Keeping Her Close
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Snagging her phone off the counter, she pointed it at him as she sidestepped toward the doorway. “You know what? We’ll talk about this later.” She picked up her bag from the floor where she’d placed it earlier and slipped the strap over her shoulder. “Tomorrow morning, okay? When you come for your interview, we’ll figure all of this out and—”
“Harper, I think we should talk about it now,” Kyle countered smoothly. “The sooner we work out some of these details, the better.” That voice. Deep and low with just enough compassion that Harper found herself wanting to comply. Or maybe the compassion part was her imagination, her hope, that this guy was only like Owen in the good ways. That he might be as willing to help her as he’d been to help her dad. But how likely was that? Like brothers, she’d heard Owen say countless times about himself and Kyle. Just because birds had similar feathers didn’t mean they always flocked together, right? Or maybe they did. See? Clearly, she needed to sort this through.
“Okay, tonight, then. After my date.” She gestured toward the front door. “I’ve kept the poor guy waiting and confused long enough. We’ll skip the bungee jumping, go and have a quiet dinner somewhere, and then I’ll come back, and you and I can have a proper interview.”
“Oh. Your date is gone.”
“Gone? Where is he?”
Kyle shrugged. “In his car cruising down Highway 101, I’m guessing.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That you’d call him later.”
“I don’t have his number.”
“You don’t—” He broke off with a sigh of frustration. “What do you know about him? Did you have him checked out?”
“He’s a friend of a friend,” she answered evasively and yes, a little defensively. At the flicker of disapproval that crossed his face, she added, “I agreed to the date a week ago.” Somehow, she needed to explain her rationale. But how uncomfortable and awkward to admit that she’d been excited (sort of) to go on the first date she’d had since she’d been involved with his deceased best friend. Where they’d been in a relationship based on deception that had ended very badly. This was insane. What was she doing? What was he doing here agreeing to babysit his best friend’s ex, anyway? Who did that? Why would he do that?
“Well, from now on, you’re not going out with Mikhail or anyone else until they’ve been vetted. That includes a background check and all the accompanying intel. And an…assessment.”
“An assessment?” Her voice went high and a little shrill.
His expression seemed to thaw slightly. “Yes, I’ll want to meet them. But don’t worry, they won’t know they’re being assessed.” Kyle offered up a hand in a placating gesture. “No one has to know you have a…security consultant working for you. As far as your friends, and dates, know I’m an old family friend staying in your guesthouse and helping with some maintenance. Your dad, if you agree, has hired me temporarily with the hope that this will quickly blow over. In the meantime, I’m going to teach you how to take care of yourself.”
“Take care of myself?” she repeated, taking advantage of the unintentional gaffe. “Are there cooking lessons involved? What about laundry?” He went wide-eyed, and Harper almost laughed.
“No, I meant… I mean security-wise. I’m going to help you be more aware of your surroundings and potential threats and what to do if you are threatened. I’m going to teach you how to use every feature of your security system and—”
“Kyle, I know what you meant. I was joking. I’m sorry, I’m a bit stressed, and I tend to…” She cut herself off because she didn’t need to point out her habit of making bad jokes under duress. She’d already provided him with ample evidence when she thought he was her date. “Let’s, um, do you want to sit down?” Harper gestured toward the living room.
“Sure.”
Harper watched him walk into the next room. As much as she didn’t want to, it was impossible not to compare the two men. On the surface, they had similar features, brown hair, brown eyes, same olive complexion. But everything about Kyle, including his expression, was darker. Kyle didn’t possess Owen’s extreme good looks, but he’d be plenty handsome if he weren’t so…severe. His thick brown hair wasn’t quite a buzz cut, but it was still a little too short for her taste, too militaryish, too Owen-like. But then again, he’d just gotten out of the military. His physique certainly backed that up, that he hadn’t slacked in his conditioning was obvious. And he had Owen on that score. A couple of inches shorter than Owen’s six foot two inches, he was broader in the shoulders, bulkier everywhere and much more defined. The cut of muscles outlined beneath his T-shirt reminded her of an MMA fighter she’d photographed last fall. She told herself it was the artist in her noting these details and not the woman who’d barely socialized, much less dated, in six months.
