Falling for Her Bodyguard--A Clean Romance Read online

  Babysitting? Desk duty wasn’t sounding so bad all of a sudden. “Sir, I don’t—”

  “You don’t what? You don’t think you want to help me keep my niece safe from harm?”

  “No, sir. That’s not what I was going to say.”

  “Good, then it’s settled. I’ve got some unidentified jerk running around Nashville obsessed with her. Yesterday, he vandalized her car. I want to make sure he doesn’t get the chance to lay a hand on her. You start now.”

  Donovan tried to think of something to say that could get him out of this, but there was nothing. Nothing that would change Captain Bonner’s mind. Babysitting someone in relationship trouble was worse than desk duty.

  “Goodness, Walsh! Stand up, walk to your car and go to the address I gave you,” Captain said in a huff.

  Donovan did as he was told.

  He said a silent prayer that she wasn’t in high school. If Donovan had to spend the whole day surrounded by teenagers, he might just quit. Living with one was bad enough.

  “Where you headed, Walsh? Did they put you on administrative leave?” Detective Steven Dillon was Donovan’s partner.

  “Special assignment. I have to go babysit his niece—” he pulled out the piece of paper with her name and address on it “—Kelly. Know anything about her?”

  Dillon’s head fell back as he laughed. “Oh, man. My only words of advice are look but do not touch. Captain will crush anyone who even thinks about having inappropriate thoughts about that woman. Good luck with that.”

  Not a teenager at least. Donovan wasn’t worried about having inappropriate thoughts about anyone. Once his niece and nephew were out of his house, he planned to live the rest of his life very much alone.

  He drove to the apartment building and took note of his surroundings. It was a quiet street. Not a lot of cars. No traffic lights or businesses nearby with cameras, however. The complex was secure but there was no one manning the entrance. He punched in her apartment number in the intercom.

  “Hello?” A voice came through the speaker.

  “Miss Bonner, I’m Detective Walsh. Your uncle sent me. I’m supposed to—” he wasn’t sure she’d take too kindly to him calling it babysitting “—keep you company today.”

  There was no answer and no opening of the door. Donovan buzzed the apartment again.

  “Hang on.” She sounded exasperated.

  She was annoyed? He was the one who had to follow her around doing whatever mundane things she had on her agenda for the day. This could be a bigger nightmare than he imagined.

  A woman on her phone pushed open the door. “I understand you’re trying to protect me, but this is a little extreme don’t you think?” she said as she jogged down the steps and onto the sidewalk. Ending her call, she turned around and glanced up at Donovan. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her eyes were covered by aviator sunglasses. “Well, come on. He’s going to send you to the station regardless of what I have to say about it.”

  This must be the niece. Dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt knotted at her hip, she didn’t give him many clues as to what she might have to do today. Donovan could see why Dillon told him Captain was protective. She was attractive, albeit a tad rude. She stormed ahead before coming to an abrupt stop.

  “I was about to call for a car, but I assume you have one?”

  Donovan moseyed up beside her. “I do. Where are you headed in such a hurry?”

  She took off her sunglasses, revealing the most stunning crystal-blue eyes. “The station,” she said in a flustered tone. “I have a meeting before my show.”

  “Station?” The only station Donovan was aware of was the one he just left.

  Kelly’s head rolled back and she sighed. “He didn’t tell you anything, did he?”

  “I was directed to go where you go, miss. That’s what he told me and that’s what I’ll have to do.”

  “I work at K104, the radio station. I need to get there in the next twenty minutes or my station manager is not going to be happy with me. This would be the same station manager who will hopefully be renewing my contract soon and I really don’t need her to be unhappy. Maybe I can drive? Which car is yours?” She held out her hand as if he might actually consider relinquishing his keys to her. That was not happening. No one drove his truck except him.

  “I’m right over here,” he said, pointing to his black F150 and wishing he had asked for one of the station’s cars. Being on desk duty meant he was only allowed to use his personal vehicle.

