The Bodyguard and Ms. Jones (14 page)

BOOK: The Bodyguard and Ms. Jones
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“Will you pretend to be my girlfriend?”

Chapter Eight

C
indy parked in front of the mall. The two-story structure was all gleaming glass, with lush plants around the entrance and throughout the parking lot.

Mike eyed the building with distaste. Spending the afternoon shopping wasn't his idea of a good time, but Cindy had convinced him it was the quickest way to get the message out. According to her, everyone eventually ended up at the mall. He hoped those who spread rumors had decided to visit today.

He opened the passenger door and stepped out into the noon heat. It had rained the previous day and the humidity was unbearable. He'd worked in high temperatures before, but nothing like this. It might only be in the low nineties, but with the moisture in the air, he felt as if he were slowly being steamed alive, like a piece of broccoli.

“Can we go to the movies?” Allison asked as she scrambled from the back seat.

Cindy waited until all the doors were closed, then hit the alarm button on her key chain. The minivan chirped twice then was silent. “That's a good idea,” she said.

“Not some dopey cartoon,” Jonathan said. “Please, Mom, can we see that new action movie?”

Cindy brushed Jonathan's blond hair out of his eyes. “It's rated for adults only, so you know the answer to that, don't you?”

Jonathan turned to Mike. “Mike, you explain it to her. Sometimes it's important for a guy to do stuff, you know, like a man. Women don't understand that.”

Mike stared at the kid. He was nine years old. Where did he hear that kind of talk? He grinned at the boy. “Mothers rule the world, kid. The sooner you learn that, the easier life will be.”

“Ah, Mike.” Jonathan scuffed his toe into the steamy blacktop.

Cindy leaned toward her son and got him in a headlock. “I am your leader,” she said, spacing the words out evenly and trying to sound like a machine. “You will obey me, or I will turn you into a toad.”

Jonathan laughed up at her. The boy might look like his father, but he had his mother's good humor. “Ribit.” They were still giggling when they reached the mall.

Mike held open the door. Allison skipped inside, followed by her brother. Cindy paused and glanced at Mike. “You can change your mind,” she said.

“You're the one doing me a favor. If you want to back out, I'll understand.”

She shook her head. “I've already agreed. If nothing else, it will be worth it to see the look on everyone's faces.” Her green eyes danced with excitement.

A couple of days ago, those same eyes had widened with shock when he'd suggested she pose as his girlfriend to protect him. He'd been sort of shocked himself that he'd even asked. He hadn't planned it, but once he'd said the words, they made perfect sense. He hadn't expected Cindy to go along with it. After all, there wasn't anything in it for her. Much to his surprise, she had quickly agreed to the masquerade.

“You never told me why you're doing it,” he said, waiting for her to precede him into the building.

She stepped inside and he followed her. “Number one, I owe Grace,” she said, ticking off the reasons on her fingers. “Two, sometimes divorced women are treated as if they are invisible. I want to remind a few people that I'm still alive and well. Three, Nelson might find out and after what he's put me through, he deserves it. And four...” She smiled at him. Her dimple deepened. “I feel sorry for you. If you could have seen the panic in your eyes.”

“Oh, gee, thanks. My ego needed a boost.” With that, he put his arm around her.

Cindy stiffened. Her smile faded and she stared at him as if she'd never seen him before.

“Cindy?”

He started to lift his arm away. She blinked, then laughed and moved closer to him. “Momentary brain lapse. I forgot what we were doing here.”

“But we were just talking about it.”

“Talking and doing are not the same thing.” A flush of color stained her cheeks. She gave him a tight smile, then glanced around. “Allison, Jonathan, you two stay within sight of us, remember?”

A chorus of “Yes, Mom” drifted back to them. Cindy turned to her right. Mike kept his arm around her and adjusted his limping stride to her shorter steps.

The interior of the mall was bright and open, with lush plants growing out of huge pots on the floor and hanging from beams in the glass ceiling. Most of the shoppers were women with children. About one out of two had strollers. Children were everywhere. Young kids running to store-window displays, then back to their mothers, teenagers collecting in groups and talking, babies sleeping or crying. Mike felt as if he were in some zoo specifically designed to study the raising of human young.

