Closer: A Stage Dive Novella - Kylie Scott Page 0,13

with a dad or a bear bod. The man carried himself so well. Also, I just enjoyed looking at him that much. Which (again) was wrong. Were I not a lapsed Catholic, I’d have been doing Hail Marys for days, thanks to the lustful thoughts this man inspired.

What was wrong with me?

I needed a moment to pull myself together, and I closed my eyes. Yes, much better. Without all of his hotness in my face my brain could actually function. “I’m fine. Just clumsy.”

“Your skin is red,” he commented.

“Oh, I’m blushing? That’s because it’s embarrassing being such a klutz,” my lying tongue lied.

“No, your foot.”

Then came a soft clink amongst other muted sounds. A cloth dabbed carefully at my foot. I opened my eyelids to see what was happening. Ziggy Thayer was on bended knee in front of me. His dark hair, wide shoulders, and even the long line of his spine were on display. With tea towel in hand, he wiped the hot coffee off my skin.

“I don’t think you’re burnt.” He gazed up at me with those oh so serious eyes. He had beautiful olive skin with a couple of white scars on his back. “Does it feel okay?”

“It feels…good. I mean fine. Yeah. No worries.”

“Lift your foot for me.”

“My foot?”

“That’s right.” He waited patiently until I did as asked. Once I had one raised a little off the ground, he gripped my ankle carefully with one hand, wiping the drops of coffee off my skin with the other. His hand was warm, the pads of his fingers slightly rough. Once done, he tapped lightly on the toes of my other foot to signal it was up and repeated the procedure.

All I could do was stare. He did the job with such care, so gentle yet thorough. The man made my skin tingle, especially my crotch. Even my boyfriend from a few years back with the mild foot fetish had never turned me on this much. Did the bodyguard even know the effect he had on me? The outline of my nipples through the thin material of my shirt certainly didn’t qualify as coy. Sheesh. Clients throwing themselves at him probably happened all of the time. After all, his job description basically involved turning up and taking charge at the precise moment someone was at their most vulnerable. And being super-buff, apparently. Recipe for lust. Didn’t mean I needed to be crass or improper.

“Thank you for that, Ziggy. Much appreciated.”

“Take a step back and I’ll clean up the broken pieces so you don’t cut yourself.”

“You’re not my housekeeper,” I said. “You don’t have to do that.”

Again, he just waited until I complied. It was so strange, having him tend to me, having someone look after me like this. Carefully, he proceeded to gather up all of the broken pieces and place them in the tea towel. When he rose to his feet, towering over me, I searched his face for something. Some hint of emotion. I found nothing, though it seemed there was heat radiating from his skin. Either that or I was blushing again. Damn inconvenient habit.

“I’ll take that,” I said. “Thanks again.”

He nodded and gave me the damp package before heading back to the bathroom without another word. And I stood there like an idiot all dazed and confused, watching him go. As if I could do anything else with him walking around my apartment half naked.

Perhaps I should take Lena up on her offer of a blind date. I might need to give it more thought. Who knows, maybe a man even more divine than Ziggy was out there right now, waiting for me. Someone who didn’t come with pesky concerns for professional cordiality. In the meantime, cleaning up the rest of the spillage and a nice cold shower seemed like a great idea.

“He gave the box along with five dollars to one of the regular delivery guys as he was walking inside,” she said.

Ziggy, Sarah from reception, and I stood gathered around the reception desk. Another bland brown box sat there with a label bearing my name. She’d called up no more than five minutes before, asking if we were available to come down. And it wasn’t so she could deliver good news.

“We got him on the security cameras, but he was wearing all black clothing and a motorcycle helmet,” continued Sarah. “No distinguishing features that I could see.”

I peeled back the packing tape. “We need to make sure.”

“Detective Ortega will be over in