I watched Erin closely while we were eating. The good mood she’d been in when we were at the range was gone. I should’ve been happy she was no longer smiling and joking around. That Erin was hard to resist. Who the fuck was I kidding? The snappy and irritated Erin was just as hard. I don’t know what the hell Tom Anderson was thinking leaving me unattended with his daughter after I’d told him she’d come onto me. Actually, I did know what he thought, he expected me to do my job and keep her safe and happy. It was the happy part I failed at, but at least when this was over, I’d return her in one piece. And just as pure.

“Who taught you how to cook?”

“My mom.”

“She taught you well. Everything is delicious.”

“Thanks.”

The conversation continued to be strained through the rest of the meal. I asked her questions, and she kept her answers as succinct as possible. Her disinterest wasn’t hard to miss. When I offered to clean the kitchen, she couldn’t get away from me fast enough, going into the other room to watch TV. Again, this should’ve made me extremely happy, instead it was a kick to the gut. I didn’t want her being so uncomfortable she couldn’t stand being in the same room as me. With the dinner dishes cleaned and the counters wiped down I joined her on the couch.

She was mindlessly flipping through the channels. I couldn’t take it anymore. I hated seeing her so miserable.

“I think you owe me a thirty-minute shoulder rub.”

I lowered myself to the floor and pushed my way between her legs, sitting with my back to her.

“I believe it was five minutes.”

“It was. But we shot five more targets after that, and I won each time.”

I was pushing her buttons on purpose. I’d much rather see her full of piss and vinegar than forlorn and beaten down.

“Yeah. That’s not how it works, friend.”

“Friend? Is that what we are, Erin, friends?”

“Turn of phrase, smartass.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Are we friends?”

“No. You’re my bodyguard. You’ve made it clear that’s all you are.”

“I’d like us to be friends.”

Erin rested her hands on my shoulders, and my cock twitched. Yes, the simple touch made me react like a horny teenage boy. It was inexplicable and in no way should’ve happened, but my body was well aware of hers.

“Friends, huh?” Her grip tightened to near pain as she dug her thumbs into my shoulder blades, causing me to wince.

“Yep.”

“So, what, like, you wanna gossip about past boyfriends?” She purposely clutched harder and gave up all pretense of an actual shoulder massage. “You wanna exchange stories about growing up, dreams, plans for the future?”

She was goading me, and I wasn’t going to bite. She was shit out of luck, if she thought being a bitch was going to stop me.

“Why don’t you tell me how you got into 4-H shooting?”

The shoulder rub was forgotten and her hands stilled. “What?”

“4-H? You were state champion, right?”

“You knew? Before we went to the range and you asked me if I’d ever shot a gun, you already knew I had.”

“Yep.”

Okay, so I was being a bit of a dick.

“What else do you know about me?”

“I think the better question is what don’t I know about you.”

“That’s right, I forgot, there is a nice little dossier on me. A neat and tidy record of my life for anyone to peruse. I mean, why bother asking me anything? Just read the White House file on Erin Anderson and you’ll know everything you need to know.”

“Not everything, Erin. The file may list the facts and highlight your accomplishments but it says nothing about the woman you are.”

“Accomplishments? I haven’t accomplished anything.”

I didn’t like that she thought so little of herself. I’d studied her life inside and out and was impressed at what I’d found out about her. She was extremely giving of herself and her time. She was on the board of several charities and volunteered countless hours. I had to admit I’d judged her harshly before I knew her. I still thought she had issues with people telling her no, but maybe there was more to her rebellion than simple overindulgence.

“Who was the man in the guesthouse?”

“Willy?”

“Yes. William Shradder.”

“If you already knew his name, why are you asking me who he is?”

“I want to know who he is to you.”

“He’s a friend.”

“You get naked in front of all your friends?”

Simply thinking about that night infuriated me.

“No!”

“So? He gets special perks?”

“Don’t be an asshole, Colin. Why do you care anyway?”

There was the million-dollar question. Why did I have a personal interest in who Erin got naked in front of? Why had I thought about William Shradder more than I cared to admit?

