I trusted him. My instincts told me he would do a good job even though our first encounter wasn’t ideal.
The doorbell rang and I stood, knowing it had to be Mom. She’d called earlier and said she wanted to stop by to meet the new bodyguard. I think she wanted to make sure everything was on the up-and-up. For some odd reason, she didn’t care for Robert and worried this was his way of controlling my schedule. I’d told her that Robert would have nothing to do with my schedule, and he was doing this as a huge favor to me.
I was frustrated that she saw him in a negative light after all this time. I wasn’t interested in him romantically, but he was there for me, and I counted him as a dear friend. She’d picked up on his interest in me, and it bothered her that he was fifteen years older. He wasn’t the type of man she envisioned me with. She’d loved Daniel, and I doubted anyone else would ever measure up to him in her eyes. Honestly, I felt the same way so I couldn’t blame her.
I think she feared I would end up in a relationship with Robert because he was always hanging around, but that would never happen. She didn’t need to worry.
“I’ll answer the door,” Troy said, rising to his feet.
“Oh, right. You are my bodyguard,” I said, in a teasing voice.
He flashed a smile that went straight to my gut. Oh, man, why did he have to be so good-looking?
He opened the door, and I heard Mom gasp. “And who might you be?”
I ducked my face into my palm and laughed. Did she have to be so obvious? My mother was an amazing woman, but she had one weakness. She’d never been able to hide her opinion of someone, good or bad. That little gasp out there was indicative of her approval. I knew her so well.
“Name’s Troy Littman. I’ve been assigned to protect your daughter.” His deep voice sent goosebumps up my arms and tingles all over. He opened the door wider and gestured for her to come in.
“Thank you.” She walked into the room and made eye contact with me right away, an enormous smile on her face. She winked when Troy turned his back, and I stifled a giggle. She glanced at the coffee table and then at me, a crease forming at her brow. I knew what was coming. “You didn’t offer Troy anything to eat or drink?”
Mom was an amazing hostess, and anyone who came to our home when I was growing up received a slice of banana bread or whatever treat she had on hand, always homemade.
I turned to Troy with a guilty smile. “Forgive my manners. I was so wrapped up in what we were discussing that I forgot to offer you something to drink. What can I get you? Water? Iced tea?”
“Water is fine,” he said, glancing perceptively between me and my mother.
The previous night I’d made cookies, so I went to the kitchen and pulled two from a cookie jar.
“So, tell me, Mr. Littman,” Mom crooned. She was seated next to him on the couch, one hand placed delicately underneath her chin. “Are you married?”
My face heated at her candor as I leaned against the kitchen counter, still holding the cookies. She certainly hadn’t wasted time asking that question. I tried to catch her eye, but she wasn’t looking my way.
Since it was easy enough to see Troy wasn’t wearing a wedding ring—I’d taken note of that myself—I could only guess her question was meant to spark a conversation on the topic.
“No, I’m not married,” he said, shrugging, and he didn’t seem uncomfortable with the question.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“Mom! That’s none of our business.” Mortified, I froze, wishing I hadn’t invited her to come by. The last thing I needed was a meddling mother trying to set me up with my own bodyguard. What must he think of us?
“Oh, honey, I’m just making conversation.” Mom glanced at me and smiled, but she was dangerously close to sharing her true motives in front of this man.
“It’s fine,” Troy said, unperturbed. “I’m not seeing anyone. I don’t have time for that these days.”
“Oh? Why not?” Mom asked.
Sighing, I put the cookies on a plate and filled a glass with purified water from the refrigerator. Her question annoyed me, but I still wanted to hear his answer.
“I just got a promotion heading up the new division of Bad Boy Bodyguards.” He glanced at me with a wary look. “After I finish this job.”
Mom clapped her hands together with glee. “That’s wonderful. Your parents must be so proud.”
He flinched and then quickly composed his features. It happened so fast I doubted Mom caught it, but I did, and it made me think his relationship with his parents might be strained.
“They’re happy, yes.” He glanced down with a blank expression.
I brought the water and plate of cookies and set them in front of him on the coffee table. “Hope you’re in the mood for a snack.”
“Thank you, that sounds good.” He picked one up and took a bite, and Mom and I jointly held our breath, waiting for his response. He made a sound in the back of his throat. “Delicious. How did you know peanut butter cookies are my favorite?”
“I didn’t. I made them yesterday because they’re my favorite.”
He laughed. “Look at that. We have something in common.”
I grinned. “Who would have thought?”
He cocked his head to the side, his strong jaw working as he chewed. “Should have known though. You like things extra sweet. Makes sense that you’d have cookies lying around.” He took
