Bodyguard Reunion. Margaret Daley
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I’ve given her a proposal to consider.”
She pushed off the counter. “What kind?” Wariness entered her voice.
“I have a lot of contacts for potential personnel and clients from my years working in the Secret Service. I’d buy into the business, and we would expand, hiring male bodyguards to complement the female ones already working for Guardians, Inc. I’ll take over some duties from her. I think she wants to have more time with her family.” T.J. swallowed some more of his drink, relishing it. She made a good cup of coffee.
“So you’d become my boss?” Her forehead crinkled; her mouth pinched into a frown.
“Yes. Can you work for me?”
Chloe tilted her head to the side, her gaze fastened on him as if studying him. “I don’t know if I can. Working on a case with you is one thing. We’ve got a past—one serious enough that you wanted me to follow you to Washington and I asked you to stay in Dallas. You didn’t. You made your choice.”
“I’d been working for that promotion for five years. I thought when your mother was better, you’d come. I asked you to. Why didn’t you?”
“I wanted to be more important to a man than a job. It’s the past. I don’t want to go through this again. No good will come of it.”
“So we’ll put the past in the past as you said and proceed forward?”
She nodded, stepping away from him.
“That’s all I need to know.” He finished the last few sips of his coffee.
“What made you quit the Secret Service? Nine years ago it was obvious your life revolved around your job.” Tension threaded through each word.
“Probably the same reason you quit the police department. I needed a change.” He busied himself pouring another cup of coffee. He couldn’t tell her about the government figure he’d protected while the man had had an affair. After a while, he hadn’t been able to look away as if nothing was wrong. He believed in marriage and wanted to get married only once in his life. When his respect for the man had plummeted, he’d realized that it was time for him to seek employment elsewhere.
“When you feel up to telling me the whole story, I’m willing to listen.” Her expression neutral, she passed him and headed toward the dining room. “I’ll do a walk-through, then go up to the bedroom across from the Zimmermans. Wake me in four hours.”
He watched her leave, then turned off the light and positioned himself at the bay window in the breakfast nook. Stepping close, he cracked the blinds open to survey the area outside. With all the security lights on, there were still pockets of shadows that could conceal a person from the patio to the wooden fence that surrounded the half-acre backyard. He had a bad feeling about this house. Good thing they were moving to San Antonio soon. He had a better place in mind for the Zimmermans to stay there, and the fewer people who knew the couple’s plans, the better to keep them safe during their off hours.
Now all he and Chloe needed to do was get the Zimmermans to San Antonio safely.
* * *
Before falling into bed, Chloe walked toward the window at one end of the upstairs hallway. She tried to dismiss the conversation she’d had with T.J. She couldn’t. When her mother had gone into remission, she’d actually considered resigning from the police force and going to Washington, D.C., to be with T.J.
But as she’d taken care of her mom, she’d seen the sadness and hurt she had held inside for years. While her mother had struggled with her battle with cancer, she had shared her disappointment in her marriage to a captain in the navy, who had been at sea for half their marriage, and how alone she’d felt for years. She hadn’t wanted to end up like her mother—married to a man married to his job. She’d never contacted T.J. and refused his calls. She wouldn’t settle for anything but what she deserved—a man who totally loved her and put her first rather than a career. She wasn’t sure about T.J.’s true feelings. He’d left because of his career—like her father.
Chloe approached the window, keeping the overhead light off so she could see better when she looked out. The security lamp on this side of the house illuminated every crevice. She made her way to the other end and studied the terrain more carefully because the soft glow didn’t cover every patch of ground. She started to turn away and go to bed when a movement out of the corner of her eye seized her full attention.
Someone was out there.
THREE
Chloe whirled away from the hallway window and ran to the stairs. As she descended, she drew her gun. “T.J., we’ve got a visitor.” She shouted the words and raced for the alarm system to turn it off so she could go outside.
“Where?” T.J. rushed into the foyer, his weapon in his hand.
“Right side of house.” Heart pounding, she punched in the off code, then hurried toward the front door at the same time he did. “I’ll check outside. You stay in here and guard the Zimmermans.” She reached for the handle first.
Her comment stopped him. He let his arm drop back to his side, a frown slashing his face. “I’m bigger. More capable of stopping an assailant.”
“We’re not going to get into an arm-wrestling match right now. I won’t jump the person.” She pulled open the door, narrowing her gaze on him. “I’m using my gun.”
He charged out the entrance. “So am I. Lock the door, turn on the alarm and call the police.”
Short of tackling him and knocking him out, Chloe had no other choice but to do as he said. But when this was over with, he would hear from her. She didn’t need protecting, too.
She flipped the lock in place, then stabbed in the code to turn the alarm back on. Anger and frustration surged through her veins. Pushing those emotions down, she called her detective friend.
“You wanted to know if anything unusual happens. T.J. is outside trying to apprehend an intruder.” She gave him the address.
“On my way.”
As she hung up, she hurried up the stairs to check on the Zimmermans and let them know what was happening. When she knocked on their bedroom door, no one called out or let her in. She heard something hit the floor and reached for the knob.
* * *
Gun drawn and up, T.J. crept around the right side of the house, his full concentration on protecting his client. A picture of Chloe’s furious face taunted his attention for a couple of seconds until he shoved it away. He’d deal with her anger later. His first priority was keeping everyone safe, including Chloe, whether she liked it or not.
A dog barked in the still of night—probably two or three houses away. His nerves taut, T.J. rounded the corner, ready to duck if shot at. He searched the shadows. Something moved beside a holly bush against the eight-foot fence. A man darted out from behind the foliage and ran toward the backyard.
T.J. gave chase, his strides lengthening. The intruder headed for the rear of the property, glancing over his shoulder at T.J., then sprinting faster.
T.J. increased his speed, cutting the distance between them. He catalogued the man’s build—over six-and-a-half feet tall, slim, gangly, his limbs disproportionate to the rest of him, reminding T.J. of an octopus.
The intruder lunged for the top of the fence, trying to hoist himself over it. T.J. leaped toward him and grabbed his legs as the man dangled half on this side of the property. T.J. yanked hard and the trespasser fell into him, sending them both crashing backward. T.J. hit the ground first with the intruder landing on top of him.
The air swooshed from T.J.’s lungs. His head bounced against the ground, causing the world to spin before his eyes. The hard impact wrenched the gun from his hand, and his Glock flew across the grass.
The man rolled off T.J. Scrambling for his weapon, T.J. drew in a breath.