Bodyguard Under Fire. Elle James

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Bodyguard Under Fire - Elle James

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breath she’d been holding, relieved she wouldn’t have to confront him yet. She’d spent the better part of the rest of her night tossing and turning, thinking about the man who’d attacked her, and more so, the one sleeping on the other side of her door.

      She’d known that one day she’d have to tell Chuck about Charlie, and she’d been fully intending to tell him upon his return from his deployment. She thought she had two more months. The day had come sooner than she’d anticipated, and she hadn’t been ready.

      PJ exited the building and hurried toward her car, hoping she wouldn’t run into Chuck outside. Charlie had fallen asleep in her infant carrier even before they’d left the apartment. Her little eyes scrunched as the full force of the morning sunlight shone down on her tiny face.

      PJ juggled the carrier to unlock the car. Charlie whimpered but remained asleep.

      As she settled the carrier into the car, PJ’s skin prickled and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She cast a glance over her shoulder.

      No one was there, although she could have sworn a shadow shifted at the corner of the building. Snapping the seat into place, PJ straightened and faced the back of the resort building.

      “Anyone there?” she called out, her voice shaky, her knees even shakier.

      No answer. A curtain was pushed aside in a window above and Chuck peered down, half of his face covered in shaving cream.

      Warmth filled PJ’s neck and cheeks. The man was ageless and looked as good today as he had a year ago when she’d been young and stupid in love. Seeing him standing there with his razor in his hand made PJ’s heart turn cartwheels against her ribs.

      Chuck disappeared and reappeared at the sliding glass door on the balcony of his room, bare-chested, a towel slung over one shoulder. “Are you okay?” he called out.

      The heat built in her cheeks as she nodded. “I’m fine.”

      “I thought I heard you call out.”

      “I talk to myself sometimes.” Feeling foolish and paranoid, she gave him half a smile. “Gotta go.” PJ slipped behind the wheel of her beat-up car and closed the door to avoid further conversation with the father of her child. What else could she say while standing in the parking lot and him hanging over the balcony? Welcome back? Sorry I didn’t tell you about your baby? Or, damn, you look good?

      She shifted into Reverse, backed out of the parking space and pulled out onto the road. A glance in her rearview mirror confirmed that Chuck was still standing on the balcony, watching her. Below, at the corner of the building, something moved. PJ frowned, slowed the vehicle and shot a quick glance over her shoulder at the resort.

      Nothing.

      She supposed paranoia was bound to be a result of postattack jitters. With a shrug, she turned the corner and drove to the church day care on the other side of town where Charlie spent her days with Dana, who worked there part-time, and the other ladies who ran the child care program. She’d been going there since PJ started to work for Cara Jo at the diner two months prior.

      PJ worked mornings, lunch and early afternoon. Late afternoon, she spent either at her computer or in the library taking college courses online.

      Dana met her at the door to the infant room. “Running a little late, aren’t you?”

      PJ dropped the diaper bag on the floor and slid the infant carrier off her arm. Dana took the carrier and set it on a counter, unbuckling Charlie from the restraints. “Hey, sweetie, come see Auntie Dana.”

      Charlie’s eyes blinked open, and she stared up at Dana.

      Regret tugged at PJ’s heart that she had to spend so much time away from her daughter. But she’d made a commitment to build a better life for herself and Charlie, and the only way she could do that was to get a degree. And she wouldn’t have been able to do that if not for the scholarship she’d received from an anonymous benefactor.

      Dana lifted Charlie into her arms and stared across her downy hair to PJ. “So, did you meet him?”

      “Meet who?” PJ pulled the bottles of breast milk from the diaper bag and settled them into the refrigerator, determined to ignore Dana’s questions. Unfortunately, she couldn’t stop the slow burn rising in her cheeks at the mere mention of her new neighbor in the resort apartments.

      A smile spread across Dana’s face. “You did. Isn’t he hunky?”

      “Dana, you’re married. What would Tommy say?”

      She shrugged. “I’m married, not dead. And I’m only thinking of you, not myself.”

      PJ’s lips twisted into a half smile. “I know him.”

      “You do?”

      “Yes, we dated for a while.”

      “Shut up. You’re kidding, right? That gorgeous hunk?”

      Knowing it would be out before long, PJ kissed Charlie, her heart pinching tight. Then she crossed to the door, her hand resting on the knob, ready to yank and run. “Look, I have to get to work. But you should know that the man you met last night is Charlie’s father.” She opened the door.

      “Oh, no you didn’t.” Dana advanced on her, carrying Charlie. “You didn’t just hit-and-run. You have to stay and tell me everything.”

      “I can’t. I’m already late for work. I promise we’ll talk this afternoon when I pick up Charlie.”

      “Darn right you will.” Dana smiled down at Charlie. “And we’ll spend all day talking about your daddy, won’t we, sweet baby?”

      PJ slipped out before she broke down in front of Dana. After the attack last night, the intense joy of seeing Chuck for the first time in almost a year and then breaking the news of Charlie to him, PJ was emotionally wrung out. And she hadn’t even pulled her eight-hour shift yet.

      She trudged to her car and hurried back the way she’d come, anxious to dive into work so that she could forget everything else.

      Ha. As if that would happen. With Chuck hired on as the handyman, she didn’t have a chance.

      Cara Jo cornered her as soon as she entered the diner with its black and white tiled floor and fifties-style tables and chairs. “I can’t believe I slept right through everything.”

      PJ shook her head. “I take it you heard about the incident last night.” She stepped around the counter and tucked her purse behind the stash of paper towels.

      “I didn’t hear anything. No sirens, no screaming, nothing. I had to hear it from a deputy who’d stopped in for coffee this morning.” Cara Jo grabbed PJ’s arms. “Are you okay?”

      PJ smiled. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

      “That bastard didn’t hurt you?”

      A chill rippled across PJ’s skin, and she touched the base of her throat where the lamp cord had almost been the death of her. “Not much. Just scared the fool out of me.” PJ grabbed a full coffeepot and struck out across the diner, determined to end the conversation. After refilling several

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