Stella

Oh fuck.

Not good. Not good.

I am so screwed.

My new bodyguard is …

I’m unable to even think of the right words to describe him.

Mouth watering?

I laugh to myself.

I couldn’t come up with something more original and less lame than that?

Sexy. Masculine. Dominating.

Unfortunately, all humans with a penis are off limits to me right now.

Hudson is built, muscles aplenty, but not like the men who spend forty hours a week lifting weights at the gym to score the perfect six-pack for their next Instagram post. He’s sturdy – giving off the tough demeanor effortlessly.

Someone would be bat shit crazy to mess with him, which is exactly what I need in a bodyguard. He’s taller than Dallas, around six five, I’m guessing. His ash brown hair is short in the front and buzzed on the sides. A military cut. He didn’t dress up for the occasion–wearing a pair of old jeans complete with worn holes, a white tee, and beat-up boots.

We’ve yet to have an actual conversation, but I already feel safe with him.

The downside is that I’m certain he’s not my biggest fan. The grimace on his face tells me he’d rather be anywhere but here. I’m obviously not his dream boss. So in return, I’m giving him what he’s giving me–an aloof smile, my head held high, and not much more conversation.

Dallas has told me plenty about Hudson. He’s a small town boy who’s spent the last eight years serving our country. He isn’t into the whole Hollywood buzz and has called his brother a dumbass for working for me countless times.

He must’ve been desperate to take this job.

I wave goodbye to Jim, and Hudson joins Willow and me in the dining room. We get straight down to business as soon as we take our seats.

“Willow will keep you up to speed on my schedule,” I inform him.

As if on cue, Willow hands him a folder and starts to explain everything. “All of the information you’ll need is in here. Contact numbers and emails. A blueprint of the house, details of where you’ll be traveling, as well as the hotels you’re staying at.”

She keeps going while Hudson listens, nodding his head silently.

“How long have you been in the bodyguard business?” she asks. “I noticed Dallas didn’t list any references. He actually didn’t give me any information on you other than the fact that you’re his brother.”

“First time,” he answers, his voice rough.

“What?” Willow cries out.

She looks over at me in shock. I knew I’d get this reaction, which is why I never shared that tidbit of information with her. Unlike her and everyone else, I trust Dallas’ word.

Her attention goes back to Hudson. “So you’ve never worked in this field before?”

I suck in a breath when he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, and not looking phased at Willow’s concern whatsoever.

“I haven’t been a bodyguard, but I do have the experience of fighting for my country, providing security at embassies, and putting my life on the line every day for the safety of others,” he says. “I think that should be enough training for this job. I pay attention to every movement around me, and my mind is always on the job. Always. And if it makes you feel better, I’m only here until you find someone more qualified to replace me.”

We both stare at him stunned and speechless.

Holy fucking hotness.

That’s a damn good answer.

* * *

“He’s cute,” Willow says when we’re alone in my bedroom.

We showed Hudson his room and left him to unpack his bag … and hopefully take a happy pill to get out of his cranky mood.

She holds up a finger. “Correction. He’s not cute. Cute is how you describe a three-year-old freckled kid. That guy is a whole lot of man hotness. All man hotness.”

Willow isn’t only my assistant, she’s also my best friend. I can count on her more than anyone. She always has my back and won’t bullshit me when she thinks I’m doing something stupid. Frankly, she doesn’t kiss my ass like most people do.

I narrow my eyes at her. “Don’t go there.”

“It’s time to move on from that douchebag.”

“I have moved on from Knox. When I found out he bought a new house and moved that pink-haired chick in, it was my reality check. My final dose of get the fuck over it. He and I knew we weren’t meant to be together but were too comfortable with each other to actually cut the cord. He isn’t the reason I’m saying don’t go there. My situation is. I can’t fuck around with my security guard. You know mixing business with pleasure is a big no-no in my book. Not to mention, the dude looks like he can’t even stand the sight of me.”

She climbs onto my bed and sits across from me. “True, I’m not sure what’s up his ass, either, but maybe he’ll warm up. Just because he works for you doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun.” She wiggles her shoulders back and forth. “You need to get laid before cobwebs start forming down there. Lack of dick is also making you very irritable. Get some dick. Grow a smile. Just like he said he does his job, I’m sure he gives one-hundred percent in the bedroom.”

I throw my head back to stop myself from laughing. “Why am I friends with you again?”

She pumps her hand into the air. “Because I’m Team Get Stella Laid.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. Last I heard from Dallas, Hudson is engaged to some long-time girlfriend. They all meet their wives in like third grade around there.”

She frowns. “Well, if you can’t get a piece of him, we need to find you someone else.”

“Reality check. Getting laid in my situation is not only doubtful but stupid.”

She gives me an annoyed glare. “You can bitch about it all you want, but I don’t feel sorry for you. I told you not to do it.”

We’ve gone round and round about this.

“It was the best move for my future. My career triumphs relationships and sex. I won’t walk through my door one night and find my career sticking his cock into another chick.”

She rolls her green eyes. “Oh please, you’ll always have plenty of work. You’ve been famous for years because of your acting, your damn talent. Don’t let them assholes tell you otherwise.”

“It’s a big deal migrating from television to movies. I want to be taken seriously and for people to see me beyond being Clementine.”

Clementine Storms was the character I played on my show. She was a geeky girl who found out she was a witch and spent her time experimenting and fucking up every spell and potion she tried.

She snorts. “People aren’t going to take you seriously if word gets out what you’re doing. You’ll be the joke of showbiz. They’ll sever all respect, resulting in you becoming desperate and taking bad roles on the Lifetime channel where your husband plots to kill you.”

I scowl. “I’ll take my chances.”

She’s right. It’ll demolish any credibility I have, which was why I refused at first, but eventually, they broke me down, telling me it was best for my career. I question myself daily on whether I made the right decision since the moment I said yes.

* * *

“Can I ask you something?” Hudson asks.

Willow went home twenty minutes ago, so it’s only the two of us now. I just finished giving him the full tour of the house–showing him where the security room is, the placement of all the cameras, and how he has screens in his room as well.

He stayed quiet while filling out his paperwork and signing all of the non-disclosures. I thought maybe he’d open up when she left, but he’s still giving me the cold shoulder.

He’s more intense than his brother. With Dallas, I immediately felt comfortable. He cracked jokes, shared stories about his family, and was an open book. Hudson is distant, glowering, and humorless. He’s locked up with what seems like no key.

“Shoot,” I answer. It’s about damn time he seemed interested in something.

He runs his hand through his hair. “I should’ve asked this earlier.” He pauses and looks around. “What exactly are my duties here? What do I do all day?”

“Like Willow said, be prepared to spend time with me, a lot of time with me. You’ll accompany me everywhere I go. You’ll also travel with me and stay here when I’m home.”

His face shifts into a more guarded expression with my last statement. I can tell Dallas failed to inform him on that tidbit of information.

I shrug. “I like to feel safe.”

“I’ll do my best to keep you that way.” He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms. “Have you ever had any situations?”

“Stalker wise?”

He nods.

“Yeah, a few. Most of them were with my old bodyguard. It became less frequent when I hired your brother. He did a good job of scaring the creeps off. Luckily, they never made it close enough to do any damage.”

I’m not sure if his brother told him everything about what this job entails. I’ve been stalked, harassed, and even sent death threats. I do what I love, but that doesn’t mean it’s always safe.