The Protector (Barrett Boys #3) - Jordan Ford Page 0,20

can’t find the right guy, then she can’t go, and that would break her heart. By the looks of this picture, she’s not that happy anyway, so why make things worse for her?

Taking this job would be helping someone.

I’d be doing something good.

And heck, if I did get to actually protect her, I’d be a freaking hero, right?

Nothing wrong with that.

The phone beside my leg starts vibrating. I look down at Caller Unknown and figure it’s Azim.

“Hello, Brody speaking.” My voice has got a shake I want to ditch, so I clear my throat.

“Azim here. I’d like to offer you the job.”

Before I can give weight to any more doubts, I nod and say, “Thank you, sir. I accept.”

“Excellent. I’ll see you at 10:00 a.m. sharp.”

9

The Tall Guy

DADDY: The den. Two minutes.

I glare at the text from my father and huff. He couldn’t just come and get me?

Slapping my book shut, I rest it on the stack by my bed and head out of my room.

Ruby’s hovering in our grand entrance, her heels tapping on the tiles as she paces by the front door.

“What’s going on?” I murmur, but she doesn’t hear me.

I’m a little grateful. She’s looking kind of pouty, and I don’t want to have my ears fall off when she rants about whatever’s annoying her today.

Walking into the den, I’m stopped short by the sight of a tall guy with short-cropped hair.

He’s standing there, all broad and imposing-looking like a soldier, but also not. His stance is too relaxed and casual to be military. His eyes and face, though. They’re looking serious.

I trail my gaze over him, not missing the angles of his body. He’s wearing dark navy jeans and a fitted shirt, and it’s kind of impossible not to notice the size of his biceps or the way his torso is shaped in that sexy, triangular way. Like he could be an underwear model or something.

I glance at his face again, but he’s watching me, so I quickly avert my gaze and focus on Daddy.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Azim found you a bodyguard.” Daddy raises his chin at the tall one.

My eyes dart to Azim, who gives me a knowing wink and nod.

“According to his résumé here, he comes highly recommended from Alpha Security. He’s certified. Not as much experience as I’d like, but this reference paints him in a pretty good light.” Daddy’s eyes zero in on the new guy. “So, Brody Markum. You think you’re up for a job like this?”

“Yes, sir.”

Brody.

Hm. I like that name.

His voice is deep too.

“How old are you?” I ask.

“Twenty-one.” His eyebrows rise, and he gives me a closed-mouth smile.

I nod. Twenty-one. I can work with twenty-one. We could build a story around that. He’s a couple years late starting college because he did a gap year or something. Traveled or worked to earn some money for college before attending.

I tap my index finger on my forearm, my brain running with plausible backstories.

“You understand that you will be living in the same apartment as my daughter, attending classes with her, and guarding her every move.” Daddy’s look and tone match perfectly. He’s got his business face on—the powerful one that gets people to do what he wants, when he wants them to.

Brody nods, and I’m impressed at the way he holds my father’s gaze. “Yes, sir.”

“You will be checking in with Azim daily, and I will expect a weekly report.”

“Of course.” Brody glances at Azim, then back to my father, again putting on another closed-mouth smile.

Is there a touch of nervousness under that confident veneer?

I eye him some more, my gaze trailing down to his large sneakers before resting on his face again. He’s kind of handsome. I like the shape of his nose. It’s sharp, Roman. And is that a chin dimple I’m spotting?

He clears his throat, and I’m suddenly aware that he’s noticing me checking him out again.

I look to the floor, my eyes grazing the twitch of his lips before I’m staring at the plush Persian rug beneath my Coca-Cola red toenails.

“Azim has shown you the letter. You know what we’re dealing with. If anything happens to my little girl, I’ll be holding you fully responsible.”

My head pops up so I can take in my father’s stern expression.

“Daddy,” I reprimand.

“Don’t you ‘Daddy’ me. If I had my way, you wouldn’t be going at all. Now, I expect this man to bring you home every holiday safe and sound.” He’s pointing at Brody while he speaks, but