. Don’t get too cocky yet.”

“Too late.”

The tractor hummed in our ears as we drove in pensive silence.

“I just thought we’d get him by now. He’s here. It just…feels like he’s waiting for something, and I don’t know what, and it’s driving me crazy.” Tate’s frustration flew from him in spades.

We drove for a while in silence, both of us quiet.

“When should we get the marriage annulled? Before you go back?” I asked. I was keeping myself numb, not allowing myself to think past what I needed to say—the elephant in the room. I couldn’t attach myself to this man forever. He had a life, and he needed to get back to it.

Tate stilled, staring at me for a long time until he had to turn the tractor. When he looked away, I could finally breathe.

He never answered my question.

A few nights later, Tate left the house, leaving me in Tom and Luke’s charge. But to my surprise, he was back only ten minutes later, carrying something he immediately deposited in the pantry.

There had been an awkward undercurrent between us after our conversation in the tractor. He avoided my gaze as much as I did his, but like magnets, our eyes kept clashing. They kept finding each other, even when we were trying to hide.

And then, I did something stupid.

I made Tate dinner.

I had been helping Ann make spaghetti in the kitchen. I thought the entire family would be here to eat, except for Ben and Jaxon. That was the impression Ann had given me right up until Tate arrived back home and ran upstairs to shower. About the time we heard the bathroom door lock, Ann and Tom snapped into place, suddenly making a big show about how they’d forgotten about eating dinner with the mayor and his daughter tonight, and they needed to leave, but to go ahead and eat with Tate. Luke was still at home, nursing a head cold, but would be holed up in his room downstairs.

Tom and Ann graciously waited until Tate had descended the stairs before they hustled out the door, waving their goodbyes. By that point, I’d begun to get suspicious, but when Tate strolled into the kitchen, freshly shaved, washed, and wearing a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a t-shirt, with a smile on his face, I was past suspicious.

“Did you do that?”

“Do what?” he asked innocently, coming to stand by me as I drained the spaghetti at the sink.

“Kick everyone out of the house?”

His brow furrowed adorably. “Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know.”

Tate pulled two plates out of the cupboard. He set one at the head of the table and the other just next to him. I brought the food over to the table while he filled our glasses. So now Tate and I sat alone at the table together, eating my overcooked spaghetti and enthusiastically browned garlic toast, and the whole scene suddenly felt very…domestic.

“Should we Lady and the Tramp this spaghetti? Just in case he’s watching?” Tate asked me, holding up a long noodle with a fork.

I gave him a tight smile, but a depressive gloom had settled over me. The squeak of the chairs. The folded newspaper tossed on the side of the table. The casual conversation amid bites of dinner. The warm knee brushing against mine under the table. Such an innocent scene to throw me for such a big loop.

Tate’s plan to get married to avoid collateral damage had been severely misguided.