They'd gone along the bottom level a ways when he tightened his hold on Cindy's shoulders. “Just a minute. I want to look at the mall map.”

“It's not necessary. We know our way around.”

“I insist.” He paused in front of the color-coded map and quickly got his bearings.

“Mike, I swear to you, we've been in every store. I could find my way around here blindfolded.”

He released her and looked at the anchor stores. “I want to minimize our exposure. Tell me where we're going so I can plot our route.”

His request was met with silence. He turned toward her. Allison and Jonathan were playing on a bench behind her. Mike didn't know the nature of the game, but it required them to circle the wooden seat, with a quick climb over the back every third or fourth trip.

She tilted her head. “Exposure to what?”

Danger. Undesirable elements. He looked around at the women shopping and their children. Not much danger here. Feeling slightly foolish, he shoved his hands into his shorts pockets. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

“You might do better if you pretended to be enjoying yourself,” she said. “You know, relax a little. Laugh, shop. You ever spend an hour just window-shopping?”

“Can't say that I have.”

“It's an art form,” she told him. “I'll try to teach it to you, but you have to give yourself up to the experience.” She moved close and slipped her arm through his. Her skin was smooth and warm. He told himself the gesture was just part of the act, but she did it so easily, so unconsciously, he wanted to believe it was real.

Not real smart, Blackburne, he told himself. This situation was temporary. Cindy was helping him out of a rough spot, nothing more.

She leaned closer. Her left breast brushed against his upper arm. He felt the jolt clear to his groin and had to bite back a groan. “It would help if you tried to have a good time,” she whispered.

“I'll try,” he told her, then wondered how long it had been since he'd had fun just doing nothing. He'd been working nonstop for about three years. Before that—he shrugged. It was a lifetime ago. He didn't want to think about the past or the future. There was only today and the feel of Cindy so close to him.

They strolled down to the movie theater and had a lively debate over which show to see. Allison wanted to see a rerelease of a classic and Cindy agreed. Mike didn't care, so Jonathan was outvoted. He took it well, grumbling for a few minutes, then playing tag with Allison among the potted plants.

They walked slowly to the far end of the mall.

“How's your leg?” Cindy asked.

“Not bad. I eased up on the workout yesterday. Grace has a big Jacuzzi tub in her bathroom, and I've been using that every night. It helps.”

“Let me know if you need the bandage changed.”

The thought of her hands on his bare skin made him wish he was still bleeding. “I don't really need the bandage anymore. I'm just wearing it until the exit wound heals a little more. I don't want to gross everyone out.”

“It's not that bad.”

“You're used to it. I've seen the women around here checking out my leg.”

She looked at him and raised her eyebrows. “Mike, they're not looking at your wound.”

He didn't know what to say to that. Even worse, he could feel a faint heat on his cheeks. Hell, he hadn't blushed in years. “Yeah, well, I figure I can take off the bandage in a week or so.”

“We'll have a coming-out party,” she teased.

“Mommy, Mommy, look!” Allison stood in front of The Disney Store pointing to an animated display. The little girl had her nose plastered against the window. “Look, Mickey's waving.” She waved back. “Hi, Mickey.”

“I didn't know they had stores like this,” Mike said.

“Everywhere. It's wonderful. They make buying for birthday parties very simple.”

He felt a slight tugging on his free hand. Allison was pulling on him. “Come see, Mike. There's bookends I'm going to ask Santa for.”

Cindy released him and he allowed the little girl to lead him into the store. In the front were racks of clothing—T-shirts, sweats, nightgowns, along with hats, ties and some odd-looking slippers. Halfway back, two large glass cases lined the walls. In between them were display shelves. Allison stopped in front of one and pointed.

“There,” she said reverently.

The ceramic bookends were in two pieces. The right one showed Winnie the Pooh being pulled out of a hole by Christopher Robin. The left bookend was Pooh's back half, being pushed through the hole by Rabbit and Piglet and all Pooh's friends. The detail in the piece was amazing. Mike half expected the creatures to bounce to life.

