“So you screwed it up, is what you’re telling me.” Dan leaned on the bar, giving me his most disappointed look.

“It was never gonna work, Dan. I couldn’t do that to her.”

“No, you couldn’t, because you’re too stupid to put your laptop somewhere that she wouldn’t find it,” he said bitterly, snapping his towel at an errant fly.

I swirled the drink in front of me, wanting to dive into it.

“Could you have done that to Debbie? Not at the end when you hated each other. When you first met her. Could you do that?”

Dan frowned, deep in thought, then sighed. “Boy, if I could remember what I would’ve done at the beginning, there might not have been an end.”

“You wouldn’t have,” I said firmly, still twirling my drink. Slamming my hands on the bar, I made a decision. “I’m gonna call her.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Dan said, shaking his head. “She’s still pissed. Women don’t let stuff like that go.”

“I just want to explain,” I told him, pulling my phone out of my pocket. “Tell her what really happened.”

“That ain’t gonna make a difference,” Dan told me. “Once a woman gets an idea in her head…”

“Shut up, it’s ringing.” And ringing, and ringing… Voicemail. Frowning, I dialed again. Same thing happened.

“Screening your calls,” Dan said, nodding sagely. “I told you, boy. She’s not fittin’ to talk to you.”

“If she was screening my calls, she’d just cut it off after the first couple rings. It’s gone the whole five. Damn it.”

“Maybe she just doesn’t want to talk. Maybe she threw the phone in a drawer someplace.”

“No, her sister calls her too much for her to do that. She never dodges her sister.”

Dan raised his brows with a little smirk. I glared at him as I listened to the phone ring again. Across the bar, someone chose a song from the jukebox. A local metal band began to play, sparking a memory. That stupid oaf from the club, pinning Paisley to the wall. What if…?

“I gotta go,” I said, tossing a few bills at Dan for my untouched drink.

“She’s not gonna want to see you,” Dan called after me. “Get flowers!”

No time for flowers. I knew in my gut that something was very, very wrong.

After the scene that played out that morning, Paisley should have been stuck to her phone, talking to her sister and her girlfriends and anybody who would listen, telling them what an asshole I was. Any girl I knew would have done the same, and most of the guys too. Hell, look at me. I went straight to Dan. It’s just what people do.

The more I thought about it, the more worried I got. I hit the gas, breaking speed limits without a second thought, blasting through the city to careen into the little suburban oasis. Right, two lefts, and a right. I could see her house in the distance. There were no lights on, not even in the piano room. An anxious knot squeezed my belly, and I hit eighty-five on that quiet little back road.

An unmarked gray van was backing out just a little too fast, and I nearly collided with it as I turned to fly into her driveway. Just as I was moving to slam on the horn, I saw it. A tiny scrap of fabric sticking out from between the back doors. Deep red swirls on a pretty cream, the same dress she had thrown on in a fury that morning. Making the connection wasted valuable seconds, and the van was speeding away by the time I slammed the car into gear.

“Oh no you don’t, you son of a bitch,” I growled.

He was heading up Killdeer. Pulling up my mental map, I found the nearest cross street. I could get there faster than that van could, I was sure of it.

Flipping a U-turn in the middle of the road, I sped in the opposite direction. Down Whooping Crane, up Bluebird, left on Red Crest, and…I nearly collided with the van’s taillights as I blasted onto Killdeer.

Cursing, I kept going straight across. This loop was shorter, and Killdeer had a curvy bit at the bottom there which would slow the van down.

I pushed my engine, redlining as I outpaced the gears, hitting a hundred on the straightaways. Yanking the emergency brake at the last second, I crunched the car to a stop dead across Killdeer. Headlights bore down on me. They weren’t slowing down, and they sure as hell weren’t trying to stop.

I jumped from my car at the last possible second, not giving the van driver time to change direction to hit me. Diving out of the way, I watched as the van collided with my car, smashing it to pieces. The old-school steel body smashed the van’s nose in, sending steam and smoke spiraling from the engine. Adrenaline pumping, I ripped the driver’s door open and yanked him from the van.

“You!” I hissed through my teeth as I pinned him against the side of the van. “Guess you don’t learn, right!”

I smashed him in the face, cutting off whatever pathetic thing he was going to say. Grunting, he swung his big, slow, meaty fist at my face. I dodged easily, hammering his ribs as I ducked under his arm. With a wordless roar, he lunged at me, slamming me to the ground beneath his excessive weight. He was grabbing at my face, poking at my eyes with his thumbs. I saw pure hatred in his expression, and I knew what he was trying to do.

“You sick bastard,” I growled, yanking an arm free to punch his throat. He choked and reflexively drew back, giving me room to work.

A heel to the groin. A fist to the gut. I got him on the ground and instinct hooked up with training to shut off my brain. Pummeling him, I dislocated his jaw and shoulder, felt his ribs bend and snap beneath my knuckles, and blackened his eyes. By the time I paused to catch my breath, he wasn’t fighting back anymore. My heart sank like ice through my boiling blood, and I checked his pulse.

“You’ll live,” I said, as disappointed as I was relieved.

I dragged him to the rear wheel and peeled off my bloody button-up shirt. Ripping it in two, I tied his wrists and ankles. No surprises, not tonight. The back door was locked, so I grabbed the key from the front, my mind filled with images of what I might find on the other side.

Unlocking the back door with hands trembling from rage and adrenaline, I faced the fear. As her dress tore, a muffled scream eased my frantic pulse.

“Hey, Paisley,” I said, out of breath. “Now, I’m not sure what kinds of things you big country stars are into, but this don’t look like songwriting to me.”

