went over to the toilet, put the lid down and sat, angling himself so she’d have privacy and he could see the door. His weapon was at his back, ready should he hear anything. The only thing he heard, however, was the sound of her undressing. The soft thump of her robe hitting the floor. Then there was the whoosh of her touching the water. He wasn’t sure at first if it was her hand or her foot, and then it kept on going, so he knew she was naked. She was lowering her body into the tub. Getting wet. Getting warm.
His face heated as his mind pictured every inch of that body sinking into the tub. He thought about that moment at the gym, when he could have kissed her, and he wanted to shoot himself for being such an idiot.
After a deep breath, he forced himself to focus again. He was her bodyguard, not her lover. He had no business thinking what he was thinking, and he deserved the discomfort in his pants. His dick didn’t know any better, but he did. Christie was his client. Clients and sex didn’t mix.
“Boone?”
His name echoed slightly in that soft, whispery voice that came from fear. “Yeah?”
“Talk to me.”
“About?”
“Anything. About you. Where were you born?”
He closed his eyes for a moment, clicking through the alternatives. There were several things he could tell her, and if she checked, they’d all pan out. But it felt cowardly to lie in this room, with her being so incredibly vulnerable. “Tennessee.”
“I’m surprised. I don’t hear the accent.”
“Yeah, I had one. I got rid of it.”
“Why?”
“I needed to blend in.”
“Oh, okay.”
He waited, unsure what she wanted from him. But then he decided she just wanted noise, something to cover the sound of her washing. “I had an older brother. Teddy.”
“Had?”
“He was killed in Desert Storm.”
“Oh, God. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. He was a great guy. A hell of a soldier.”
“Is that why you became one?”
“No. It’s just what we did. My father was a lifer. Hell, no one ever called him anything but Major. We were an army family, all the way. ROTC, enlisting the day we came of age. I never thought of doing anything else.”
“What about your mother?”
He sighed. “She was a good army wife. She could pack up and move a house in a week. Nothing fazed her. She took everything like a good soldier.”
“Are they still around?”
“Yeah, they are. Back in Tennessee. My father’s retired. He likes to hunt now. Hunt and fish.”
“Must be nice.”
“What, hunting?”
“No, having parents who approve of you. Who care.”
He laughed. “Boy, are you off by a mile.”
The water sloshed. “But you were in Delta. That had to have made them happy.”
“It did. For a while.”
“What happened?”
He took in a deep breath and let it out slow. “Things didn’t turn out the way any of us expected.”
“You’re talking about the Balkans, aren’t you? About the mess that got Nate killed.”
“Yeah.”
He listened as she washed. At least that’s what he pictured. A sponge moving over her pale skin, down her arms, dipping under the water to caress her long legs.
“Boone?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you miss your mom?”
All thoughts of wayward sponges ceased instantly with that word, but aside from the slight flash of guilt, he registered the tone of Christie’s question. She was hurt, alone and in one hell of a mess. “Sometimes,” he said. “Do you miss yours?”
“No,” she said, her voice a lot softer than a moment ago. “I miss Beaver’s mom.”
“Who?”
“You know, Beaver Cleaver. His mom. She would have been great, wouldn’t she? Always dressed so neat and tidy, always making sure the house was clean and dinner was on the table when Ward came home from the office. She listened to all their problems, no matter how silly they were. And she never made either of her kids feel stupid.”
“Versus your mother, who did?”
“Oh, yeah. She’s an expert. She loved us, I suppose, in her own dysfunctional way, but sometimes it was awfully hard to tell.”
“How’d you turn out so great if she was so awful?”
She didn’t answer, and he was tempted to turn and look, but he kept his focus on the doorknob, nothing else.
“Christie?”
“Just thinking,” she said. “Thinking that it was my dad’s influence, but it wasn’t. The good parts of me are because of Nate. He wasn’t that much older, but he was the adult in our house. Can you believe that? As crazy as Nate was?”
“Yeah, I can believe it. Why do you think he was the team leader? The man had some serious skills. I’ve never met anyone I could depend on like Nate. He was the rock, no matter what.”
“Yeah. A pigheaded rock, but man, when I needed him, he was right there. You know he beat up Scott Fairchild for me? That was excellent.”
“Tell me,” he said, wanting nothing more than for her to relax, and for him to stop thinking about how naked she was.
“Fairchild was an ass. He was a year ahead of me in high school, and he thought he was too damn cool for the rest of us mortals. What a jerk. He used to put a chalk mark on his locker for every girl he slept with. Well, that he said he slept with. The chalk was white, and when the janitor wiped it off, he’d just chalk them up again.”
“Why did Nate beat on him?”
“Because he wanted to put me on his list.”
“Oh.”
“No, no. It wasn’t like that. It was worse. I was young and stupid and totally into wanting to be popular. So when he asked me out, I was thrilled. I spent all my babysitting money on a new outfit, and talked about it for days and days before the actual event. He picked me up, introduced himself to my parents with his Eddie Haskell manners, and the minute we were in the car, he
