Forgotten Bodyguard Box Set: A Forbidden Fruit Series Page 2

  Growing up in the sunny beach city and being the daughter of the most-loved Senator in Cali history left me more popular than I wanted to be. I played the part well, but I was as fake as a California tan on an Alaskan cheerleader.

  I heaved my last bag over my shoulder and walked down the hall to the long staircase that led to the first floor of the house. Having been the longest-standing member in the Sigma Kappa's, I got to choose my bedroom for the spring semester. I took the smallest one, simply for the fact that it had a great view of the outdoor track. All the boys in the shorty shorts would run each morning as I got ready for school. Nothing to get you in the mood to study like watching men who took care of themselves huff around in something shorter than undies.

  I smiled at the thought and jogged down the final few stairs as my least favorite sister, Lizzy, opened the door.

  "Who's going to have a great summer? You are! That's who." She smiled and flipped her arms around as if holding pom-poms. I had no clue why we had let a cheerleader into the Sigma's, but we did. I was the only vote against her, which should have left me feeling like an ass, but I just couldn’t muster it. Someone who was happy-happy-happy all the time was a damn lie.

  "Thanks, Lizzy. Have fun." I walked out into the lazy day, the sun sitting at the far end of the sky.

  It was going to be a great summer. I had absolutely nothing planned other than a week-long vacation with my father. He was going on the campaign trail and wanted me with him when he went to New Hampshire for a festival. Something about showing family values and such. It would make him look good, which would keep him busy like he had been all my life. I accepted his absence simply because there was no other option.

  I walked to the bright red beamer at the far end of the parking lot and dropped my bag by the trunk, letting out a long sigh and waving at a few of the basketball guys who called out my name.

  "A whole summer of just being me and no one else. No having to fake anything if I don’t want to. How fucking cool is that?" I opened the trunk and heaved the bag into the back of the car, smooshing it down on top of the other bags. I hated to pack up my whole room, but not knowing who was staying in the house for summer school, I just wasn't willing to leave my stuff laying around for anyone to take.

  My phone chirped in my purse as I walked to the front of the car and got in. I started it and rolled down the windows before pressing a button on my dash to use the hand’s free device. My father would be proud, maybe. Probably not.

  "Hi Dad." I pulled my sunglasses from the visor above me and turned as I backed the car out of my assigned parking spot.

  "Hi pumpkin. Where are you? I'm back in town and hoped we were sharing a meal today. Is that still the case or are you standing me up like you’ve been known to do before?"

  "No, Dad. I’m not standing you up.” I stifled a sigh. “I'll be in San Diego around four. Are you here in L.A. or already there?"

  "I'm down in La Jolla at a beach house for a few days. Just call me when you get into town and I'll take you to dinner."

  "Okay. Did your flight go okay? Nothing else happen lately, right?" I pulled the car out onto the busy side street just outside of UCLA. Students swarmed the campus as everyone prepared to leave for the summer, or mostly everyone. I couldn’t imagine staying and taking more classes. Where my father would be thrilled with the option, I was almost brain dead and needed a recharging badly.

  "No, honey. I'm fine. It was just a one-off situation. Stop worrying." He chuckled and I tried to release the anxiety that seemed to be part of my new life. My father had decided to run for President, and the world went ape shit. Most of the constituents in California seemed pleased with his decision, but there were always a few crazies. Funny how they kept showing themselves in various manners. The last one had pulled a gun at an open-air concert a few weeks back, and I still had nightmares of my father bleeding out on the stage. It was a good thing I wasn’t there, though I should have been. Guilt riddled my insides as I tried to shove my thoughts aside.

  The fact of the matter was that he was all I had left in the world, which wasn't saying too much.

  "All right. I'm gonna let you go. I'll see you soon, Daddy."

  "Okay, baby. Be careful. I have some news to share with you when we meet. I think you'll be pleased, or at least I hope you will be."

  I saved my huff for after we got off the phone. His precursor to the news meant that he expected me to be pleased. He didn’t think or hope. He expected. He always had.