“I just do.”

“Not good enough. If you want to be friends and you want me to answer your questions, I expect honest answers from you, too.”

Well, damn, Erin had no problem calling me out on my lack of sharing. I’d have to reevaluate why I proposed a friendship.

“I care because you kissed me. Then you dropped the virgin bomb. Then I found you naked in a room with a man. I’m curious how that happened.”

That was all the honesty she was getting from me. I wasn’t about to tell her that feeling her lips on mine was an experience I wished I could repeat. Or that I’d liked how her body felt pressed up against mine. Or that the visual of her perky tits and toned body were forever seared into my memory. And there was no chance in hell I’d ever admit my dick hardened at the mere recollection. Lastly, I’d certainly never acknowledge there was something about her as a person that called to me so deeply, I did shit on purpose to push her away.

“I’ve known Willy for a long time. He’s an artist and has his first gallery show coming up soon and needed to finish one last pencil sketch he’s displaying. It wasn’t the best timing, but I figured we only needed about fifteen minutes and no one would notice I was gone. So, we used the guesthouse.”

“I’m not tracking. What does that have to do with you taking your clothes off?”

“He sketches nudes.”

“Come again?”

“Nudes. You know, he draws men and women without clothes. Nudes.”

“What in the actual fuck, Erin? You cannot have someone draw you naked.”

“And why the fuck not, Colin? I’m an adult, in case you’ve forgotten. I can consent to anything I want.”

Was she insane? There were plenty of reasons I could give her. None of which would matter, but the biggest one was I didn’t want anyone seeing Erin naked, let alone a gallery full of people. What if someone purchased the drawing and displayed her fully exposed in their home? Hell no!

“Your father for starters. You have a responsibility—”

“I’m aware of my responsibilities. They’ve been shoved down my throat so often, I couldn’t forget them if I wanted to.”

She sounded bitter she couldn’t parade around with no clothes on for the world to see. That pissed me off.

“You obviously forgot because you posed for him.”

“Whatever, think what you want. It never matters what I say anyway.”

“Don’t do that. It’s not what I think, it’s what you did. He drew you naked.”

“He did. Numerous times. He also took pictures.”

I was getting ready to blow my stack. Zane and Tom would have a shit hemorrhage. Zane had looked almost as angry as I’d felt when I’d shown him the pictures I’d confiscated from the man’s camera who’d been outside the guesthouse that night. And now there were more.

I slowly stood up and tried to keep my temper in check. “You let him take pictures?”

“Jesus. Stop yelling.”

I guess I didn’t have as much control as I’d hoped.

“This isn’t yelling, sunshine. Where are the pictures?”

“Hanging in the gallery, I suspect.”

“I’m gonna wring his fucking neck.”

“What? Why? Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

“Overreacting? Have you lost your damn mind?”

“No. But you certainly have. What the hell is the big deal?”

“Let’s see. The First Daughter of the United States posed nude for not only pictures, but drawings as well. I’m shocked the tabloids haven’t gone crazy over the story yet.”

“Maybe because I’m not an idiot. You can’t see my face.”

“What?”

“Yeah, Captain Drama. The pictures are from behind and I’m sitting so you can’t even see my ass. Just my back. And the sketches don’t have faces. No one will ever know they’re me. How stupid do you think I am?”

“I don’t think you’re stupid. I think—”

“You didn’t think. You didn’t ask for details. You assumed. You do that a lot when it comes to me. I’m sick and fucking tired of it. You’re no better than anyone else in my life. I can’t wait for this to be over. For my father’s last year as president to be done. I’m going to slink away into anonymity and finally live my life the way I want. I’m going to bed. Have a good night.”

She didn’t stomp away like I expected. She didn’t say anything more about me being a presumptuous asshole, which I deserved. She simply walked away with her shoulders slumped forward.

Shit. I fucked up. I needed to stop making snap judgements about Erin. She’d proven time and time again she was an intelligent woman. Why the hell was I so irrational when it came to her?