  Kelly didn’t follow him. “Since when does the Nashville PD drive around in pickup trucks?” she asked. “Can I see your badge?”

  Donovan grimaced. That was a problem. No gun or badge. “Funny story,” he said, slowly spinning around to face her and the can of pepper spray that was pointed at him.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “STAY WHERE YOU ARE.” Kelly fumbled for her phone. How could she have been so stupid as to not ask for identification? She redialed her uncle. “Tell me your name again,” she demanded from the stranger.

  “Walsh. Detective Walsh.”

  Kelly’s heart was thumping so hard that it was becoming a distraction. Her hand shook so much that she feared she’d trigger the pepper spray before finding out who this guy was for sure. At the same time, she prayed he didn’t attack her before her uncle picked up. “I don’t know any detectives who forget their badge at home.”

  “I didn’t forget it.” He sighed as if she was irritating him. “I can show you the piece of paper your uncle wrote your name and address on.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you, Kelly,” her uncle said when he answered the phone. “I won’t pull him, so get used to it while I hunt your stalker down.”

  “The guy here says his name is Detective Walsh, but he doesn’t have a badge or a cop car. He’s about six-three, has short-cropped brown hair, no facial hair. Built like he could wrestle an alligator and win. He’s wearing navy pants, a pale blue button-down and a green tie. No jacket.”

  With his hands on his hips, her possible stalker stared down at his feet. If he wasn’t who he said he was, he didn’t seem very nervous about a real detective showing up.

  Uncle Hal gave a little chuckle. “That’s my guy, Kell Bell. He is who he says he is. He’s doing this as a favor to me, so he isn’t carrying his badge.”

  Kelly lowered her pepper spray and took a deep breath in hopes her heart would slow down now. “I don’t love this plan, Uncle Hal.”

  “I know, sweetheart. But it’s the only one I’ve got right now. If anything happened to you...”

  Kelly understood he was only doing what he thought best. She was the daughter of police officers. Her dad had been a homicide detective and her mom was a desk sergeant in Knoxville. Growing up, her curfew was earlier than all of her friends’ because her parents couldn’t bear it if anything bad ever happened to her because they knew exactly what kind of bad things could happen.

  “Okay, he says you are who you say you are,” she said as she hung up the phone.

  Detective Walsh acted as if this was how he spent every Wednesday. He unlocked his truck, completely unfazed by what had happened. “Pepper spray is a terrible way to protect yourself, by the way.”

  “It stopped you cold,” she replied, feeling defensive. She’d spent her life trying to prove she could take care of herself and now another cop was telling her that she couldn’t do it.

  “That’s because I had no intent to do you harm. If I had, I could have easily turned your pepper spray against you.”

  Who did this guy think he was? “Oh, really? Well, I wouldn’t have hesitated to spray you in the face, and this stuff will incapacitate anyone.”

  He shook his head and opened the passenger door for her. “First of all, the wind was blowing away from me and toward you. Secondly, pepper spray is not guaranteed to sto
p everyone. If your attacker is drunk or on drugs, he might just get angrier.”

  Kelly climbed in the truck and put her seat belt on, letting his comments sink in. She hadn’t noticed the wind. It couldn’t have been strong enough to blow it back at her, could it? Detective Walsh got in the driver’s seat.

  “And what if that little girl over there was asthmatic or that older lady and her dog walked through the cloud and inhaled it?” he asked. “You could have done serious damage to some innocent people.”

  Kelly hadn’t considered how it could affect anyone other than the attacker. She suddenly had the urge to throw her pepper spray in the garbage. “So, what would you suggest I do to keep myself safe?”

  “Have you ever taken a self-defense class before? Your body is really the best weapon.”

