A Bodyguard For The Princess (A Bad Boy Romance) (24 page)

I didn't say anything, just crouched down at the opposite end of the bed with a bucket of trash between us and looked for those pesky weeds she could never completely get rid of. I remembered I used to hate having to help her when I would rather be in my room on the computer, talking to my friends, but as I got older, I minded it less and less. Weeding was really the only aspect of gardening I was any good at, though it had taken Mom ages to get me pulling them in a way that didn't make a mess of everything else. She looked over at me and smiled widely, then went back to carefully replanting what she had put into pots and brought inside for the winter.

We worked in silence for a while, moving closer to each other and switching places. I finished before she did but knew better than to try and help. Instead, I took the bucket full of weeds over to the garbage can pressed up against the side of the house and dumped the trash. Then I returned my gloves to Mom's tool bucket and took the empty one to the little shed in the corner of the yard. My old swing set was still in front of it. I was a bit big for it now, but that didn't stop me from sitting on the swing and testing the chains that held it to the overhead pole before backing up and rocking gently back and forth through the air while I waited for Mom to finish. I could hear kids shouting and laughing. I didn't blame them for wanting to be outside playing rather than doing homework. Besides, tomorrow was Saturday. There was a whole weekend to get everything done.

I closed my eyes and tipped my head back, feeling the sun and the warm breeze on my face, listening to the soft scrape of a trowel in soil and the happy chirping of birds as they flitted from tree to tree, singing their joy that spring had returned. When I opened them again a couple minutes later, Mom was packing up her stuff and putting it away in the shed. I dragged my feet along the ground to stop my momentum and stood, brushing off the butt of my jeans out of habit.

Mom wrapped one arm around me in a tight hug and gave me a firm pat on the back. “Thanks for helping, sweetie,” she said. “You want something to drink? Coffee? Juice?”

“Yeah,” I replied, then added, “I'm kinda hungry, too.”

Mom gave me that smile—the knowing one—and rubbed my back again before pulling away. “I'll make you a sandwich, and you can let me know how work's going. How's that sound?”

“Great,” I replied and followed her back into the house. Fred appeared in the kitchen a few seconds after we got there. I sat down at the table, and he hopped up on the counter only to be immediately shooed away by Mom's waving hand. He came over to me instead and jumped easily into my lap, settling down and purring the second my fingers started scratching behind his ears.

“How's work going?” Mom asked as she heated up two cups of coffee in the microwave and set about getting the makings for a sandwich.

“It's fine,” I said over Fred's purring. “I really like my new place. It's a bit small, but it's only a studio. I kind of miss having a door to put my bed behind, though.”

“Did you get that room divider like I told you to?” Mom asked.

“Yeah, it's okay. It gets the job done, at least. It's still kind of weird, but the front door has a bolt and a chain, and I'm not on the first floor. I might try and get some curtains set up instead. The divider's kind of...obtrusive.”

“You do whatever you need to do. You know, Evan might be able to give you a hand if you want some help setting something like that up. Or his son. I'm sure both of them would be more than happy to.”

“Is Evan the guy you've been telling me about?” I asked quickly, directing the conversation towards what I really wanted to know. A big smile blessed Mom's face like she had just won the lottery, but she cut the sandwich she made in half and got the coffee from the microwave before she joined me at the table. I gave Fred a little shove until he got the hint and jumped off my lap to rub his head against my leg instead. “Mom.” I'd never seen her blush before, but she did then.

“We've been talking for a while, yes. His name is Evan, and we met online. Don't you dare say anything,” she said quickly in response to whatever look I had on my face. “You're the one who started me on it anyway, remember? Wrote my profile and everything, so don't you go making fun of me.”

I held my hands up in surrender. “Sooooo? Tell me about him!”

“Well,” Mom said, “he's a year older than me, a single dad. I think his son's about your age. He's very handsome. Well, to me. I don't think he's your type.”

“I really hope not,” I replied. “What's he do?”