“I didn't see them before my birthday,” Allison told him, “so I'm going to ask Santa to bring them.” She looked at him. “Do you think elves know how to make bookends?” she asked earnestly.

“Of course.”

“Good.” She smiled and curled her small hand around his. “Come see the stuffed animals.” She pulled him to the back of the store and introduced him to all the creatures there. He hugged the ones she instructed him to, then spoke to a couple of others. She giggled when he snarled at the evil wizard doll.

The sound of her laughter was as welcome as desert rain. He liked Allison's being happy. It seemed to him in the last week or so, she'd started letting go of her imaginary friend.

“Where's Shelby?” he asked.

“She wanted to stay home,” Allison answered easily. “Look, here's Pumba. He's a warthog.”

By the time Cindy rescued him, he was well versed in the different characters. “Ask me anything,” he said as they left the store. “I can recite plot lines, name characters and their offspring.”

“You're very patient. I really appreciate that, and so do the children.”

He shrugged. “It's no big deal. They're fun to be with.” You're fun to be with, too, but he didn't say that. It would add a complication neither of them wanted.

“Mom, there's Kaleb and Brett. I want to go talk to them.” Jonathan practically danced in place.

“Go,” Cindy said. “But don't leave that spot.”

She headed toward a bench in the shade of a large tree. When she sat down, Allison settled next to her and Mike took her other side. He put his arm around her. Just for show, he told himself, even as he noticed how well they fit together.

Cindy sighed. “I could live at the mall. Everything is new and clean. There's food so I wouldn't have to cook, movies and video games for the children and all the books I could possibly read.”

Her hair brushed against his arm. He fingered a strand, noticing the softness and the way it felt against his skin. Without closing his eyes, he could imagine her straddling him, her head bent low as she—

“Mike, these are my friends, Kaleb and Brett.” Jonathan grinned. “This is Mike. He's a bodyguard. He's been staying with us because he was shot, but he's getting better now.”

Mike nodded at the two boys gaping at him. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah,” the larger of the two said. “You really a bodyguard?”

“That's right.”

“You ever shoot anybody?”

“Yes, but only to protect a client.”

“Wow, cool.”

“Leave Mike alone,” Cindy said. “He's resting.” She dug in her purse and pulled out a handful of singles. “Go get an ice-cream cone.” She looked at Mike. “You want one?”

He shook his head.

Allison jumped off the bench. “I want strawberry.”

“I know, honey. Just tell the man.” She indicated an ice-cream cart about fifteen feet away, across the open area. The four children made a mad dash to be first in line. Kaleb won, but he quickly relinquished his spot to Allison.

“Peace at last,” she said, leaning her head against his arm. Her eyes closed. “Tell me if they start to leave the area, please.”

“I doubt they will. They're good kids.”

“Thanks. I work at it. Although right now, all I want is to take a nap.”

“Then I probably shouldn't tell you that Mary and Christina from the barbecue are heading this way.”

Cindy straightened and her eyes snapped opened. “Where?” She followed where he pointed and sucked in a breath. The two women were standing in front of a shoe store studying a display. “They haven't seen us yet, but as soon as they do...” She angled toward him. “This is your big chance, Mike. Make it good.”

From the tilt of her head, she was expecting a quick kiss on the cheek. He thought he'd cured her of that the last time they'd kissed. He touched his finger to her chin and turned her slightly, then bent forward and brushed his lips against hers.

Even as he reminded himself that they were in the middle of a mall and her children would probably see this, he had to fight the urge to deepen the kiss. Her lips were as warm and yielding as he remembered. He was instantly aroused. The situation wasn't helped by Cindy putting her hand on his upper arm and holding on as if she were in danger of blowing away.

He allowed himself to brush his tongue across her lower lip, then he pulled back. Her eyes were unfocused, her face flushed. “Good enough?”

BOOK: The Bodyguard and Ms. Jones
8.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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