Tara straightened and bit her lip, clearly trying hard not to laugh at his predicament. “I can take her, if you want. I could use a minute to freshen up myself, anyway.”
Clint’s first reaction was to decline. It was a nice offer. A perfect one, actually. But he couldn’t ask the woman he’d been hired to protect to help him babysit his daughter. That was unprofessional and Clint was nothing if not a consummate professional. He prided himself on it.
But Ashley kept doing her potty dance and whining about wanting a Slush Puppy, whatever the hell that was, and the next speaker—another client he was supposed to be watching—was getting ready to take the stage, and the guys still hadn’t answered his text and… oh hell with it.
“Okay. Thank you. But I do need to keep an eye on you. Please stay in sight—except for when you’re in the bathroom, of course,” he said to Tara, getting lost for a second in her smile again before coughing to distract himself. Thankfully, the entrance to the ladies room was visible from where he was standing. He could watch the stage and watch the restroom, too. He transferred Ashley’s hand to hers, then handed Tara a twenty-dollar bill. “One slushie thing for her—from a stand where I can see you—then if you could drop her off at the VIP tent with the other guys from my team, that would be great. After that, head back to me, please. That’s it. Keep the change.”
Tara snorted. “Gee, thanks. My first tip.”
Heat prickled Clint’s cheeks. “I didn’t mean…”
She laughed, the musical sound chiming through the air. “It’s fine. Be back in a minute.”
Embarrassed and flustered, both rare occurrences for him, Clint just blinked after them, watching them walk toward the small brick building with the bathrooms while they laughed and whispered to each other like they were best pals or something.
God, he was such a dork, getting all gaga over a woman he had no business having heart-eyes for.
Time to get back to business, bud.
Clint took up his usual at-ease stance while he waited, alternating his attention between the bathroom and the stage while also keeping a general eye on the surroundings, scouting for anyone who looked like they might want to start trouble. This was what he was here to do—not moon over Tara Crumb. He was here to guard her and the other activists. That was all.
The sooner he got his head on straight and remembered that, the better.
Tara and his daughter emerged a short while later and he watched as they stopped at the slushie booth before Tara dropped Ashley off with the guys in the VIP tent. When she returned to his side, Clint did his best not to notice that flowery perfume of Tara’s swirling around him or the sudden tingle of heat when her arm brushed his in the crowd. “Your daughter is a delight.”
“Thanks,” he said, all too aware of her. “The nanny that just quit had other ideas.”
“Is that who that was?” Tara laughed again, the sound heading straight to Clint’s groin. God. What was it about this woman that got under his skin so bad? He shifted his weight and clasped his hands tighter behind his back. “From the way she flounced out of here earlier, I figured she was a debutante or something.”
Clint gave a low snort and squared his shoulders. He liked to keep his private and his professional life separate. It was rare for him to even talk about his private life while he was on the job, but something about her made it all too easy. He shouldn’t be enjoying this woman’s company or her jokes, and yet, he was. Way more than he should. “Thank you for taking Ashley to the bathroom for me. And getting her a slushie.”
“You’re welcome. And she seemed happy as a clam with your friends, but what girl wouldn’t be, with a blue Slush Puppy and two men fawning over her.” Tara grinned up at him, making his heart do a weird little dip. “Plus, she’ll have the best seat in the house for all the performances later.”
In a way, this rally reminded him more of a carnival than a protest. There were food vendors and speakers and later, a couple of folk rock, granola-fed bands were going to play. Not really his style. He preferred rock and metal type music—but considering his kid was here, he supposed he should be glad the offerings were family-friendly.
“Hmm,” Clint grunted. “I appreciate you stepping in like that. I don’t usually let my personal life interfere with my jobs.”
“Yeah. Me neither,” Tara said, staring at the stage, same as him. “Of course, I have no personal life to speak of, so that solves that problem.”
He found that hard to believe. A woman as gorgeous as her must have people lined up to date her. Clint wasn’t much into flirting at all, but she made it easy. “C’mon. I don’t believe that.”
“It’s true.” She raised her chin. “Work takes up all of my time these days. I’m determined to get this state-wide climate change bill enacted while I’m still interim executive director of GGE.”
Right. Clint had studied up on her dossier before this job, same as he had with the other potential targets SSoF were being paid to protect. She was temporary head of Go Green Energy, a regional non-profit that was fighting for legislation to combat climate change. Considering she was only twenty-seven, the fact that she’d been put in charge—even just as an interim director—was pretty damned impressive. She’d taken over the position after the last guy, Howard Steinman, had been killed the previous year. From what Clint read, that investigation was still pending, thus the reason he’d been hired for added security around Tara and the other people most visibly and vocally involved in trying to get this legislation passed. There
