“Are you ready?” Hendrick asks when we’re both finished eating. He smiles at me, but it’s a tired, stressed-out smile that makes me wish I could fix all of it instead of pile on. But I have to pile on. It’s been three days since I got the weird email, and I still haven’t told him. Nothing else has happened, but if I know Hendrick, and I think I’m starting to, he’s going to be pissed I didn’t confide in him immediately.
I wish I had done it, oh, about three hours ago. Now I feel like a giant jerk for adding more things for him to worry about.
He scoots to the end of the bench and starts to stand, but I force myself to stay sitting. If I get up, I’ll wait another day (or three) to tell him.
“Everything okay?” he asks in a hesitant tone.
“Wait. Before we go . . .”
He moves over in the booth so he’s back directly in front of me. His voice is gruff and tense as he says, “Fuck, I’m sorry. You wanted to talk to me.”
“It’s probably easier if I just show you.”
I hold my phone in my hands with the email pulled up so all I have to do is hand it to him, but I still don’t just yet. “First though, I’m so sorry for the timing. The thing with your brother is top priority. Family comes first and if it’s all too much right now then I will call Grady tonight and—”
“Show me, Jane.”
The command in his voice leaves no room for argument. I hand over my phone and wait while he reads it. It doesn’t take long.
When he looks up at me those hazel eyes are so dark, I’d swear they’re brown. “You got this on Friday and didn’t say anything until now?”
I guess it was too much to hope that he’d not notice the time stamp. “I wanted to. It’s why I texted that night. I knew I needed to, but then you showed up and, well, I didn’t.”
“Why? Why would you keep something like this from me? Dammit, Jane, I can’t keep you safe if I don’t know what’s happening.”
“I know. I know. I’m sorry, okay? I’m just tired of it.”
“Of what?”
“All of it. Feeling scared and hopeless and dealing with drama after drama. And I used to like drama.”
We sit there in silence, me feeling guilty, and him probably pissed and more stressed.
I feel awful, and I guess I should. “I know that it’s your job to protect me, but sometimes I just want you to see me as a girl and not your client.”
“I see you. All of you. But it doesn’t help anything if you keep things like this to yourself.” He hands my phone back. “Are there any more?”
“No. Just the one.”
“Any other things that have happened at home or on campus?”
I shake my head.
“Nothing that’s given you pause?” He presses. “Anything at all? Even if you think it’s not related.”
I start to say no but then think of Clint. “Maybe, actually. It could be nothing.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
“About a month ago my ex liked one of my photos on Instagram.” It sounds dumb when I say it out loud, but Hendrick doesn’t brush it off. “The night of the party, actually.”
“The same night someone was in your room?”
“Yes.” I swallow around a lump in my throat. It hadn’t occurred to me until now that both of those things happened on the same day.
“This is the guy who stalked you after you broke up, right?”
“How do you . . .” I trail off. “My parents.”
He has enough sympathy to look apologetic. “Before I started the job, they gave me some background on the situation with Clint and a few other threats you received while in L.A.”
“None of it ever amounted to anything. Bullies behind a keyboard, mostly. Same as whoever sent the email, probably.”
“You might be right, but I’m still going to have Logan look into it. Forward me the email and then block and delete. E. Rex Sean,” he mutters. “Clever.”
Hearing the name out loud finally makes it click.
“Oh my god. Erection!” I shout a little too loudly for In-N-Out.
“Just now piecing that together?”
“I feel like such an idiot. Again. I was so worried about not telling you and then equally worried about telling you and dropping more shit on your lap when you already have so much else going on. For a stupid prank email.”
He reaches across the table and stops my rambling with his touch. Those strong hands and those long fingers with rough edges. “You’re not an idiot and you don’t know if it’s a prank.”
“E. Rex Sean?” I say again, still pissed at myself for being scared of some jerk who has the maturity of a sixth grader. Fuck, it might be a sixth grader.
“You’re not an idiot,” he repeats. “I grew up in a house of boys. Perverted names were one of our many specialties.”
I laugh at that, though I struggle to picture Hendrick as a kid making jokes about erections. He seems like a guy that’s always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Thank you,” I say softly. “And I’m—”
“Don’t say sorry. It’s literally my job.”
I fall quiet because everything I want to say is me apologizing more.
“And also,” he says, voice low. “Even if it wasn’t my job, I’d do whatever I could to keep you safe.”
Later, I’m watching TV in the living room by myself when there’s a knock at the door. I press mute and freeze, waiting for another knock. I’m not expecting anyone. Daisy is at Jordan’s hockey game, Vi is at a study group, and Dahlia left today for a golf tournament.
I’m still tensed, mind reeling with scenarios, when Hendrick’s voice calls out. “I know you’re home, Jane. I saw you through the front window.”
Cursing the open curtains, I get up and open the front door to a smiling Hendrick. He glances past me into the house.
“What are you doing here?” I cross my arms over my bra-free chest.
“Can I come in?”
“Sure,” I say slowly and step out of the way. He follows me over to the couch and we both take a seat. He eyes the muted TV with amusement.
“Farmer Wants a Wife,” I tell him. “It sounds bizarre, but I’m totally hooked.”
One side of his mouth lifts. “Where is everyone?”
“Out. What’s up? Everything okay with Flynn?”
“The eye is getting blacker by the hour, but otherwise he’s good, I think.”
“Good.”
He rubs his palms together. “I don’t like you being here by yourself.”
“I’ll set the alarm (I finally agreed to one of those, though I still hate it), and my roommates will be back later, I think.”
“You think?” One dark brow lifts.
“Did you need something or did you just come here to give me a hard time?”
He takes a second before he speaks again. “I was thinking, what if you came and stayed at my place for a few days?”
“Yeah, that’s the plan, right? I’ll be over in the morning.”
“No, I mean, what if you stayed all day and all night?”
“You want me to move in with you?” My voice raises several octaves, and a thousand butterflies take flight in my stomach.
“Logan is looking into the email, but until then I would really feel better if you weren’t sitting home alone.”
I open my mouth to argue that I’m perfectly safe, but his face takes on a vulnerability that I’m not sure I’ve ever seen from Hendrick. He’s usually so closed-off and grumpy. “I’m sure you’re right and that it’s unnecessary, but right now I don’t feel like I can do my job and manage things at home. You’d be helping me out. Otherwise, I will talk to Logan about someone taking over for me.”
Move in with him or get a new bodyguard completely? He’s not playing fair.
“What if I just get there really early in the morning and come home really late at night?”
He says nothing, but his face is impassive.
“It feels like overkill.”
“Probably, but I’m not willing to take any chances.”
“Can I think about it tonight?” I’m planning on going to his house tomorrow morning anyway, so that gives me some time to talk him out of this plan. I can’t move in with him. That’s crazier than this farmer finding a wife on reality TV.
“Sure. Yeah. Of course.”
After a beat, he shifts and settles back on the couch, staring straight ahead. He lets his head fall to the side and he smiles. “Are you going to hit play or what?”
“You’re staying?”
“If you won’t stay with me, then I guess I’ll have to stay here.”
