The Bodyguard by Adair Cherry; Showalter Gena; O'Clare Lorie

Author:Adair, Cherry; Showalter, Gena; O'Clare, Lorie [Adair, Cherry; Showalter, Gena; O'Clare, Lorie]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Suspense
ISBN: 9780312943233
Publisher: St. Martin's Paperbacks
Published: 2010-06-29T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

What seemed endless hours later, Gabby perched inside Sean’s newest stolen vehicle, circling the dead Bill’s house. Sean was casing it, she knew, as well as waiting until the sun dimmed. Time ticked by slowly, dread filling her, until finally, he parked at the far end of the street. Shadows were thickest there, lying patiently under a grove of oak trees. Plus, they could still see the house and those around it. All remained calm in the affluent suburb, most of the home owners still at work. But they could return at any moment.

“You ready for this?” Sean asked, glancing over at her.

She nodded unenthusiastically. Her years on the streets, B and E had been her specialty. No home had been safe. She’d learned the best times to snatch and grab, the best times to go in easy and linger. She’d learned the signs of a nosey neighbor and what to avoid. Usually she’d just stolen food and clothing, knowing she couldn’t live with the guilt of taking something that held sentimental value. But sometimes, when things were particularly tough, she would take something easy to pawn.

Not that she’d broken into someone’s home in years. The day she’d been deemed old enough to waitress had been a relief.

“Hey. You okay?” Sean asked.

You’re not stealing anything this time. Just gathering information. You can do this. “Yes,” she said. “Just . . . bad memories sneaking up on me.”

A slow grin lifted Sean’s lips.

“What?” Her reply hadn’t been funny. Had it?

“It’s just, the first time I met you, getting any answer besides ‘yes’ or ‘no’ from you was impossible. Now you explained something and I didn’t have to beg for it. Could it be you’re starting to, I don’t know, like me?” His grin became megawatt.

Though she was panicking inside—she couldn’t like him—she rolled her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“So what bad memories were troubling you?”

“Do you really want to talk about that now?” There. He hadn’t gotten any information out of her.

“Why not? I want to wait at least an hour before going in the house.”

An hour? Alone with Sean? The man she’d slept with last night? The man she’d snuggled with and breathed in and dreamed about and still craved this morning when she’d woken up, upset to find herself alone?

“Why? Was he married? Is his wife still in the house?”

“Nah. Nothing like that. The longer we wait, the darker it will be. Besides, Bill was as single as the rest of us. The job kind of does that to you, keeps you from forming anything lasting. I mean, it’s not like we can tell a date what we do.”

“Well, you can tell other agents.”

“But they work the same insane hours, leaving hardly any time for play.”

“And you expect me to sign on happily for the same kind of life?”

“Like your life is any different now,” he said dryly. “Aren’t you the one who told me you like temporary men?”

Good point.

“So . . . have you ever wanted anything more?” he asked.

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