Page 98 of The Bodyguard's Fall

I turned to look at him. “You’re lucky you don’t get scared.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Of course I get scared. I was always sweating bullets whenever I had to ask a girl out. One time, a snake got in one of our tractors, and I refused to drive it for a whole year after that.”

I laughed at the image. “I love snakes. I guess that makes me tougher than you.”

He smiled. “Nah, I’ve seen your muscles.”

“Then what makes you keep going when you’re scared?”

He stayed quiet as he pondered, lightly fingering the blanket. “There’s always going to be something that scares you. The trick is figuring out what’s worth being brave for.”

I bit my lip, refusing to engage with the rush of heat sliding into my belly at his statement. “What about your job?”

He lay on his back, letting out a sigh. “About ninety-five percent of the time, my job is boring. The other five percent is an adrenaline rush. But when Coleson got shot, for a while I wondered if I was done.”

“You did?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“What made you decide that you weren’t?” I asked.

He was quiet for a long moment.

“You,” he finally said.

“Me?”

“Yup.”

“Care to expound on that?” I asked, feeling slightly breathless.

He huffed out a laugh while he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nope. Not here, anyway.”

My brain was taking that statement to too many places, so I concentrated on another question.

“But are you scared of Leroy?”

There was a long pause before he spoke.

“I’m not scared of him,” he said. “I’m scared of what he could do to people I—” He stopped abruptly, his top teeth skimming his bottom lip, then turned to face me. “To people I don’t like.”

I was no match for his feather-soft voice and the teasing in his eyes. I looked back at the ceiling as my face and body came alive in a fiery flame. I drew a calming breath through my nose.

“Tate, I—” I broke off. There had been something burning inside of me since the ceremony, but the words were stuck in a jumble in my throat. But I couldn’t wait any longer. Now was the time to tell him. So I took a breath and tried again. “I’ve never had someone willing to do so much for me before. So…thank you. Thanks for being here. And for…doing this.”

I winced slightly. Should I have just bought him a thank-you card instead? There were no right words in existence when trying to thank somebody for marrying you to protect you from a bad guy.

A grin stole across his face. “For being here and for doing this? I think you’re in the right profession, romance writer.”

Before I could think it through, I gave his chest a light push—a flirtatious light push, which was a mistake. Touching him was a mistake. His body was warm and solid and all too real. He didn’t retaliate. He didn’t move to touch me, but his eyes flared, giving way to flutters low in my belly.

Immediately, I rolled onto my back, attempting to show nonchalance even through the vibrant undercurrent now humming between us. It had probably always been there, but now it felt magnified. There had always been some level of attraction between Tate and me—at least, on my end. How could there not be? He was my older brother’s attractive best friend. But I’d never let myself be completely wrapped up in Tate’s orbit. We had a very clear and bold line between us.

Except now.

Now, I had a fake rock on my finger, and I discovered that the line had been drawn in pencil.

“Alright, Mrs. Walker,” Tate’s low voice draped over me, causing a new flame to erupt on my already fiery insides.