Shane smiled. “I used to have a T-shirt with that diagram, only it had a lobster instead of a rock.”
“A lobster’s definitely something.”
“Wish I had one now,” Shane said. “When I was a kid, I used to trap them and bring them home for my grandma to cook. We’d sit at the kitchen table and eat them with melted butter.”
“That sounds fun.” She grinned, trying to picture a tiny Shane. It was hard to imagine that utterly adult and masculine man as a little boy. “Were you on vacation, or did your grandma live with you?”
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“She lived with me.” Shane paused and adjusted the MREs, and Catalina thought that was all he had to say. But to her surprise, he went on, “My father was never in the picture, and my mother died when I was four. My grandmother raised me in a little house on the coast of Maine.”
“Is she still there?”
He shook his head. “She died eight years ago. She did get to see me become a PJ, though. She was proud. She’d been in the Air Force herself, as an aircraft technician.”
“Did you have other family?” Catalina asked. “Or was it just you and her?”
“Just me and her. My grandfather died before my mom did, and the family had been small to begin with. What about you?”
“I lived with my grandma too,” Catalina replied. “Also my grandpa, my parents, an aunt, two brothers, and a sister, all in a room about this size.”
Shane glanced around the small room. “Sounds like some barracks I’ve lived in. Did you ever get an upgrade?”
“Yeah, in middle school we moved into a two-bedroom. By the time I was in high school, we were in a real house. We came over from Mexico— I mean, my parents and grandparents and aunt did, the kids were born here— and the adults worked 24-7 to support us. They wanted us to have a better life than they did.”
“They must be proud of you.”
“Well— sort of.” Catalina sighed. “I’m the baby. I have one brother who’s a cardiologist and another who’s an immigration lawyer. My sister’s a judge. I was supposed to be a doctor or a lawyer or an engineer. But I’ve never liked sitting still and studying. Becoming a paramedic was hard enough. I can’t imagine doing four years of college and then years more of grad school. My family’s glad I earn an honest living and it’s not as backbreaking as what they had to do, but they really wanted me to get a fancy degree and have my own office.”
“And sit down all day, pushing papers and wearing a business suit?”
“You got it.”
“That’s no life for people like us,” Shane said. “Your patients are lucky you didn’t do what your family wanted.”
Catalina had never looked at it that way before. She was still thinking about that, and also about the “like us,” when he unwrapped the MREs and set them before her.
“Take your pick.”
She inspected them. They contained packets of candy and crackers, plus main dishes consisting of whitish glop and brownish glop. “What’s the difference?”
“Light is chicken, dark is beef,” Shane replied. “Or something.”
Catalina laughed and took the chicken. Or, more likely, something. Reluctantly, she stuck in her fork and took a bite. “Tastes exactly like it looks.”
Shane seemed more pleased with his meal. “Makes me feel like I’m back in the field.”
“Could you be a PJ again?” she asked. “I mean, once you get out of here?”
“No. There’s no going back.”
He didn’t explain further, but he didn’t seem to mind that she’d asked. For the rest of the meal and some time afterward, they traded stories of their jobs, of close calls and saved lives, and of pranks and silliness on their down time.
Fun hot bodyguard, she thought. I hope we can be friends once all this is over.
She tried not to think of it as a consolation prize. No matter how fascinating his stories were and how engaged she was in conversation, she couldn’t turn off her awareness of how sexy he was. Every time he moved, she was captivated by his power and grace. It was incredibly frustrating to be so close to him, to know that all she’d have to do to touch his warm skin was reach out her hand, and to be unable to do it.
Untouchable hot bodyguard, she thought. Wonder if you already have a girlfriend, or if you’re holding out for the perfect woman. Bet you bag a supermodel lawyer with a black belt in kung fu.