Bennett: an m/m bodyguard romance (Hunter Security), page 3
Archer: I don’t want to bother you.
Me: It won’t be a bother, I promise. See you at five.
The dots dance in the corner of my screen again but stop, and no other messages pop up. I’m not surprised in the least. I bet he’s grumbling to himself about me not taking no for an answer. Or maybe he’s calling his sister to bitch about her ratting him out. Either way, it’s fine by me. The faster Archer realizes he isn’t getting rid of me that easily, the better.
Obviously, I would like Archer to want me around for his safety, but I’ll take acceptance for now.
Chapter Six
Archer
My sister is the worst sometimes. Okay, that’s a harsh statement, considering she only wants what’s best for me, but it’s still annoying that she didn’t trust me to tell Bennett about my morning runs. She was right not to trust me, but it’s irritating, nonetheless.
I run the same paths all the time, and nothing has happened in the past. Why do I have to have a babysitter now? I get that the drugging was scary, but that was in a whole different state. The crazy fan isn’t here. If he were, wouldn’t he have tried something already?
I shake my head and tie my shoes when the buzzer on my gate goes off. I guess Bennett is one of those guys with the thought process that if you’re not early, you are late because it’s quarter to five.
With a sigh, I hit the button to let Bennett in and head outside to wait for my new shadow.
“Ready for a run?” Bennett asks after he gets out of his vehicle, making his way over to me.
I look up and nod, taking in how, even in basketball shorts and a plain T-shirt, he looks sexy as sin. His smile is bright, but his eyes are covered by a pair of black Ray-Bans. I hate when people wear sunglasses, even if they are practical, which they aren’t right now, seeing as the sun is only starting to rise.
Eyes tell so much about a person. When they’re covered, it’s like they are hiding behind a fortress. Or maybe it’s my control-freak ways hating that it makes it harder to read a person.
“Do you always wear sunglasses when it’s dark out?” I question, wanting to be a smartass for the moment.
Bennett snickers, moving them to the top of his head so they rest on his raven hair. “I figured by the time our run was over, I might need them, but I’ll take them off if they make you uncomfortable,” he offers.
I lift my shoulders in a nonchalant way, acting like I don’t care, even if I do.
Without me having to say a word, Bennett runs to his car, discards his sunglasses, then darts back to me. “What way do you like to run?” he asks.
Instantly, I’m worried I made a mistake by hinting that he take the sunglasses off. His soulful eyes are far too easy to get lost in.
“I take a couple of different paths, but I need a long run today,” I tell him, then realize I’ve forgotten my water bottle. “Did you need a water?” I check, heading up the steps to my front door.
“Sure, I forgot to bring one this morning. I’ll remember tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. That’s right, this is going to be a regular thing.
Inside, I reach into the refrigerator to grab two water bottles and make a resolution to stop acting like an ass. I’m not normally this big of a grump, and putting on a front is tiring as fuck. I’m stuck with Bennett, at least for a while. It’s best that we become friends because there is no way I want to live with this awkward tension for months.
Once I’m outside again, I hand him a water bottle and say, “I normally do a soft jog for five minutes to warm up my muscles, then take a break for a stretch before really pushing it. Does that work for you?”
“Sounds great,” he says with that bright smile I’m starting to think is a semipermanent fixture on his face. That’s also when I notice his dimple, and I damn near swoon. How is this man a bodyguard and not a model or something?
“Perfect, let’s get going, then.”
Bennett follows me through my property to the back gate that leads us to a walking trail. I put in the code for the lock and hold it open for my bodyguard, who beams at me in response.
“Tell me a bit about yourself,” I press as we jog through the trail system.
The air has a chill to it, but it’s not too cold. It is the perfect temperature for running, at least in my opinion.
“I grew up in Nashville,” he starts.
I raise a brow. “How come you don’t have an accent?”
He chuckles. “I didn’t particularly like it, so I worked hard to lose it. It comes out when I’m angry or drunk, though.”