  His surprises were never a good thing. He was single minded and his success held his attention for the entirety of my life. Anything he thought might be exciting or good usually had to do with protecting or promoting his assets, namely himself.

  I cranked up the radio and let my concerns fly out the open windows of my convertible beamer. All I wanted was a Honda, but my father refused, his gifts the main means for him to show his love. He hadn't figured out in the past twenty-one years how to simply say that he loved me with words, so he felt the need to show me with tangible items.

  My favorite song came on the radio and I sang at the top of my lungs, ignoring the stares and odd glances I received as I jumped on highway five and gunned it all the way back home. San Diego was my paradise and the beach was my playground. I planned on diving into lust and intoxication and not coming up for air unless I was forced to.

  "Welcome to summer, Chloe. Welcome to summer."

  Chapter 2

  Ian

  I lifted my eyes to the pretty waitress who paused beside me and my friends at the bar, her hair half blond and half red. She could be the joker’s girl, but I didn't press my luck by telling her. Number one rule of getting fucked up was to make the hot piece serving your beer happy... even if you had to lie, which we did more often than not.

  "Can I get you boys another round?" She winked at me and I nodded, as if I might be interested. I wasn't. Girls could sit on it and rotate. I'd fuck a bitch every once in a while, but I'd had my heart torn out so many times when I was younger that I had a flap on my chest to save me the cost of stitches.

  "Yeah. This one's on me, I guess." My brother walked up and pulled a seat up beside me.

  I reached over and patted his back, smiling. "Tough day at the office, old man?" I lifted an eyebrow and expected to have him start his rant about how half the guys they’d hired weren’t worth a shit.

  "Naw, Cindy is on her period and just won't relent. So not only am I not getting laid, but she’s mean like a fucking snake. It’s a great combination." Cole rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his blond hair. The roots were starting to show his true colors and even though I shouldn't, I just couldn't help myself.

  "Yeah, well, maybe if you'd just be your fucking self." I tugged at a small pinch of hairs on the side of his head as he popped my arm away. There was no way I was pouring salt in the wound and bringing to light the fact that his hair was turning prematurely grey as well.

  "Fuck off. Blonds have an easier time in life. I'm just trying to get mine." He smirked and turned to the other guys, clapping hands and greeting everyone.

  It was a tradition to meet at Billy's in Ocean Beach on Sunday afternoons and spend a few hours getting shit faced together. Most people did it on Friday's, which meant that Sunday evenings at the bar were open wide and the beer was free flowing. No crowded rooms or bitches dry humping my leg. It was bliss, and it was mine.

  "How's the hospital gig going? Still trying to score a night with the hot doctor in OBGYN, or did you finally give up? I mean, the woman obviously loves pussy, and that’s one thing you ain’t got, brother." Cole turned to me before picking up the cup of peanuts on the table in front of us.

  “Fuck you too. I ain’t the only one from what you just said.” I reached out and jerked the peanuts from him. "Don't eat those. Pinkie washed them off for anyone who was interested."

  Cole glanced at our buddy Pinkie as he wagged his eyebrows and pretended to swish something in his big-ass mouth. I laughed as Cole
gagged. He was called Pinkie for a reason, the fucker had twenty tats and every damn one of them was pink.

  "Answer my question about the job, man." My brother pulled out his phone and turned it on silent before looking up at me and tilting his head a little.

  "It's a job, dude. I'm glad to have it, but it’s hard work for little pay. It’s boring as fuck most nights. Nothing happens in a hospital at night but a bunch of old bastards forgetting where they are and walking around naked. You ever seen an old man’s balls? It ain’t pretty. I’ve lost hope in being sexy after fifty."

  “Fifty? Fuck, Ian. You ain’t sexy now. Someone should tell you and help you get over the lie.” Pinky picked up a peanut and flicked it at me.

  I caught it and popped it in my mouth just to get a reaction. They all grimaced and turned away as I chuckled. It was good to be around the guys. Sundays were my favorite days of the week by far.