His gaze traveling around the room, Kyle took a seat in one of the two chairs adjacent to the gas fireplace. She’d already noticed his eyes were an arresting shade of brown, but so dark it made them difficult to read. Like the rest of him. Although Harper suspected he did that unreadable thing on purpose. The whole time he’d been here, he had yet to crack a smile, or even offer much in the way of emotion at all. Except for confusion, but she couldn’t blame him for that. Maybe it was a good thing. Like a robot sitting in the corner, she could forget he was even there. What she did not need in her life was another man with an overabundance of charm and charisma. Those were the very traits that had suckered her in time and again.
Harper settled on the sofa and asked, “Can I get you anything? Something to drink maybe?”
“No, thank you.”
“How about a snack?”
“No.”
“Would you like—”
“I’m fine.”
“Okay, so…” She offered her sweetest smile, the one she used on her most anxious, reluctant, camera-shy clients. And then waited for him to return it. Nothing. No reaction whatsoever. Just that same somber expression. When the moment threatened to turn awkward, she finally gave up. “So, I’d like to explain my behavior. Earlier when you first arrived, I thought you were my date.”
“I caught that.”
“I want you to know that I’m not normally so impulsive and…enthusiastic. Well, maybe I am, to a degree. But not like this. This was…” Shifting around she tried to form an explanation that didn’t make her sound like an irresponsible flake. “You see, I was—”
“Harper,” he interrupted with an outstretched hand. “You don’t need to explain. I know what you were doing.”
Harper chuckled self-consciously. “I doubt that.”
“You were going to have some fun on your last night without your new security guy watching your every move.”
Huh. Well. Points awarded for insight, if not personality. “I can only imagine how terrible you think that is.”
He squinted his eyes slightly like he was trying to decide how to respond. Finally, he seemed to make a decision, and said, “What happened already happened. Or didn’t happen in this case. There was a miscommunication between you and your dad. I intend to speak to him about that. I imagine that he didn’t divulge all the details because he didn’t want you to worry, but I don’t think it does you any favors for him to sugarcoat any threat made against him.”
Harper liked that, that he wasn’t intimidated by her dad. That, and he seemed to be a proponent of honesty.
He went on, “You’re fine for now. Meaning you’re safe. The episode was good in a way. It told me a lot about how much work we’re facing here. My goal is to instill specific habits in you so that you won’t need a bodyguard 24/7 for the rest of your life. So, as far as I’m concerned, we can forget about what happened here today and move forward.”
Harper felt her anxiety ease slightly. Did he mean that in a larger sense? Moving forward was what she wanted. But the Owen factor did need to be addressed.
He must have thought so, too, because he said, “I know that it didn’t end well between you and Owen, that you wanted different things.”
“That’s what he said? Different things?”
“Well, he called me the day before he died. He was…upset. You’d left the country, and he felt… He said you guys had a fight and you’d ended your relationship.”
Harper barely held on to her scoff. It was beyond strange to hear Owen’s version of a “fight” that, for Harper, had been so much more than that.
“But he didn’t say what kind of differences we had?”
“No, but I know he was hoping you’d work them out. If he hadn’t died maybe you two would have…”
Harper froze. All her previous tension rushed back in and then some, blazing with a brand-new ferocity. Her skin prickled uncomfortably. Had Owen said that? Because their issues were impossible to work out. She’d never wanted to see him again, would never have spoken to him again even if he hadn’t been killed in that car accident.
She’d been studying Kyle carefully, listening, watching for any clue that he knew about Owen’s enterprise. Owen had told her in confidence, sworn her to secrecy. He’d said that no one from Dahlia knew about his “side business.” But he needed to bring someone else on board because it was growing so fast. Customers were clamoring for the exotic plants and animal parts he was selling. Mistakenly, stupidly, he’d believed Harper’s love for him would allow her to not only accept this endeavor but to help him. Specifically, with the use of her dad’s jet. He took steps, he assured her, to confirm that his dealings were technically legal. But Harper suspected otherwise. At the very least, it was both unethical and immoral.
Kyle said that Owen didn’t specify what their differences were. If he’d told Kyle, it seemed like there’d be no reason not to mention them now. But still, she had to know.