I titter. “That makes sense. I have a few friends like that.” Not wanting things to become awkward, I ask, “Is your family still there?”
“Yup. My dad is a pastor at a small church. My momma is retired but watches my brother’s three kids while he and his wife work.”
Pastor?
Shit, I wonder if Bennett is homophobic.
“My parents are the nicest people you’ll ever meet,” he continues. “Not going to lie. I was a little nervous to come out a couple of years ago, but they accepted me with open arms. My dad isn’t one of those pastors who thinks all gay people are going to hell. He says God judges us on what’s in our hearts, not who we love.”
I smile, the worry I was harboring melting away.
“So, you’re gay?” I ask, wanting to make sure I wasn’t hearing things, but he shakes his head.
“I think pansexual is the label that best describes me, but I also kind of hate labels, if I’m being honest.”
“I get that. It’s like being put into a box,” I muse out loud.
“Exactly, but I also get why people like labels. It gives them a sense of identity. I’m kind of a whatever floats your boat kind of person.”
I chuckle, then almost gasp when we arrive at the opening where I stretch. Have we been jogging for five minutes already? Wow, time sure is flying.
Maybe it’s because Bennett is an intriguing man. But that doesn’t totally add up. I’ve had many conversations with plenty of interesting people in the past, but none felt like this. There is a connection between Bennett and me that I’ve never experienced before.
“Ready to stretch?” I ask.
“Yep,” he responds.
We’re silent as we extend and move our now-warm muscles, making sure they don’t get injured when we exert them. The quiet isn’t awkward. It’s actually comfortable. That is until I cast a glance at Bennett touching his toes. His perfect ass is high in the air, almost as if it’s on display for me, and I have to avert my eyes because my cock is already chubbing in my shorts. The last thing I need is for my bodyguard to think I’m a pervert.
I close my eyes, take slow, deep breaths, and continue to stretch, trying my hardest to keep my thoughts away from the sexy man near me.
After a few controlled inhales and exhales, I finally have my body centered, and I’m no longer worried about Bennett catching me with a full-blown erection. The last thing I want is for him to quit because he’s uncomfortable.
I’m enjoying getting to know him and wouldn’t mind learning more.
The things I could…
“All warmed up?” Bennett inquires, distracting me from my train of thought.
I beam at him, trying not to be awkward but probably failing. “Yup. This trail system will lead us into a neighborhood that we can run through, and the road will eventually take us to the front of my house,” I tell him. “It usually takes me about an hour.”
“Lead the way,” he replies with a sweep of his arm and that signature smile. I find it’s something I could become addicted to if I’m not careful.
I take off at a decent pace, and as predicted, Bennett is right on my heels. If those muscles barely contained by his clothing are anything to go off of, I bet he’s in just as good, if not better, shape than I am.
Just because someone lifts doesn’t mean they are a runner, but my bodyguard isn’t showing any signs of slowing down. For some reason, that makes me happy. I haven’t had anyone to run with in a long time. None of my band members like to run as fast or as long as I do, and if you ever see Aria running, you better run too because something is chasing her.
As we move, I lose track of the world around me, my brain drifts to song ideas, and I let my feet carry me on the familiar path home. Running has always allowed me to let go of anything that’s stressing me out and to recenter myself. It’s in moments like this that the best lyrics hit me. This and in the shower.
After we round a corner, a tune pops into my head, and I hum, wanting to keep the melody alive until I have a moment to pause and record it on my phone for later.
By the time we arrive at my front gate, my legs feel like Jell-O, and my lungs burn, but I’m still humming my tune with a smile on my face.
“What song have you been humming?” Bennett asks as I put in the code to open the gate for us.
“It’s not a song yet, just an idea,” I tell him, unscrewing the cap of my water bottle and taking a swig. A few drops miss my mouth and dribble down my chin, and I lift my shirt to use the hem to wipe away the mess. “I didn’t want to forget it. That’s why I’ve been humming it.”