  One of the guys in the group started bitching about his girl and I stood up, stretching and turning to look back at Cole. "Let's go out on the patio. The sun's about to set and I want to see it."

  "You’re such a pussy." Cole stood and took our beers from the waitress before handing me mine and walking out on the deck beside me. A few girls sat to our left, the gaggle of them seeming to take notice of us, but my attention was on the big guy next to me.

  "I'm going to start putting in applications for something a little less hectic and more dangerous I guess. My job’s either boring as shit, or a hot mess because of the crazy fuckers that get brought in on meth or cocaine or some other fucked-up drug. Those guys are constant and the hospital has to treat them, but it's me who has to hold them down half the time while they're vomiting, shitting themselves and twitching half to death. As sad as it is, I’d rather be in a full on panic due to them than sitting on my ass in the cardiology wing, guarding the dying from the living."

  Cole shook his head, the look of disgust on his face a mirror to my feelings. "That's not good. I think I might have something if you're interested."

  "Yeah? Why didn't you say something earlier?" I pushed my shoulder against his as I turned to glance out at the water. The beauty of the sunset pulled me from the moment, but it wasn’t the time to get starry-eyed. I needed a fresh start, something more fitting for my stage and station in life. I wanted to be like Cole without the responsibility and wife. Wait… I was already.

  "It's not exactly your kinda job and honestly, I don't think you'll take it, but it’s high stakes. It's security detail." He took a long drink of his beer as I growled.

  "I'm down, depending on the money and who I'm detailing." I followed suit and emptied half the bottle before taking a breath.

  A blond moved in between us, her friends watching with anticipation from the large table just a few feet from us.

  "Hi. I'm Sandy."

  "Hi, Sandy. I'm talking with my brother right now. How about when we're done, I come talk to you and your friends and see who's up for a little late night wrestling?" I nodded at her, putting on my best ‘come fuck me’ smile.

  Her eyes widened and she giggled, the beer having done half the work for me. "Oh, yeah sure. That sounds... hot."

  "Good. Now run along and tell your friends you have plans to bend over for the big guy with all the tats later." I popped her butt and she giggled again, running toward her table as they erupted in laughter.

  "Why did you have to give the poor girl hope?" Cole turned and looked out at the water. "I swear you're going to get payback from your disrespect of women when you have a daughter."

  "Firstly, I'm not having kids, and secondly, she wanted what I gave her. A bit of juicy gossip and nothing else."

  "You're going to take her home and fuck her, no doubt." Cole lifted the beer to his lips and turned toward the women as they continued to get louder.

  "Sure. Why not? I'm an ass-grown man and a release might do me good. I've been a bit tense lately."

  "Masturbate." Cole turned back to me. "You're not good with fucking and leaving. You'll fall in love and the floozy will break your heart."

  "You make me feel like the tender flower that I am."

  Cole laughed loudly and lifted his beer toward mine. "The job's protection detail for Senator Moore's college-aged daughter. She's home for the summer and he's concerned with her being here in San Diego. He's looking for someone that he can trust to stay with the girl twenty-four seven."

  "With no days off? Fuck no."

  "You'd get Sundays off. He actually asked me about you applying for the job."

  "Me?" I jerked back as surprise rushed through me. "Why in the world would he ask about me? Has he not seen my rap sheet?"

  "Yeah, he actually has, but you saving his ass at the event a few weeks back gave you his nice shiny seal of approval. His only concern was whether you would try and hit on the girl."

  I snorted and tapped my beer bottle against the railing in front of us as the sun began to set. The sky burst into crimson and dark yellows, stealing my breath for a minute and causing me to forget where I was.

  "Did you hear me?" Cole popped me in the arm with his empty bottle.

  "About hitting on the girl?"

  "Yeah. I told him not to worry."

  "Good. There's nothing to worry about. I'm not interested in bleeding for anyone for a long time." I shrugged. "I'm sure she's as fake as the rest of these chicks that snuggle up to me every time I leave the house."