“Did you, um, did you know much about Owen’s work?”
“Uh, yeah, sure. I’ve been offered a job with Dahlia. I don’t start until next month, but I also have another friend working there. So I have a pretty good grasp of what the work entails.”
“In Africa? Did he talk about his time there much?”
“No…” he drawled, his face twisting with discomfort and confusion. Further evidence, Harper decided, that he didn’t know. She wondered what he’d think about the venture. Had Owen not told him because he didn’t think Kyle would approve? She hoped so.
A more burning question followed and seared her conscience. Was it Harper’s place to tell him the truth?
CHAPTER THREE
KYLE’S INTENSE BROWN gaze caught Harper’s as he started speaking, derailing Harper’s train of thought. “Harper, what I’m trying to say is that I know you loved Owen, too. He was a great man and my best friend. He was like a brother to me, and I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. I don’t know if he mentioned it, but the last mission we did together, he saved my life. He could have been killed. He should have been. We both should be…” His voice trailed off, and Harper was staggered by the emotion she saw, the sincerity she heard, the love and grief he so obviously felt for his friend.
Inhaling a breath, he gathered himself and continued, “Despite your breakup, I know his death had to be hard on you, too. I imagine with how things ended, it was probably even more difficult in some ways than it would have been otherwise. Owen made it clear to me that it wasn’t over between you two.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and she barely managed to blink them away before they spilled over. The Owen she knew did not deserve this kind of devotion.
Sympathy was evident in the deep brown depths of his gaze. “Harper, I, um, I’m just so sorry. Those are words I should have said to you a long time ago. I thought about reaching out to you after Owen died, but I didn’t, and I’m sorry for that, too.”
Harper nodded because she didn’t know what else to do; her tears, her pain, did not exist for the reason he believed, but she couldn’t find the right words to explain. But that wasn’t quite accurate. She had the words; she just didn’t know if she should use them.
“I’m sorry for you,” she finally managed. And that, she realized, was true. She’d often thought about how differently she’d feel about Owen’s death if she hadn’t learned the truth. If he’d died before revealing his true character, before their breakup, she would have been devastated. Of course, she realized now that she’d fallen for a man who didn’t exist. It wasn’t the first time she’d been fooled.
This man seated before her was no robot bodyguard. Her heart went out to him, but at the same time, she was almost jealous of him, of this pure emotion born of unsullied memories. She didn’t see any reason to spoil that for him, to cause him more pain. She decided she couldn’t do it, knowingly tarnish his memory of Owen. What possible purpose could that serve?
Clearing his throat, he said, “You don’t have to talk about it. We don’t have to talk about this anymore. That’s not why I’m here. I did want to apologize, but your grief is your own, as is mine. And I want you to know that as far as I’m concerned, whatever happened between you two doesn’t have anything to do with you and me, with our relationship.” After a pause, he clarified, “Potential working relationship.”
She could live with that. And him, she decided, going with her gut. She couldn’t imagine anything else that he could have said that would have eased her anxiety as much as the speech he’d just given. And he was right; she didn’t want to discuss Owen.
“Okay,” she said, “You’re hired.”
Instead of appearing happy to get the job, he frowned. “Are you sure? Do you want to ask me some questions first?”
“No. I’ve heard—and seen—all I need to know.”
He gave his head a little shake. “Please, don’t let that news story sway you. You know how the media spins everything.”
“It’s not the news story,” she said, even though it was a little. “My dad trusts you.” The fact that he’d risked his own safety to protect her dad counted for a lot. “And I’m sure you met Dad’s head security guy, Denny?” At Kyle’s nod, she added, “Then you meet his standards, too, which are very high.” Weighing her next words carefully, she said, “You’re right that I don’t want to talk about what happened between Owen and me, but I will tell you that he trusted you. More than anyone. He had nothing but wonderful things to say about you. According to him, you were the best man and the best soldier ever.”
Dipping his chin, he scrubbed a hand across one cheek before meeting her gaze again. “The feeling was mutual.”
