Falling for the Bodyguard Read online

  Falling for the Bodyguard

  A Single Mom Romance

  Jean Oram

  Contents

  Books by Jean Oram

  Form the Back Cover

  A Note on Muskoka

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  More Books by Jean Oram

  About the Author

  Books by Jean Oram

  New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author

  * * * Get the latest news from Jean Oram and a free book: www.jeanoram.com/FREEBOOK * * *

  Summer Sisters

  * * *

  Falling for the Movie Star

  Falling for the Boss

  Falling for the Single Dad

  Falling for the Bodyguard

  Falling for the Firefighter

  * * *

  The Summer Sisters Series Starter Box Set (Books 1-3)

  Veils and Vows

  * * *

  The Promise (Devon and Olivia: a prequel)

  The Surprise Wedding (Devon and Olivia)

  A Pinch of Commitment (Ethan and Lily)

  The Wedding Plan (Luke and Emma)

  Accidentally Married (Burke and Jill)

  The Marriage Pledge (Moe and Amy)

  Mail Order Soulmate (Zach and Catherine)

  * * *

  Companion to the Veils and Vows and Blueberry Springs world ~ Indigo Bay!

  Sweet Matchmaker (Logan and Ginger)

  Sweet Holiday Surprise (Cash & Alexa)

  Sweet Forgiveness (Ashton & Zoe)

  Sweet Troublemaker (Nick & Polly)

  Blueberry Springs

  * * *

  Whiskey and Gumdrops

  Rum and Raindrops

  Eggnog and Candy Canes

  Sweet Treats

  Vodka and Chocolate Drops

  Tequila and Candy Drops

  * * *

  Companion to the series: Champagne and Lemon Drops (Also available in audio)

  * * *

  Blueberry Springs Series Starter Box Set (Books 1-3)

  Blueberry Springs: The Complete Series Box Set (Books 1-7)

  For the Kids

  1,001 Boredom Busting Play Ideas

  Full, up-to-date book list: www.jeanoram.com/books/

  Form the Back Cover

  One shattered war hero. One hippie. Two very unlikely sweethearts.

  * * *

  Evander de la Fosse believes he's only good for one thing: stopping bullets meant for others. But as war-torn hero Evander shadows single mother Daphne Summer he finds himself wishing for the one thing war took from him—a life worth living. Daphne, with her bright and upbeat disposition, possesses a pull on him he can't deny.

  * * *

  A believer in the power of love and destiny, Daphne figures fate must have a major wicked streak for sending her polar opposite—Evander, a well-armed bodyguard—into her life. She doesn't need him, nor does she want him or his military ways seeping into her world. She has a life to live, a daughter to raise, and a family cottage to save in less than two weeks. The last thing she needs is to get involved with another Mr. Wrong. But the steely-eyed, former military hunk refuses to leave her side, especially after a confrontation with the enemy, who has been stirred up by her sisters, ends in threats. Daphne, determined not to add fuel to the fight, tries to convince Evander to back down. But Evander knows Daphne needs him—needs him for more than just protection.

  * * *

  Will the two find a way to see eye-to-eye as well as heart-to-heart before the enemy can take them down? Find out in the fourth Summer Sisters book!

  Falling for the Bodyguard: A Single Mom Romance

  The Summer Sisters, Book 4

  * * *

  By Jean Oram

  * * *

  © 2015, 2019 Jean Oram

  Previously published as “Love and Danger”

  * * *

  Fourth Edition

  * * *

  www.jeanoram.com

  Thank you for downloading this ebook. Although in electronic form, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and it cannot be reproduced, modified, copied and/or distributed by any means for commercial or non-commercial purposes whether the work is attributed or not, unless written permission has been granted by the author, with the exception of brief quotations for use in a review of this work. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite online vendor where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support. Keep reading!

  All characters and events appearing in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, alive or dead, as well as any resemblance to events is coincidental and, truly, a little bit cool.

  ISBN: 978-1-928198-05-5

  0619

  A Note on Muskoka

  Muskoka is a real place in Ontario, Canada, however, I have taken artistic license with the area. While the issues presented in this book (such as water shed, endangered animals, heritage preservation, shoreline erosion, taxation, etc.) as well as the towns are real, to my knowledge, there is no Baby Horseshoe Island nor is there a Nymph Island, or a company called Rubicore Developments. The businesses and people are fictional, with the exception of The Kee to Bala, Duke’s Marina, Windermere House, the Segwun and Wenonah, as well as the character Jenni Walker--you can read about how she ended up visiting Muskoka with her family in the acknowledgements.