  "It's the big bad-ass sign you have tattooed to your fucking forehead."

  I brushed my hand along my face and forced my brow to contract.

  "Me? Naw... I'm as sweet as a kitten. Speaking of pussy’s..." I finished my beer and leaned over, pointing to the busty blond who had approached us moments ago. "Sandy... come here baby. Let's get our night started."

  "Oh fuck. You're not really gonna..." Cole stood up and turned to me.

  "I am. How much is the gig?"

  "It's for the entirety of the summer and it's around ten grand a month."

  My jaw dropped. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

  That was three times what I was making at the hospital. I could work all summer and take the fall off completely. That would really give me time to find the right job.

  "Yeah. You want an interview?" Cole moved back as Sandy slipped in between us and snuggled up to the front of me.

  "Yeah. I want in." I glanced down at the girl, winking as she giggled at the hidden meaning behind my words.

  My brother lifted his hand and gave me a look.

  I shook it and glanced down at the girl. "Where you wanna do this, baby?"

  "How about at your place?" She slid her hands up my chest, purring like a cat.

  "Naw... how about the women's bathroom as you walk into the bar? It's a single room with a lock." I leaned down and brushed my nose along her cheek, breathing in.

  She smelled good and a quick fuck wouldn't hurt anyone.

  "Yeah," she whispered and turned, capturing my lips with hers.

  I meant as much to her as she meant to me. Absolutely nothing.

  “Really? Shit.” My brother turned and walked toward the bar as I leaned down and brushed my nose by hers. She was cute, and would most certainly do a good job of waxing my cock for half an hour.

  “Oh yeah. Really.” I grabbed her hand and moved us into the bar, hoping like hell I could keep the good guy in my head asleep long enough to enjoy myself. He’d been a pain in the ass far too many times lately, and something told me that tonight wouldn’t be much different.

  Chapter 3

  Chloe

  The beach house in La Jolla was a bit much, but my father always did go off the deep-end in gift giving. I unpacked slowly, taking my time and ignoring the constant buzz of my phone. It was the group of girls I went to high school with, most of them friends with me simply because it gave them status and something to brag about.

  A soft sigh left me as I finished putting everything up. The big house was still basically empty after I unpacked. I should have invi
ted some of the girls from UCLA to come down with me. There were two or three bedrooms, but each had multiple beds in them. It was going to be too quiet at night, and after watching horror movies all my life, I was sure to come up with a million ways to die by the end of the first night. It was an obsession I needed to get over.

  I checked the refrigerator to see that my father had paid someone to come pack it with all of my favorites. My childhood rushed past me, sickening me as it always did. All those years of growing up with nothing more than nannies and butlers to raise me. With enough snacks and presents dropped sporadically around the house I was supposed to be okay with not having a father.

  "He couldn't handle anything after mom died," I spoke quietly, the sound of my own voice comforting. It was the only consistent voice in my life.

  Picking up the phone, I dialed his number and swallowed the sadness that always seemed to sit at the edge of my world.

  "Pumpkin. You here?"

  "I am. Where are we meeting?" I picked the sticker off of a t-shirt that sat on the counter, a big card that said 'welcome home' on it. Another gift. Great.

  “I’ll be there shortly.” He dropped the call, thrusting me into silence again.

  “Right. See you soon,” I mumbled sarcastically and walked around the beach house until a horn honked outside.

  I grabbed my phone from the counter and called him. “Is that you outside?”

  "Yes. I'm sitting in the driveway of the beach house. Come on out and we'll go to that steak house you like that hangs over into the sea."

  "Sounds good. Be right out." I hung up and walked to the bathroom, dragging a brush through my long blond hair. I was a hot mess thanks to riding all the way from L.A. with the windows down. My father would comment on my appearance if I didn't spruce it up a little. Some days he seemed more willing to marry me off than simply have a real conversation that didn't revolve around my school or his career.