“I can see that,” Harper said diplomatically. She inhaled deeply and slowly and then eased out the breath. Was she crazy to agree to this? Maybe. But there was something so solid and comforting about this guy, and, if she were being honest, she wanted him to be for real. Without a doubt, she needed some help. He was right that she could have easily let some unknown, potentially dangerous person into her house tonight. Much of the time she didn’t even bother with the security system anyway. When she did, she often wasn’t sure if she’d done everything properly. The notion was rather sobering and lent an extra dose of urgency to his employment. She realized her dad knew all of this and had probably been experiencing something similar when he offered Kyle the job.
“So…” she drawled. “How are we going to do this? Lecture and then lab? Or do you have like a personal security textbook, Stay Safe 101? Just to warn you, I’m awful at pop quizzes. After the first one, I will resent you for the entire semester and not perform to my highest capability.”
Kyle sat back in his seat, seeming to relax a bit as he pondered her tongue-in-cheek questions. And probably her. Had he been nervous that she wouldn’t agree to hire him? That thought was rather endearing. It made him seem both human and normal, and it gave her confidence in her decision.
But only briefly because his expression went stony again. Like granite. Hard, scary granite.
Leaning forward, he placed his forearms on his thighs and tented his fingers. “It’s all lab, Harper. One hundred percent hands-on. And we’re going to start by getting you in shape. Calisthenics for one hour every morning at 4:30 a.m., followed by a five-mile run on the beach.” Tipping his head, he added, “But not your typical run. Every other day, we’ll add an obstacle course to simulate tactical evasion. And three days a week, we’ll have what I like to call target practice.”
What. The. Whatty-what? Harper opened her mouth, shut it and finally managed to stutter, “Um, target what? I don’t know how to… I mean, I don’t—”
He straightened, interrupting her with a stop-sign hand. “Relax, it’s not what you think. You won’t be doing any shooting. I’ll be shooting at you with a paintball gun while you try to dodge it. The less paint on your person, the more lunch you earn. Positive reinforcement can be helpful in specific, isolated training situations.”
Harper knew she was gaping. Was he out of his mind? Had the word normal actually crossed her mind in conjunction with this lunatic? He was as messed up as Owen. More, possibly. She was still trying to decide how to proceed when his face broke into a wide smile, or at least she hoped it was a smile. The whole time he’d been here she’d yet to see it, so she couldn’t be sure. She kept still, waiting, in case she was misinterpreting the gesture. Maybe he was wincing or had something stuck in his teeth.
Finally, he said, “Harper, I’m joking. I do have some basic protocol that we’ll cover. Your dad wants you to become an expert with your security system. But otherwise, we’ll just plan on doing this situationally, taking it one day at a time. Does that work for you?”
Huh. She had not seen that coming. But she also liked it. A grin crept over her, and she laughed. He joined her, and Harper was momentarily mesmerized by the deep, rich sound. The smile that lingered transformed him. Harper met his gaze and warmth spread through her chest, making her head a little light, her thoughts a bit fuzzy. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed like this, felt so at ease.
That thought was sobering in itself, melting her laughter away. Because this situation was anything but easy; she officially had herself a bodyguard.
“ONE SOYSAGE, SPINACH and kale omelet.” Nora Frasier proudly set a plate in front of her only son. “Protein packed with two servings of veggies tucked inside.”
“Thanks, Mom. Sounds delicious,” Kyle lied as Nora turned and sailed back into the kitchen.
Soysage? Kyle mouthed the word to his seventeen-year-old quasi-nephew, Levi, who was sitting across the table from him in his sister Mia’s dining room. Kyle sniffed at his plate, and then whispered, “Does she think it will make it more palatable by having it sound more meat-like? Or that we’ll be so impressed by the clever play on words that we won’t be able to resist?”
Levi let out a snort of laughter, which he convincingly covered with a cough. Or maybe he was choking. Poor kid had already taken a bite of his omelet. Levi lifted his glass of orange juice and took a sip.
Adamantly refusing to put anyone out, Kyle had been crashing on the couch in Mia and Jay’s downstairs family room for the last few weeks since arriving in Pacific Cove. Last night, he’d left Harper’s with the plan for them to meet back at her place this morning. They’d agreed on 8:30 as his official start time. Kyle smiled to himself as he thought about the look on her face when he’d proposed his “fitness plan.” He hadn’t been able to resist teasing her; she was so obviously nervous about this whole security thing. That easy laugh of hers was contagious, even though he recognized her joking around as a defense mechanism. He’d have to be careful about keeping her on track, emphasizing the importance of their task.