  * * *

  Muskoka is a wonderful area, full of small towns, pristine woods and lakes, where movie stars and other celebrities do vacation amongst us regular folks. Yet, having spent many summers in the area during my youth and adulthood, I have yet to see a single celebrity--though a man my family presumed to be Kurt Browning’s (a famous Canadian figure skating Olympian) father did offer to help me when the outboard fritzed out on me once. Darn outboard.

  * * *

  You can discover more about Muskoka online at www.discovermuskoka.ca/

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks goes to my readers the Jeansters for inspiring Evander. They requested a security, army hero who was wounded. I hope I did your request justice. (Don’t tell the other heroes of the Summer Sisters series but Evander ended up being my all-time favorite hero—I may have developed a bit of a crush on him.)

  * * *

  Special thanks also goes to Evelyn Adams, Margaret Carney, Angelique Luzader, Erin Dixon, and Emily Kirkpatrick.

  1

  Daphne Summer pulled her minivan down an unmarked, dead-end residential street in Port Carling, Ontario. She performed a quick U-turn and waited for the vehicle that had been following her while she did errands to come around the corner. Sure enough, the truck turned down the tree-lined road a minute later, slowing ever so slightly as its driver realized his error. As the Chevy rumbled past Daphne’s van, she made eye contact with the man behind the wheel.

  She knew that face. Evander de la Fosse.

  Turning the steering wheel, she blocked the road’s exit with her van. She got out, arms crossed, and waited for him to reach the end of the cul-de-sac and turn around. Grateful her five-year-old daughter was at a playdate with a friend, and not with her, Daphne prepared to give the man a piece of her mind.

  The truck stopped and Evander cut its engine. He rolled down his windo
w and licked his lower lip, resting one of his strong arms on the door as he leaned out to watch her.

  Not a word.

  The strong silent type, eh? Well, she had plenty of words to fill the silence. A bird whistled to her from an evergreen and the August breeze ruffled her cotton dress as she stomped up to the truck, feeling incredibly short as she gazed up to where the man was sitting.

  She put her hands on her hips, well aware she was anything but threatening to the former marine looking down at her with mild interest.

  “Evander de la Fosse, I presume?”

  She caught the minuscule flicker of surprise in his usually stoic features. “At your service,” he said with a brisk nod.

  “Funny, I don’t remember hiring you to tail me, and seeing as money’s rather tight at the moment, I’m confident I’d recall ordering a shadow as I run about to grab the mail and a few groceries.” Especially a man who represented everything she stood against.

  He said nothing.

  “So? At my service, huh?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Don’t call me ma’am.”

  “Yes, Miss Summer.”

  “My name is Daphne.”

  He was starting to look uncomfortable, which she figured was good.

  “So, being at my service would imply you are here to help?” She looked at him with big doe eyes.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” Her voice turned firm. “Kindly take a hike.”

  “A bit warm for that today,” he said, his eyes lifting to meet hers. He was so serious. Not even a hint of a smile, and his dark eyes held a hint of pain she figured must always be there.

  “Don’t get smart with me.” Five years as a single mother had reduced her patience for sass to somewhere near nonexistent.

  Evander’s lips twisted slightly as though he was fighting the urge to smile.

  “I know my meddling sisters and their billionaire hero boyfriends think I can’t take care of myself. Poor little Daphne. The clueless wonder who feels instead of thinks. But I can take care of myself. I don’t need you tailing me and freaking out my daughter.”

  He studied her, his plump lower lip disappearing under a row of perfect white teeth. Nope, not perfect. The front tooth had a triangle-shaped chip and scarring ran down from his right ear to his chin, partially hidden by five o’clock shadow. He was not a man best described by light and love. He was large, capable and everything manly stuffed into one muscular package of testosterone-driven sexiness.

  No, not sexiness. How could he be sexy? He was nowhere near her type. Then again, Daphne was used to men who claimed their lack of personal hygiene was a statement about their environmental beliefs rather than laziness. But this man right here knew his way around a washing machine and iron. His button-down shirt was as crisp as well-cooked bacon, and looked just as yummy fitted over his build.

  What was she thinking?

  She needed to get a grip. She was a mom. She didn’t have time for drooling over a man who would be nothing more than a thorn in her side. And Evander was definitely a thorn. A thorn who was returning her heat and interest in his own gaze. It was as though his eyes were refracting the scorching summer sun onto her skin.

  “What? What are you staring at?” she asked, shifting uncomfortably, wishing she could hide.

  Again he said nothing.

  “I know your type,” she said, trying to be angry with him and failing. “I will not feel ‘less than’ just because you think we’re in a staring contest.”