  Her mother had been trying to get her to take one for years, which was probably why she hadn’t. She lived in a safe neighborhood, didn’t run around at night alone and believed people—for the most part—were good. Until yesterday, she had never felt like she needed to protect herself that way. The pepper spray was an emotional impulse buy last night after she dropped her car off at the body shop.

  “I’ll have to look into it.”

  Their drive continued in silence once she gave him the address of the station to put into his phone’s GPS. The quiet unnerved her. Detective Walsh only seemed to speak when he needed to. Kelly, on the other hand, talked for a living. Silence was dead air.

  “I wish I had time to stop for coffee. Everything in my life feels off because of this.” The meeting with Caroline was important and Kelly was so distracted. The impression she wanted to make today was not of some discombobulated airhead. Detective Walsh had nothing to add. He was not helping ease her anxiety in the slightest.

  “So what did you do?” she asked as they came to a stop at a busy intersection. His eyebrows pinched together. She clarified, “To lose your badge and gain the responsibility of babysitting me?”

  His jaw ticked. “Let’s just say I am not a big fan of drug dealers and they aren’t fans of me, either.”

  “Well, I have the opposite problem. I have a fan who thinks he’s in love with me and that I cheated on him with a make-believe boyfriend.”

  The line between his brows reappeared. “He thinks you have a make-believe boyfriend?”

  “No, he thinks I have a real boyfriend who is really a make-believe boyfriend. I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m single. And not dating. Not because I can’t find someone, I just don’t have the time to put into a relationship. My job keeps me busy,” she rambled. Detective Walsh clearly didn’t care if she had a boyfriend or not. “Are you married?”

  He glanced at her for a quick second. “How about we keep the personal business sharing to a minimum?”

  “Right.” Kelly fidgeted with her hands. He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, so chances were he wasn’t married. His brown hair was cut short like they wore in the military. He sure looked a lot like those Navy SEAL guys on the covers of her mom’s old romance novels.

  His phone rang just as they neared the station. The caller ID showed it was a high school calling. Detective Walsh groaned and clicked the phone icon on his steering wheel.

  “Hello?”

  “Mr. Walsh? This is Dean Higgins again. I’m sorry to bother you,” the voice said through the car speakers.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Higgins?”

  “Well, I’m sorry to say I have Graham here in my office.”

  Detective Walsh pinched the bridge of his nose. “What did he do this time?”

  No ring, but he had a kid. Maybe he was divorced. Or didn’t like wearing rings. Either was possible.

  “He decided to skip math class again and we found him vandalizing the library.”

  “I wasn’t vandalizing,” a new voice shouted in the background. “It’s called art. I was improving the overall aesthetics of this dump you call a school. You should be thanking me, not giving me detention.”

  “You’ve surpassed the limit for detentions, young man. Vandalism is a crime. I could have turned this over to the police.”

  “You called him, didn’t you? You just turned it over to the police. Thanks a lot. Now I’m dead.”

  Oh, boy, could Kelly relate to this poor kid. She knew better than anyone the fear associated with a call home from school when your parents were cops.

  “Tell him to stop with the dramatics,” Detective Walsh said, cutting in. “He has no one to blame for this other than himself.”

  “We have a lot of concerns about the acting out Graham has been doing lately. We’ve tried to be understanding and compassionate. I know that things have been hard since his mom—”

  Detective Walsh didn’t let the man finish. “What’s his punishment? In-school suspension? Saturday school? Does he have to pay to clean up the graffiti?”

  “Well, sir, because he not only was truant from class but also vandalized school property, we’re going to issue an out-of-school suspension for the rest of today. We need you to come pick him up.”

  Detective Walsh pulled the car over. “Hang on a second.” He pressed the mute button on his phone. “You good getting out right here?” he asked Kelly.

  She was still a block and a half from the radio station, but who was she to argue with him? It was obvious he needed to handle this situation with his son. “Um, sure.”

  “I’m guessing there are people at work who can watch you until I get back?”