When I look at Bennett, his eyes are a deeper hue, and his signature smile is missing. If I didn’t know better, I would say the look was lust-filled and hungry, but that can’t be right.
He blinks a few times, then beams at me, the odd look replaced with a friendlier one. “That’s a good idea. I’m also super impressed that you hummed so evenly as you ran.”
Not wanting to think too much about what just happened, I begin the trek up my long driveway.
“How often do you get back to Nashville?” I ask while we walk.
“Not as often as I’d like, but usually twice a year. I wasn’t planning on moving away from home, but I met Nixon when I left the Army, and he offered me a job here. I was nervous to take it, but it turned out to be amazing. I’ve really grown as a person being away from my family. You’re from LA, right?”
“Yup, born and raised. Aria is my twin, and we have two younger siblings, Clayton and Stefanie. Our parents live in a nice gated community on the other side of town. I love my family to bits, but I needed some space, so I bought this property.”
Bennett throws his head back and lets out a full belly laugh. It is deep and warm and brings a smile to my face. “I know that feeling. It’s why I haven’t really considered moving back to Nashville. I’d like to visit a bit more often, but I’m pretty sure I’d go insane if I were with them all the time.”
“You’ve got an overbearing mom too?” I tease.
“Oh yes. In the best way, but I’m sure I would hear a lot more about how I need to find myself a partner if I lived closer. As it is, I already get a weekly phone call.”
I chuckle. “I know the feeling. My mom keeps harping on me that music can’t keep my bed warm or fill my house with laughter.”
“Sounds like something my mom would say.”
I down the rest of my water before we reach the front door, and so does Bennett. “Would you like another one?” I ask with a tilt of my head.
“Sure,” he replies, following me into my house.
Instead of wasting water bottles, I grab two glasses and fill each with ice and cold water from my refrigerator.
“Thanks,” Bennett says as I hand him the glass.
My fingers brush against his, and I suck in a quick breath. Tingles shoot up my arms, leaving me frozen for a moment.
Deep umber eyes meet mine, and that hungry look is on his face again, but he doesn’t try to cool it this time. Like magnets being attracted to each other, we lean in, but before our lips can meet, my phone blares, and I jump back.
“It’s my sister,” I murmur, running a hand over my face, then grab my phone. “Is there something I can help you with?” My tone is filled with snark, but Aria is used to my attitude.
“Mom fell. She’s in the hospital. Can you meet me there?” she asks.
My blood runs cold. “Is she okay?” I check with a lump in my throat.
“I’m not sure. No one is giving me much information,” she grumbles.
“Is Dad with her?”
“Yes, but his phone is dead,” she snips out, and I sigh. Our dad is notorious for not charging his phone. “Clayton is the one who called me, but you know how he is at relaying information.”
Clayton is the youngest of us and is extremely forgetful. He tries his best, but if he doesn’t write something down, consider that information gone.
There is no point in asking about our sister, Stefanie, since she’s currently in Canada filming a movie. She probably hasn’t even been told Mom fell yet. I doubt anyone will tell her anything until we have all the details.
“Okay, I’m on my way,” I assure her, then hang up. “Can you drive me to the hospital?” I ask Bennett, who must be confused as to what’s going on. “My mom fell, but that’s the only information I have right now.”
“Let’s go,” he says, placing his hand on my back and ushering me out the door.
His touch is warm and comforting, and I’m dying to lean into it, but I don’t because that would be weird and wrong. Right?
“Are you okay?” Bennett checks as he drives, giving me a quick glance.
“I think so,” I reply, a numbness taking over my body.
He nods but doesn’t say anything else, and the silence is deafening for some reason.
“I’m scared,” I admit. “I’m sure it’s nothing, but what if it isn’t? What if she’s seriously hurt? I can’t lose my mom.” Tears pool in my eyes. I try to blink them away, but a few escape, cascading down my face.
Bennett reaches across the console and places his hand on mine but doesn’t say anything because there isn’t much to say. Instead, he’s offering me strength through his touch. Without thinking much about it, I turn my palm over to hold his hand, and he squeezes, not letting go.
