Page 117 of You Found Me

“Rules?” She frowned, confused. “What rules? For what?”

Ward abruptly stood. The blanket slid off him to the ground. “Let’s get some cider. Elyse, Sam? You want cider?”

“Yes, please,” Samantha said over her shoulder. She and the girl next to her had been huddled over her phone ever since they sat down. “Bring some for Jenna too please.”

Elyse smiled up at him. “Thanks, honey.”

Ward looked at Della. “With me.”

Ward made his exit so fast Della had trouble keeping up with him.

She sidestepped a trash can. “Is there a fire?”

“This way.” He took her hand and led her underneath the bleachers where a group of teenagers were drinking something out of a brown paper bag.

“Get lost,” Ward said in a voice that perfectly combined the authority of an ex-Marine and an ex-football captain.

The group scurried away with a few backward glances.

“Well, that was effective.” Della peered at him, confused but a little hopeful. “Are we going to make out under the bleachers?”

“We have to get something straight.” Ward stepped into her, so close she could feel the warmth of him through her too-thin sweater. “Until your situation is resolved, the only relationship we have is fiction. I have a job to do and rules to follow, Ms. …”

Della could see him swallowing the Bellamy that should have followed.

“Lucy,” he ground out like a curse.

“I know there are rules,Donovan. You told me all about them when we first got here.” She’d already broken one of the rules. But dammit, it was one tiny slip in the storeroom. It didn’t count, and it wasn’t her fault. Anybody would sing along to Shania Twain. Even Shania Twain.

“I have rules too. Professional rules.”

“You mean bodyguard rules? Like what?” She shifted so that her back was to the group of people who wandered by. “You should put your arms around me if you don’t want people asking if we’re okay. And you should put the frowny face away too, or they’ll think they need to come to my rescue.”

He kept his hands at his sides. “Rule five: Don’t be out of contact.”

“Unless you’re me, of course, then don’t contact anyone at all.”

“These rules aren’t foryou, Lucy. They’re for me. Rule four: Don’t be intoxicated while on duty.”

He was reciting his rules in reverse order like it was some kind of countdown.

“I’ve seen you have a drink.”

“One. I hadonedrink, and only after?—”

“After I drove you to it?” she supplied in her most helpful tone.

“It was a prop.”

“Sure it was. You had two props at the birthday party. And three the other night when Rachel came in. Seems to me you blew right past rule four.”

“Rule three,” he ground out. “Always trust your instincts.”

“Really?” She tilted her head. She knew he was trying to make a point. She just wasn’t sure what, exactly, the point was. “Or do you mean trust them except when it comes to what might make you happy? Because I was there in that sunflower field with you. I know you were having a good time.”

“Rule two,” he continued like she hadn’t said anything. “Never let your guard down.”

“Please.” She snorted. “As if you ever would. And I’m still not seeing a rule that means we can’t have one tiny kiss. Maybe two.”