“Works in an office in the city. Nothing glamorous, but it seems like it pays pretty well. I know where he lives, but I haven't had a chance to visit yet. Normally, he comes out here after work, we go to dinner, and sometimes come back here to watch a movie.” I chanced a glance towards the sofa. “That's
all
we do,” Mom said. “Don't look so disgusted.”

“Me? Disgusted? I'm totally not disgusted, no way.” I shook my head to drive my point home.

Mom gave me a look that said she wasn't fooled. “Eat your sandwich.”

I took a huge bite and chewed purposefully. She rolled her eyes at my wordless sarcasm. “So, when am I gonna meet him?” I asked.

“Don't talk with your mouth full,” Mom said automatically. “I have to call him and make sure he's still free, but when I mentioned you coming home, he suggested we all go out to dinner. His son is home, too, so it'll be a good chance for us all to meet. I really think this guy is special, Annie. I have a good feeling about him.”

“I always did want a brother,” I said teasingly, but the wistful look on Mom's face made me think there was a greater chance of that happening than I initially expected. It was weird that my mother was considering getting remarried. I didn't begrudge her the right to, of course. Just because I had a decent relationship with my dad didn't mean she had to stay alone forever. All I ever wanted was for her to be happy, so if Evan was making her feel that way, then more power to him. As long as I liked him, I'd be perfectly content. I just needed to know for sure that the guy dating my mom was in every way deserving of her.

“Okay,” I said, eating the last bit of my sandwich. “Well, I'm going to go unpack, get settled in and everything, you know.”

“It's still your home,” Mom said. “You know that. I think I'm going to pop out and do the shopping quickly, get it out of the way so there's enough food for us this weekend, and hopefully, by the time I'm back, I'll have heard from Evan about tonight. You'll be okay while I'm gone, right?”

“No, I'm going to wallow in despair at being left in loneliness.” Mom whacked my arm but joined in my laughter, then ruffled my hair. “Do you need me to come help?”

“No, no, get your stuff out of your bag and enjoy your afternoon. I'll enlist your services when I return. Oh—” She paused near the front door with keys in hand. “There're cookies in the cabinet. Don't eat them. They're a special kind for Evan. I'll get a pack for you while I'm out.”

“Yes, Mom,” I replied obediently.

“Good. Back soon. I'm locking the door behind me.”

I hummed, my mouth occupied with a drink, a reply mostly lost under the sound of the door shutting and locking. I finished my tiny lunch with only Fred for company, then headed upstairs for the tedious task of unpacking. I was tempted to live out of my suitcase for the brief time I would be there, but I knew Mom would give me grief about it if I did, so I stuck all my regular clothes in the top drawer of my old dresser and hung the nice outfit in my closet. Fred poked around amongst the stuff still stored in boxes until I shooed him out lest I close the door and lock him in.

It was pretty easy to return to the habits of my youth even after living on my own for almost a year. I wasn't hungry, but I was more than happy to veg out on the sofa in front of the TV with a can of soda and enter a near-catatonic state. Mom wasn't gone for long, maybe an hour or so, but when she returned, she had her confirmation from Evan. There was a glow of happiness in her cheeks I hadn't seen in a long, long time.

That night, I carefully attended to my appearance. The dress I wore was fairly simple—plaid with thin straps and buttons up the back instead of a zipper. It had been ages since I'd been able to wear it, thanks to the weather. I wasn't sure how to do my makeup but decided a light coating was probably the best route, so I covered up the little blemishes on my face, mostly on my chin where I always got breakouts, and applied a tiny bit of eyeliner.

When I regarded myself in my old bathroom mirror, I liked what I saw. Pretty much everyone told me I looked like my mom, but I couldn't see the resemblance until I got older. When I was a kid, I had always denied it, but looking at myself all dolled up, I could see the similarities in the shape of my face. I had her brown eyes, too, and the same straight brown hair. By all accounts, pretty plain, but I had enough self-confidence to admit I was reasonably attractive. Especially when I put some effort into making myself look decent. It was a shame no cute boys seemed to realize that. Well, one boy had...