Mia was a veterinarian and co-owned a clinic in Pacific Cove. Her husband, Jay, was a former Coast Guard flight mechanic who’d recently started his own construction business. Their home was a large four-bedroom bungalow overlooking the ocean, but it didn’t feel nearly as large as the actual square footage. Two of the bedrooms were filled with Jay’s teenaged siblings, Levi and Laney, who Jay had legal custody of.
Until recently, Nora had occupied the fourth bedroom, but now she lived in a plush apartment above the garage that Jay had recently added on. Nora’s old room was now Jay’s office, which doubled as a sometimes bedroom for Jay’s youngest two siblings, Dean and Delilah, who lived with their other sister, Josie, but visited often and liked to sleep over.
Two dogs and four cats rounded out the total of occupants. And Mia’s dog, George, was roughly the size of two people. Currently, the mastiff-bloodhound mix was camped out under the dining room table with his massive head resting on Kyle’s feet. George was the sweetest dog in the world with a bad habit of eating anything that would fit between his massive jaws. Which gave Kyle an idea.
Leaning backward, he glanced under the table. “Georgie,” he whispered.
“I already tried it,” Levi said, reading his intention. “George won’t eat it.”
“Really? Dang.” That did not bode well. Kyle had seen George eat chunks of rotten seaweed like they were gravy-covered biscuits. Kyle picked up his fork and used it to flip up the top layer of the omelet. Taking a peek inside, he whispered, “What are the grayish-brown bits?”
“Pepitas,” Levi answered.
At Kyle’s confused headshake, Levi explained, “That’d be a pumpkin seed to you and me.”
“In an omelet?” The eggs at least would be good, courtesy of Nora’s cage-free, organically fed laying hens.
“Nora thinks they go in everything. She even puts them in those cookie things she makes.” To Kyle’s way of thinking, the “cookie things” weren’t truly cookies because they didn’t contain sugar. Still, he’d decided he could handle the sugar-free life better than the meatless one.
Kyle let out a dramatic sigh, and said wistfully, “You know, Levi, there was a time in my life when my mom made the best ham-and-cheese omelets on the planet.”
“Ham?” Levi quirked a skeptical brow. “You’re telling me Nora Frasier once ingested nitrite-laden, sodium-infused pork products?”
“Those were good times.”
They shared a chuckle.
“I still can’t believe you have two jobs!” Nora called from the kitchen.
Exchanging concerned glances, Kyle and Levi both hurriedly shoveled in several bites of omelet before Nora reappeared.
“I’m swallowing the peptides whole,” Kyle whispered. Levi laughed outright at his deliberate mispronunciation.
Soon after he’d arrived in Pacific Cove, Kyle had discovered that Levi also was not a fan of the meat alternatives Nora liked to ply them with when he’d come in late one night and found him frying bacon. The real stuff. No fakon for this kid. Kyle enthusiastically offered to help. They’d feasted on bacon sandwiches after which Levi showed Kyle his processed meat stash in the spare fridge in the garage. They’d taken to clandestinely going out for burgers whenever they could manage. No way would either of them risk hurting Nora’s feelings by confessing to these transgressions.
Nora hustled back into the room with her own plate. “And you found a place to live.”
“One job at a time, Mom.” Kyle grinned at Nora. “And the housing is temporary. In exchange for helping out a friend’s daughter, I’m going to stay in her guest cottage for a month. After I start at Dahlia, I’ll be able to find more permanent lodgings of my own.”
“And it’s right here in Pacific Cove?”
“Basically. It’s several miles south of town.”
“Who is it? Do I know these people?”
“I doubt you know them,” he hedged. Of course, his mom had heard of David Bellaire, but after Harper revealed that no one in Pacific Cove seemed aware of the association between her and her father, they decided to keep it that way. This was made easier because Harper used the last name Jansen, her mother’s maiden name, as her professional moniker. “They’re from Seattle, and the daughter has only been living here a few months.”