When was the last time someone offered me silent assurance like this? Has anyone just known I needed support and given it to me without question?
I don’t even think my ex was this in tune with me before. I appreciate that Bennett is paying close enough attention to realize how affected I am right now and is willing to hold my hand as I break down inside.
The rest of the drive is quiet, but Bennett doesn’t let go of my hand the entire time. Even though I’m still anxious, his touch is helping me from completely losing my shit.
After arriving at the hospital, Bennett follows me as I rush to the front desk. I miss his touch, which is weird and not something I have time to comprehend right now. I barely know this guy, yet I crave his touch. That’s not normal.
“I’m looking for Chantel Dawson. I’m her son,” I tell the lady at the front desk as my twin comes rushing into the hospital.
“How did you beat me?” Aria asks through panted breaths.
“I’ve got a fast driver,” I say with a tilt of my head toward Bennett.
“Your mom is in room three-o-four,” the lady tells us, and we rush to find our mom.
A pillow flies through the air as we enter the room, hitting Clayton in the face. “I just broke my ankle. You don’t need to treat me like a child,” Mom scolds him. When she sees us, she sighs. “Great, you let everyone know.”
“What happened?” I question as we make our way farther into the room.
“I tripped and fell down the stairs, but I’m fine,” she assures me. “Your father and brother are overreacting.”
“You’re not as young as you once were, Chantel,” my dad tells her. “And when you hit your head, it was scary. I’m sorry that I thought the worst, but it could have been something serious. So I’m not sorry about bringing you in. Besides, you did break your ankle, so stop acting like it was nothing.”
My mom rolls her eyes but doesn’t complain anymore.
“We are glad it wasn’t something more serious,” Aria says, grabbing Mom’s hand.
“You two didn’t have to come visit. I’ll be going home soon,” Mom states, but Aria and I shake our heads.
“Doesn’t matter if it was even just a sprain, we would be here,” I tell her. “You’re our mom, and we want to be here for you.”
“I have the best children,” Mom says. “But now I have to know who this handsome man is standing behind you, Archer.”
I startle. Shit, I completely forgot about Bennett for a second.
“That’s Bennett,” Aria introduces him. “Archer’s bodyguard.”
“Thank you for looking out for my boy,” Mom tells Bennett.
He flashes her a smile. “Not a problem at all. I’m just getting to know him, but he seems like a pretty great guy,” Bennett offers but is looking at me as he says it.
“He is. All of my children are amazing,” Mom boasts. “Now that everyone knows I’m fine, would you please leave me alone to rest in peace?”
I titter, moving to hug her and kiss her forehead. When I move to pull away, she grabs me back in for a fierce hug. “You should ask your bodyguard out,” she whispers in my ear.
I shake my head, and this time she lets me go. “I love you too, Mom,” I reply instead of telling her that asking Bennett out would be a bad idea.
“Ready to go?” he asks.
“Yep,” I answer.
The way he smiles at me has my heart racing a little.
Would asking Bennet out really be the worst thing?
Chapter Seven
Bennett
The drive to Archer’s place is quiet and awkward. We shared a moment but haven’t had a chance to talk about it. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to bring it up. It’s eating at me, but since Archer is my client, it feels wrong to talk about it unless he starts the conversation.
“Your mom is a firecracker,” I note, wanting the quiet to end.
“She really is,” Archer replies, smiling. “I’m glad she only has minor injuries.”
“I’m surprised no one said that in a text.”
“Dad never charges his phone, and Clayton isn’t very good at relaying messages. I bet Dad told him to let Aria know that Mom fell, so that’s what he did. He didn’t think to add that she’s okay,” Archer explains, and I love how at ease he is with opening up to me. “He’s a concrete thinker. Everything is very black and white to him. He didn’t technically do anything wrong. He did as he was told. No one can expect him to do more than that when you know how his brain works.”