Ah, well, that was a train of thought to follow at another time.

Right now, it was all about my mom's happiness. I was going to be on my best behavior, but I was going to find out whatever I could about Evan—just to make sure that he was the right guy for Mom. And maybe I wanted to scope out my potential future stepdad and stepbrother.

Not for the first time, I was ready before Mom. She had that trait all parents have where they take an age and a half to get ready, but if you weren't ready in five minutes, you got scolded. I waited downstairs, flexing my toes in my heels until I heard Mom clomping down the stairs, announcing she was ready. She looked nicer than I had ever seen her.

She smiled at me. “Do I look okay?”

“You look great, Mom,” I said, and meant it with all of my heart. She checked the watch on her wrist, an old wedding gift she had grown so attached to that it was one of the few things she had held onto after the divorce.

“Well, we better get going or we'll be late, especially with all this traffic.” I followed her to the car. I didn't know the place Evan had picked, but a quick search on my phone revealed that while it wasn't a top tier five-star, super-expensive, gourmet restaurant, it wasn't exactly the cheapest place to take three people out to dinner. Simply called Murphy's, contrary to my initial assumption, it was a steakhouse, not a tiny Irish-themed diner. The menu looked pretty good. I was eyeing a photo of a stack of ribs when we arrived. Mom had to drive around once to find a parking spot thanks to the dinner rush, but we ended up pretty close regardless. If Mom was nervous, she hid it pretty well. I wasn't, not really, but I was hungry, so I was glad Evan was paying because I could eat enough for everyone.

Mom looked for Evan's table, but the host had to take us over. I was distracted by how happy Mom looked and failed to notice that I recognized the person sitting next to the man who was clearly Evan. A person I thought I'd never see again. The only person in my twenty-two years who had ever shown any serious romantic interest in me. The only guy who had broken my heart so badly it still hadn't healed.

Mom greeted Evan. He kissed her cheek and hugged her. He leaned over the table to shake my hand when Mom introduced me, but I could only stare into Zach Longsley's incredibly blue eyes. It was a small comfort that he looked just as shocked as I did.

Zach

I swear to God, I almost fell straight out of my seat when I saw Annie Newell walk through the restaurant towards Dad and me. I hadn't seen her since college, not since I'd broken up with her and she... Damn, she looked even better than I remembered. I'd not seen the dress she wore before, but it definitely flattered her tiny frame. Her hair was up in a simple ponytail the way she'd always worn it, falling over one shoulder. Dad's date reached us first, and I only barely remembered to stand in time to shake her hand, moving so fast that I almost knocked my chair over backwards. Ms. Newell said something about how it was nice to finally meet me, and I must have said the same thing because she smiled at me and took the seat Dad pulled out for her. Both of them seemed oblivious to the staring contest Annie and I had locked ourselves into.

“Zach,” Dad said softly in a pointed tone.

I jerked into action, pulling out the remaining chair for Annie, getting a whiff of her familiar scent as she sat down. Her posture was stiff, and I didn't blame her. This wasn't exactly how I had planned my evening going, either. My mother had raised me to be polite, but I couldn't stop staring. Good thing I was over twenty-one, because I would not be able to get through this dinner without a drink or two. Maybe more.

Annie watched me carefully. A wave of guilt smacked me in the chest. We hadn't parted on the best of terms, and Annie's eyes were empty when they looked at me; I had no idea whether she had forgiven me or not. The whole situation was awkward, more so because of the past I shared with Annie. What were the chances that my dad would end up dating her mom?

I remembered my manners and tore my eyes away from Annie. My throat had gone dry, and I almost spilled water down my shirt trying to drink too fast. Annie's cheeks were pink. Both of us were quiet while our parents talked, not having been drawn into their conversation yet. I was happy to leave them to their own devices, and at least there was some noise to fill the gaping chasm of silence growing between Annie and me. Dad and Ms. Newell were too busy pouring over the menu to pay much attention to us.