  Kelly felt a burning sensation in her chest. She wasn’t a child. She didn’t need to be watched. “I’ll be fine,” she replied, unlatching her seat belt and getting out of the truck. “You don’t have to come back. I’m sure I’ll survive.”

  “Your uncle gave me orders. I’ll be back.”

  “Sounds like you already have your hands full.”

  Detective Walsh scowled. “I’ll be back.”

  Kelly shut the door and watched him make a quick U-turn. Some bodyguard he turned out to be. Not that she needed one. Once she was inside the station, no one could get to her. She just needed to get inside the station.

  A block and a half never seemed so far. Kelly was suddenly hyperaware of how many people walked along 16th Avenue. Since when did downtown Nashville feel like New York City? Someone rammed his shoulder into hers and didn’t even bother to apologize. Someone else brushed past her in all kinds of a hurry. She clutched the bottle of pepper spray in her pocket. Of course, she’d never be able to use it. What if some innocent person had an asthma attack because she released a cloud of pepper in the middle of this busy sidewalk?

  She entered the building that housed the station and paused in the entryway to catch her breath and slow down her racing heart. She made it. Without her bodyguard. Kelly could do this. She didn’t need anyone to babysit her. As she got on the elevator, she made a mental note to look into some self-defense classes at the gym. Couldn’t hurt to be a bit more prepared.

  “Kelly!” Stan greeted her. “You made it. I heard about what happened yesterday. You okay?”

  “I’m good. My car, on the other hand...”

  “I don’t understand what possesses people to do hateful things,” he said, shaking his head. “We really should get some security cameras in the parking garage.”

  As much as Kelly appreciated Stan’s sympathy, she had a meeting to get to. Caroline Yates, the station manager, would not accept any excuses for being late.

  “I’m actually on my way to talk to Caroline. Maybe I’ll bring that up with her.”

  “Oh, didn’t she call you this morning? She decided last-minute to have you be on location at the opening of the new Great Barbecue over on 4th. They’re a huge sponsor of the show and offered to let us do a remote broadcast. Lyle is already over there setting things up and Travis and Holly have been talking about it all morning.”

  Kelly ha
d to push down the anger that was building at not being given ample warning about this. She couldn’t let it get back to Caroline that she wasn’t up for anything the woman threw at her. If Caroline asked her to jump out of an airplane while juggling flaming bowling pins, she would have to strap on that parachute and give it her best shot.

  She plastered on a smile. “Good thing I skipped breakfast. Sounds like I might get to eat some brisket for lunch.”

  * * *

  IF GRAHAM KNEW what was good for him, he would not say one word on their ride home.

  “I can’t believe they’re dumb enough to send me home for ditching class. Obviously, I didn’t want to be in class. They’re actually giving me exactly what I wanted by suspending me.”

  Apparently, he did not.

  Dressed in his usual jeans and ’90s band T-shirt, the troubled teen flipped down the visor and checked his reflection in the small mirror. He had blond hair and a narrow nose like his mom but green eyes and a strong, wide jaw like his dad. Their oldest was truly a perfect blend of the two of them. Too bad he didn’t act like either of them.

  “I wonder what I have to do to get expelled.”

  Donovan gripped the steering wheel tighter. “You do not want to find out what will happen to you if you get expelled. Trust me on that.”

  “You gonna beat me up like you beat up the other bad guys in this town? Huh, Uncle Donovan?”

  “You’re really working hard to make your mother and father proud, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, well, dead people can’t be proud or disappointed, can they?”

  Donovan couldn’t really argue with the kid about that. He understood Graham was angry at the world for taking both his parents way too early. The fifteen-year-old and his little sister, Avery, had been dealt the worst hand life could deal, but that didn’t give Graham permission to make things worse.

  “Point is, you should want to act in a way that would have made your parents proud,” Donovan said. “I guess we can talk about why you aren’t when we meet with your guidance counselor tomorrow morning. All this posturing and acting out isn’t getting you anywhere.”