  “Okay.”

  She took a deep, cleansing breath and tried to channel joy and understanding for this man, who had obviously been broken during a battle somewhere.

  “Take the day off,” she said gently. “I don’t need a former marine as my stalker.”

  “I wasn’t a marine. I’m Canadian.”

  She frowned, thinking through past conversations, her internal mother-detects-a-fib early warning system blinking. “You tell everyone you were a marine—or so my sister Hailey told me.”

  “It’s easier.”

  “Than?”

  “Canadians don’t know what JTF 2 is.”

  “Right.” That was a good point, seeing as Daphne had no clue herself.

  “Joint Task Force 2?”

  She gave a shrug and he sent her a frustrated look, as though she should know this.

  “It’s like Britain’s SAS,” he prompted, and she shrugged again. “Special Ops. Always get the incredibly evil bad guys?” She gave another indifferent lift of her shoulder, enjoying how connected the movement seemed to be to his frustration level. “Coolest weapons? Top secret missions?”

  “So you’re a soldier?” she said simply.

  “Formerly.”

  “Great. Well, you can go. I don’t need a soldier following me.”

  “You’ve received threats,” he growled from his position in the truck, evidently at the end of his rope.

  “Not this again,” she grumbled. “My sisters totally overreacted.”

  Ever since Mistral Johnson, her daughter’s father, had popped out of the woodwork everything had gotten a bit crazy. Sure, he’d said unkind things to her sister Melanie yesterday, but her sister had just served the man with legal action and had put several massive blockades between him and his company’s planned resort. Of course he was going to blow his top. Who wouldn’t?

  But that didn’t mean Mistral was a monster. Daphne wouldn’t have spent an entire summer with him six years ago if he was. He was simply caught in a materialistic world, with unreal expectations placed on him by his father, and it was ripping him apart. She could help him, but acting afraid and having this brick wall of manhood standing between her and her life wasn’t going to help anything or anyone.

  “They did not overreact,” he said, his brows pinching down over his eyes.

  “Do you know Mistral?” When Evander didn’t answer, Daphne demanded, “Do you?”

  “No, ma’am,” he said, his tone brisk, as though he was addressing a commander. “Not personally.”

  “Well, I do. And it’s not ma’am. It’s Daphne.”

  “Yes, Daphne.”

  Speaking to this man was like trying to train a cat. Or herd a five-year-old who was scattered and lively and utterly exhausting. Daphne needed him to go away and stop following her. It had to be bad energy, having him shadow her because he thought something bad was going to happen. She shivered, hugging herself through her thin summer dress.

  “Mistral’s my ex, and believe it or not, he is a kind and gentle man. He’d never do anything to hurt me.”

  “Isn’t he trying to take your daughter away?”

  Daphne gave the ex-soldier a look. “My, you are a real snoop, aren’t you?”

  “It’s in the papers.”

  Right. She felt the familiar tightening in her chest. Her world was, quite simply, being upended like an unzipped purse, and given a shake to see what would fall out. She just needed to hang tight, think positively and let things unfold as they were destined to. The universe had a plan. She’d be okay.

  “Mistral is under pressure. I’ll talk to him soon.”

  “Soon?” Evander’s body tensed and she could feel the air around them turn electric. Wow. That man had some serious energy going on.

  She wanted to poke at him to get him to lighten up, but didn’t kid herself. The truck’s metal door between them was not protection; he could have that thing open and be out at her side, pulling her body against that tight, broad muscular build of his, in no time flat. Not that she wanted that. She might be hard up for a man, but she’d never be that desperate.

  “We’re going to discuss visitation.”

  “For Kim?” Evander’s voice was so low and gravelly it sent tremors down Daphne’s spine and between her legs in a way no other man’s ever had.

  “Yes. But everyone calls her Tigger.”

  “You should get a restraining order.”

  “Funny. Look at me laugh.”

 
Daphne shook her head at herself. Sarcasm was not positive and it wasn’t who she wanted to be.

  “Is she safe?” he asked.

  “Who? My daughter?” Realizing she was flapping her hands, Daphne stilled them. “I can take care of Tigger,” she said quietly. “And her dad would never hurt her.”

  “Tristen said Mistral Johnson tried to take her during a picnic.”

  Not this misunderstanding again. Daphne sighed, her heart hitching, throat closing as she spotted the worry in Evander’s eyes. She didn’t know if her reaction was due to him, a stranger, looking so concerned over her daughter’s welfare, or because she was letting the panic and fear of the situation slip into her mind.

  “She’s fine.” Daphne struggled to keep her voice level.

  “Abductions are more common than you think.”