“But he didn’t.” Cash squeezed my hand. “I knew what I was doing.”
“Because it’s your job?” Apparently, despite what I’d said, I wasn’t done being angry and hurt. “Detective McIntyre said you told the other cop that you weren’t my official bodyguard but that you were doing a favor to Duncan.”
Making a frustrated noise, Cash pulled his hand away. “You know this is a hell of a lot more than that, but I figured neither of us needed your love life dragged through the media.”
He wasn’t wrong. And I’d gone around and around on this point all afternoon. I didn’t want Cash outed before he was ready, and I also really didn’t want to see how the media would spin it as a lover with a temper, moving Cash from hero to footnote in the latest Danny Love incident.
“I suppose trained bodyguard plays better than angry boyfriend.” The hurt in my voice was replaced by a calm resignation. “And maybe it would be easier if it were accurate anyway.”
“How do you figure?”
“I meant what I said back at the cabin. You’re safe with me. I’m not going to out you to Duncan or the press or anyone else.” I might have been momentarily disappointed, but I wasn’t truly angry about what he’d said. And he’d given me an opening to say what I’d been trying to earlier before my lawyer had called. “Also, much as I hate it, I do need security. Let me hire you for real.” I leaned forward, warming to my big idea. “You can be my bodyguard or security chief. However you want to spin it. Then what we do in private can remain private. But you could stay.”
Stay. That was the real key there. He could stay. If it took making myself a job to make that happen, I’d swallow my pride. Whatever it took to keep him with me.
“Danny.” Groaning, Cash flopped back against the couch, head tipping back. “I can’t let you hire me.”
“Sure you can.” I forced my tone to stay cheery and bright. Maybe he simply needed some convincing to see what a good plan this was. “Trust me. I have money. Duncan’s gonna make me hire someone. Why not you?”
“Because I don’t want to be your bodyguard.”
“Oh.” And with that, the bottom dropped out of my universe, all my hope escaping in a single breath.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Cash
Danny was pissed. But being Danny, he wasn’t about to show it.
“Fine. That’s fine. I understand.” He was off the couch and heading to the kitchen before I could tell him that, actually, he didn’t understand a thing about what I was saying or why.
“Danny.” Hauling myself off the couch, I trailed after him.
“You should rest.” He gestured back at the couch. “I need water. I can bring you some. And I should see if I have soda. Harley drank soda at Duncan’s.”
“What you should do is talk to me.” I was trying hard not to lose patience. He was doing the rambling thing he did when nervous, and I took a seat at the breakfast bar, attempting to give off calming vibes I didn’t entirely feel.
“Why?” Pausing at the pantry door, he blinked at me, big Bambi alone in the forest eyes. “I understand. You don’t want to stay.”
“I’m staying,” I all but growled. Maybe that would get through to him.
“Tonight? Of course. You’re not going anywhere with your arm like that.”
Or not. Clearly, he was invested in being denser than drywall. I groaned, but he plowed ahead as he rummaged in his pantry. “Maybe when I get my new place, you can visit though? Even if you don’t want the job?”
“Of course, I’ll visit.” That he thought that was up for debate showed what a clusterfuck this day had been.
“Good.” His smile was far too brittle to be real as he held up two bottles of different flavors of sparkling water. “Think this counts as soda? No, right?”
“Harley once gave me his last half of a hydration pack because I was overheating. It was days-old water at that point and disgustingly warm. Trust me, he’s not going to care about flavors.”
“Oh, right. I keep forgetting how much you have been through. Today was probably nothing for you.” Setting the waters down, he waved a hand. “What was it you called the easy assignments? Cupcakes?”
“This isn’t a cupcake assignment.” Irritation charged into my voice despite my efforts to hold it back. I couldn’t stay seated either. Standing, I stepped toward him, but he swiveled to open the cupboard with plates.
“Ah. Well, I certainly don’t mean to be difficult.” His tone had the sort of charm that undoubtedly worked on others but only succeeded in placing me even more on edge.
“You’re not.” I had a feeling we were having two different conversations, and I had no clue how to fix it. He seemed hell-bent on shoving me away and had ever since I’d emerged from my hasty clean-up job in his bathroom. I fetched three glasses from the cabinet closest to me, needing to be useful. My whole right arm ached every time I bent it, which was the main reason I’d been okay with Harley staying. I wasn’t going to be much use for shooting or fighting for a few days. I handed the glasses over and waited silently while Danny filled them with ice. Maybe we needed a change in topic. “Is it really almost your birthday?”