Page 26 of All Bets are Off

Clearing his throat, Logan turns his attention to the scenery out the window as Peter navigates the car through downtown Raleigh traffic.

“You two really Marines?” Felix asks, eyes running over us.

I nod.

“Special Forces is cooler,” he says, turning back to his phone.

Logan makes a face at me, and I cover a chuckle with a cough into my fist.

The car pulls up a private drive to a sprawling white brick house surrounded by fenced-in fields. It’s a beautiful spring day and the row of Japanese Cherry trees on the edge of the expansive property are in full bloom, their small pink blossoms scattering across the pristine lawn in the breeze.

As we emerge from the limousine, the front door bursts open hard enough to alert both Logan and me into drawing our guns only to put them back in their holsters when seven exuberant teenage boys spring from the porch onto the lawn. Celine walks by them as though they aren’t there and slips into the house, Logan quickly following, while I scope the surroundings as the group tackles Felix with a barrage of noogies, wedgies, and wet willies.

“Let’s take this inside,” I finally say, herding the group into the house.

“Your new bodyguard’s a grump,” one of the boys murmurs loudly, his arm slung around Felix’s shoulder.

“Really lame, too,” Felix mutters back.

I have never felt older than I do at this moment.

The group settles in a large family room with a kitchen on one end and a pool table on the other, a couple of them immediately picking up cues and starting a game. A rock video plays on the big-screen TV mounted on the wall, and a few of the boys rip into the various bags of unhealthy snacks that litter the counter. Logan has disappeared with Celine, and a text from him tells me he’s upstairs with her and her friends.

A pounding on the front door sends several of the guys back to the front of the house, but Felix remains in the room, so I stand in the doorway until the quartet comes back with two new boys in tow.

What proceeds are hours of talk about sports and girls combined with the rhythmic knocking of the pool balls and the annoying music from the TV. I wonder what Logan’s being subjected to upstairs. Feeling someone’s eyes on me, I look to my left to find one of the boys—Kevin, I think his name is—staring at me.

“So, you’re a bodyguard,” he says, running his hand through his shock of auburn hair.

I’m a little surprised, as this is the first time any of the boys in the room have addressed me. I nod.

“Why did you become one? Judging from what I’ve seen of you and the bodyguard they had before, it looks hella boring.”

“I kind of fell into it when I left active duty,” I say, eyes going to Felix to make sure he’s still where he was a moment ago.

Kevin’s eyes light up. “Were you in the navy?”

“Marines,” I say, trying to keep the disdain from my voice. All branches of the armed forces deserve respect, butcome on.

Kevin sizes me up. “You’re pretty buff. That’s cool.”

Well, cool’s better than lame,I think, but evidently, I’m not all that cool, because Kevin soon bores of me and turns his attention back to his friends.

It’s one a.m. before Felix is ready to leave, and my eyes feel like they’re full of sand. I haven’t gone to bed this late in weeks.You really are old,I think.

I checked in with Boring hours earlier and was disappointed he didn’t seem to feel there was any hurry to get his kids home. The thought of falling onto some clean sheets and sleeping six hours straight has been taunting me for hours.

“Celine!” Felix shouts up the marble stairs at the front of the house when we emerge from the rec room. Sterling’s parents are out of town, or I’d say something about the yelling.

A gaggle of girls, including Celine, appears at the top of the stairs, Logan behind them. When I get a good look at him, I burst into laughter.

“What the hell happened to you?” I ask when he descends.

“Shut up.” Logan says, nudging past me and striding out the front door behind his charge.

Peter is asleep in the limo but straightens in the driver’s seat and adjusts his glasses when the doors open.

When we’re rolling down the drive, I grin at Logan, who’s wiping at his face with a tissue. The girls obviously talked him into letting them put makeup on him—his lips and cheeks are painted a vibrant pink and his lashes look even longer and darker than usual, making his blue eyes stand out.