I freed her laughter with my knife, cutting away the gag and ropes. She fell into me, her limbs rubbery from the position she’d been held in, and I caught her gratefully. I could be the knight in shining leather. It looked good on me.

Cradling her in my arms, I sat her gently on the curb and sat behind her, bracing her with my legs as I rubbed the life back into her arms.

“Thank you,” she said, almost reluctantly. “We should call the police.”

“One step ahead of you,” I said as I put the phone to my ear. “Hi, yeah, I’m Paisley Abbott’s bodyguard, and I just interrupted a kidnapping. Send some boys to pick up her biggest fan.”

I gave them the location and hung up, watching the lump snore against the van as I held Paisley’s shoulder as platonically as I possibly could. She seemed shaken and a little bit bruised, but not broken. At least not visibly.

“Did he hurt you?” I asked.

“Hit me in the belly. Nothing…” She trailed off into a shudder, and I hugged her close, breathing a relieved sigh.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured into her hair.

“Sorry,” she laughed bitterly. “You know, Bart was sorry too. ‘Sorry, Paisley, but I gotta.’” She shook her head. “I’m glad you were here tonight. I thought I was going to die. But don’t you dare tell me you’re sorry.”

It felt like a vice grip around my heart. “I hate that you compared me to that sack of crap,” I said, continuing quickly before she could reply. “But more than that, I hate that I gave you a reason to. I was never gonna use that tape, Paisley. I couldn’t do it.”

“Never?” she said dubiously. “If you were never gonna use it, it would have never been on your computer.”

“Right,” I sighed. Moving so that I could look her in the eye, I tried to explain. “So… I’m not really a bodyguard. Or… I wasn’t, before you.”

“Oh. Wow. I’m so surprised.” She was deadpan, and it would have been hilarious if my entire future didn’t hinge on it. She stood, shaking her arms and legs out. I did as well, just to level the playing field. I couldn’t confess if she was looking down on me like that.

“You see Bart over there?” I asked nodding my head at him.

“Yeah.”

“He’s in pretty rough shape. It, um… It’s not the first time I got a little too wild in a fight.”

She met my eyes, open and listening. Hope emboldened me, and I talked a little faster.

“His name’s Billy. He’s still in ICU, I think. I used to do MMA fighting, underground stuff with betting and all that, you know…lowbrow stuff you wouldn’t be in to.” A flicker of amusement crossed her face, but I pressed on. “So I’m fighting, and I go too far, and Billy gets hauled off to the hospital. No idea if he’s gonna make it or not. There’s no way I can get back in the ring after that, and fighting’s all I know how to do.”

I pushed my hand through my hair, my throat tightening at the memory. Paisley took half a step toward me, then hugged herself. Keep your distance, darlin’. Just for a minute.

“So I’m looking down a road of possibilities. Billy’s got a wife and two little kids. He’s gonna have a huge hospital bill. If he’s not fighting and I’m not fighting and he’s not working, who’s gonna take care of all of that? So I go to Dan. He’s my bartender, known me for years. Knows my life. I tell him what’s up, and he tells me that he’s got this idea.”

“To sleep with me and make a bunch of money on the sex tape?” she asked flatly.

“Yeah,” I said, shifting uncomfortably. “If I hadn’t been in a bind, it wouldn’t even have been an option for me. I don’t go in like that. I didn’t feel like I had a choice.” I sighed, determined to finish in spite of the look on her face. “So I set it up. Got all prepared and everything. Got it on tape.” My stomach curdled as the words passed my lips.

“And then? That was over a week ago. What’s the countdown, Tyler? When is my life going to fall apart?” She was fire and steel, bracing herself for my answer.

I shook my head. “I never sent the tape, Paisley. As soon as I recorded it, I knew I wasn’t going to use it. I couldn’t do that to you.”

She looked at me sideways, taking a step forward. “Why not?”

I shrugged helplessly. “Because you’re great. I like you. Maybe more than that, I don’t know. I don’t even know what that’s supposed to feel like. All I know is that I’ve never felt more at home than when I’m with you. Never wanted to be with anybody more. Not just in bed—I mean hanging out. Making dinner and washing dishes, and watching you work.”

She wasn’t going to say yes. I knew she wasn’t. But if I gave up in the face of ridiculous odds, I never would have made it as far as I did in the ring. I looked up at her, meeting her suspicious gaze.

“I don’t want to use you, Paisley. Not now, not ever. I don’t want to let anybody else use you, either. I want to protect you.” I looked down at my feet, too much of a wuss to watch her reaction. “I want to be your bodyguard again.”

“Is that all you want?” she asked softly.

Snapping my head up, I watched her soften. A little smile touched the left side of her pretty mouth, and the stars glittered in her eyes.

“No,” I confessed, clearing my throat. “But I don’t deserve what I want.”

“I don’t deserve to have a two-thousand-dollar dress, and I don’t deserve to have it ripped by a psycho stalker. Nobody ever gets what they deserve, Tyler. Tell me what you want.” Her gaze intensified, burning holes into my soul.

“I want to be yours,” I told her, so quietly I thought she wouldn’t hear. “If you can forgive me. I want to make this—us…real.”

“How real?” She took another step toward me, standing close enough now that I could breathe in the scent of her hair.

“As real as you want it to be,” I said as my thundering pulse vibrated my body. “I want to stay with you for as long as I’m good for you. If… If you’ll let me.”

I could see my own face reflected in her eyes. Even tiny and upside down, I could see the vulnerability etched into my expression. It felt appropriate, but it sure as hell didn’t feel good.