Bodyguard Reunion. Margaret Daley

shoulder brushed against hers when he shifted. The casual touch zipped through her, making her acutely aware of the man beside her at the window—almost as if only days had passed since they had been together instead of years. It disconcerted her, and she had to fight to think what she needed to say. “So I’ll have Kyra check the company and driver out. But I don’t see how the description of the car next to the limo will produce anything.”

      “While you were on the phone, Ben remembered the last three numbers of the license plate. It’s probably nothing, but we should tell your detective friend about the Mustang.”

      “In other words, we’re no closer to who or why someone is after the Zimmermans. Ben referred to the assailant as ‘he.’ Does he think it was a man who attacked him?”

      “I didn’t ask. I will, but Ben is over six feet tall and a hefty guy. To knock him out and stick him into the trunk would take someone large and capable of managing that physically.”

      “The man from the restroom?”

      T.J. shrugged. “As you said, we have little to go on.”

      A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. A black Crown Vic drove into the parking lot and stopped next to one of the patrol cars. Not far behind the police was the ambulance that pulled up to the door to the church. “Rob and his partner are here as well as the EMTs. I told Rob where we were. He’ll let us know when it’s safe for us to come out of the room.”

      T.J. massaged his nape, a frown marring the hard planes of his face. Although he wasn’t classically handsome, his strong features gave off an air of capability and confidence. On closer examination, she realized he must have broken his nose between the time they had been together and now. How had it happened? Had there been other injuries? She didn’t want to care, but she did.

      Before she became fixated on that, she swung toward the window and observed her friend entering the building. But every part of her was strongly aware of the man standing next to her, their arms only inches apart as they watched the same thing.

      “When we get back to the house, I’ll need to contact the Zimmermans’ publisher,” he finally said as all the police disappeared inside.

      “Are you going to recommend that the couple cancel the rest of the tour?”

      “Yes. Their message might be important, but not if they are hurt or killed.”

      “They feel this country is at a crossroads. One road holds destruction. The other is a chance for salvation. They’re out there fighting for us to take the right path. I’m not sure they’ll quit.”

      “Then we’ll have to do what we can to protect them.”

      He’d said we’ll. She used to think of them in terms of we. She knew the danger of doing it now, but they had to form a solid partnership in order to protect the Zimmermans, who were clearly in danger. The more she and T.J. were a united front, the better Mary and Paul would be.

      But at what cost to her feelings? When he’d left her to go to Washington, she’d been alone dealing with her mother and her chemo treatments. She’d missed her father, who had died two years before, and T.J. She’d never felt so alone. She couldn’t go there again.

      * * *

      T.J. made his rounds of the two-story house, checking all the doors and window to make sure the place was locked up tight. It had been a long day, and the Zimmermans had retired early. Now all he and Chloe had to do was keep them alive. He’d worked with others in his duties as a Secret Service agent, and usually he was the lead. Chloe had made it clear, though, that they needed to be partners, and she was right.

      When he entered the kitchen, the scent of perking coffee saturated the air. After the day he’d had, he would need the whole pot to keep going.

      Chloe turned from the counter, a grin gracing her lips. “It’s almost done.”

      For a few seconds that smile whisked away his worries. She’d made the day bearable; he’d known his back was covered. “I hope it’s not decaf.”

      “What’s the point in drinking coffee without the caffeine?”

      He chuckled. “True. I remember you like your coffee like I do—strong and caffeinated.” He recalled many things now that he was around her again. Her laugh—filled with so much joy. Her favorite dessert—anything with caramel. Her caring nature, especially for the underdog.

      “It’s strong. We’ll have to take turns standing guard tonight, so when the coffee runs out, make some more.”

      “I’ll take the first watch. Coffee won’t keep me up when I do get a chance to sleep. I don’t think anything will.” He covered the distance to the pot and poured a mugful. “This house isn’t as secure as it should be. I wish they weren’t staying here, but they insisted. Their friend invited them to use it while he was away on a skiing vacation.”

      “We’ll only be here a few more days, then on to San Antonio. Let’s hope the next place they’re staying is better.”

      “The alarm system is old and could be circumvented easily, not to mention the locks and door frames aren’t as sturdy as I’d like.”

      Her large eyes trapped him. “Maybe we should try to find a more secure place tomorrow. Then both of us can stay up tonight. Just in case there’s a follow-through with what happened today?”

      He didn’t remember her eyes being so green—like a peridot crystal—when they had been together before. “I’m a light sleeper. I’ll leave the door open. We both need some sleep in order to do our jobs. Even no sleep for one night could impair our abilities.”

      Chloe took a sip. “I was thinking of stretching out in front of the entrance to the Zimmermans’ bedroom. The easiest way to get to them is coming in the front door and up the stairs.”

      “I’ll be planting myself on the stairs when not making my rounds. That way you can sleep in the room across the hall from the Zimmermans’. I can’t imagine the hard floor being comfortable.”

      “I’m a light sleeper, too, so if you need help, just give me a holler.”

      The more he was around her, the more he realized they used to have a lot of things in common—but not enough for a commitment. “Wish we had a big dog right about now, but we’ll have to rely on the alarm system.”

      “The one that’s easily disarmed.” Her eyes twinkled, a dimple appearing in her cheek.

      Her look warmed him, although the old house they were staying in had a draft as if the cold wind blew right through it. “Afraid so.” He cupped the mug between his hands and took a slow sip. “This might be a good time to talk. As crazy as this first day was, we may not have time later.”

      Putting her cup down, she leaned back with her hands grasping the counter on either side of her. “I would prefer we leave the past in the past. What happened nine years ago can’t be changed.”

      She made it sound so easy. Just forget the past—the moments he’d shared with her, his decision to go into law enforcement rather than become a preacher and what his job had meant to him at the time. In the end it hadn’t made any difference. They had gone their separate ways, and he needed to remember that.

      “I made a choice to go to Washington—to take the promotion. I wanted you to come, but I understand why you didn’t. You had other obligations. Looking back on that time, I don’t think we were meant to be together. Sometimes people meet and begin to fall in love, but it doesn’t work out. I don’t want our past to interfere with the present.” As he spoke to her, he wondered if he really believed it couldn’t have worked out if circumstances had been different.

      “I don’t, either. I can put it behind me. Can you?” Her knuckles whitened as her grip tightened on the granite edge.

      “Yes, because I may be working with Guardians, Inc., and