did Ian tell you?” she asked. She needed to know if Hunter had been aware of Ian’s plan, so she would know if she needed to die of humiliation or not. “About this trip?”
“That he has a stalker and you’re in danger. I got the file on her so I know what she looks like. You don’t need to worry.”
“I’m not worried about Savannah.” She wasn’t. Savannah would be where Ian was, not where Melanie was. “I think you coming with me is pointless. No offense.”
The corner of his mouth turned up. “None taken. But I’ve been hired to do a job, whether you think it’s necessary or not.”
“Ian’s not coming,” she told him flatly. There was no way to cover it up. If he didn’t know now, he’d figure it out by nightfall.
But there was no reaction. Just a blank stare. “Was he supposed to come with you? I was under the impression you were taking the trip solo for R & R.”
Excellent. Wonderful. This was officially the vacation from hell. And the ironic thing? She had paid for it. She had put the whole goddamn tab on her credit card as a grand gesture to let Ian know she valued him and their relationship. Even though he was a millionaire and she made thirty grand a year, she had taken on the bill. For love.
Now she was going on vacation with a total stranger who was witness to Ian consciously uncoupling them. Which was about the douchiest way to say “dumping you” ever recorded in the history of relationships. Had cavemen done this? Sent a wooly mammoth with a stone slab and a broken heart on it to their significant others? She wouldn’t be surprised.
A tear escaped, rolling down her cheek. She took a deep, shuddering breath. “He broke up with me. In a note.”
She wouldn’t have chosen Hunter as a confidant, but she was torn between embarrassment and the need to vent. Since there was no girlfriend convenient and she couldn’t use her cell phone on the flight, he was her only option. The disgust and hurt couldn’t be contained. “Can you believe that? After a year. A stupid note. One small paragraph.” Shaking the note, she added, “And he wrote it on the inside of naked people. It just adds insult to injury.”
Then without meaning to, she began to flat-out sob.
* * *
HUNTER RYAN WATCHED with horror as Melanie’s face screwed up and she started sobbing silently, lip trembling and chest heaving. Oh, God. He really hated when women cried. But hell, he couldn’t blame her. What kind of an asshole dumped his girlfriend in a note? He wasn’t sure what she meant about the naked people, but given what the guy did for a living, he assumed it had something to do with his work.
A quick note. Jeez.
Not only was it beyond cruel to do that to Melanie, it was rude to do to him, too. Hunter was a bodyguard, not a counselor. He’d been in the marines, where the official motto was Always Faithful, and the unofficial ones were Ignore Your Feelings, followed closely by Don’t Talk About It. And yet somehow he found himself in these situations again and again. He was resisting the urge to unclick his own seat belt and bolt. Unfortunately, there was nowhere to go. They were speeding down the runway at that very moment, and as they took off into the air, he put his hand on Melanie’s knee and patted her because he didn’t know what else to do.
He valiantly tried to defuse the situation.
“I guess he wanted to avoid confrontation.” Hunter figured just about every guy had been there a time or two, not wanting a crying woman on their hands. Or worse, a raging one. He certainly had, but that was when he was sixteen, though. Not thirty. Even he, who—by his ex-girlfriend Danielle’s account—was emotionally stunted, was always straightforward with women.
“Avoid confrontation? Do I look confrontational?” she asked, her voice rising higher with each word. “I kept our relationship a secret for a year! I let him travel all over the country without me. I didn’t say anything about the fact that his entire job revolves around seeing women naked!”
She had a point or three, and he’d made it worse. There really was no justification for what Bainbridge had done, because clearly he had planned it at least a week in advance, which was when he’d hired Hunter.
Okay, retreat carefully. Make it clear he was on her side. He knew how to do this. He’d spent his entire childhood negotiating the land mines of his mother’s lousy relationships. “You don’t look confrontational. At all. Personally, I think it’s disrespectful to break up with someone in a note. Only a real dick would do that.”
But she balked. “I wouldn’t say he’s a dick. That seems harsh.”
Proving yet again that no matter what he said, it was always the wrong thing. Why did women contradict everything, even when the guys were agreeing with them? Then wonder why men didn’t want to communicate? He looked at her, unsure how to proceed. “He told me he wasn’t coming, but I thought you knew. I did not know he was going to do this or I wouldn’t have agreed to be the messenger. As far as I’m concerned, what he did to you and what he did to me, essentially making me a party to his dirty work, makes him a dick.”
Her lip trembled. Shit. But then she nodded. “You’re right. He is a dick. I was dating a dick and didn’t even know it. I’m such an idiot.”
Hunter’s face hurt. He was the last person in the world to be giving anyone advice on relationships. Before Danielle he had dated Lynn for four years, but for three and a half of those he’d been deployed to another hemisphere. He had no business doling out advice, but really all Melanie needed was some reassurance she was not in the wrong, which she wasn’t.
“You’re not an idiot. You couldn’t have known he was going to do this. It’s his issue that he’s too wimpy to speak to you face-to-face, not yours.”
And that was all he was going to say about it. He was done with this conversation—stick a fork in him. It made him uncomfortable and reminded him of many nights as a kid watching his mother cry and eat ice cream straight from the container after yet another failed attempt at happily-ever-after. There was no happily-ever-after, end of story. So while he didn’t want to be a dick himself, he wanted Melanie to phone a friend when they got to Mexico and leave him out of it.
He had sworn off relationships himself since Danielle. Before her had been Lynn, and before Lynn there was Allison. All three had left him, and he figured after three strikes, he was out. It wasn’t his game. He was determined that short-term hookups would be his new reality, and if Melanie wanted honest advice, that was what he would tell her. But she wouldn’t. No one wanted to hear his cynical thoughts on love.
She nodded, still sniffling. When she bent over to root around in her bag again, her shirt rode up, exposing the small of her back and the curve of her backside. Hunter cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. The one thing he definitely had not bargained on was finding his client attractive. Melanie was beautiful, even when she was crying. She had delicate features and plump pink lips that lured his thoughts straight into dangerous territory. Her tight jeans and loose-fitting shirt called attention to the fact that she was petite and feminine and curvy in all the right ways.
When he’d taken the assignment, he’d been led to believe Melanie was going alone by choice, and he’d anticipated being treated like an employee. That was fine with him, because it was a job, and he needed the work. But this scenario was far worse, hands down. There was no buffer. No way to remain remote and silent in the background, which was what he preferred. He was stuck making
