Chapter 21

Twenty-One

Roc

The wind whipped a loose strand of hair into my eyes, and I uncrossed my arms long enough to tuck it back in my messy man bun. I didn’t mind the cold wind, or the fact that I was standing post outside Harlowe’s trailer or that I’d rarely seen her since we arrived at the location shoot. All of that was preferable to the torture of being around her but unable to talk to her, touch her, hold her.

I let loose a low growl and squeezed my hands into fists. Harlowe had been surrounded by her agent or makeup artists or production assistants since the moment we stepped from the limo. It was as if the entire set was conspiring to keep her busy and surrounded by people.

But maybe it wasn’t the people on set. Maybe it was Harlowe.

We’d never spoken about what had happened between us. It was like we’d stepped from the motel room, and the past had been erased. The plane incident wasn’t mentioned, the broken-down truck wasn’t mentioned, the cheesy honeymoon suite wasn’t mentioned. If I didn’t remember it all in garish color, I might even believe I’d imagined it.

My gaze was unflinching as a gaggle of extras passed by, casting furtive glances at Harlowe’s trailer and at me. Harlowe might not be talking, but that hadn’t stopped the entire set from whispering about her near-death experience and the orc bodyguard who saved her. Their words. Not mine.

I suspected that Grant was the architect of the dramatic story, primarily because there was no mention of his starlet staying in a run-down motel in the same room as her bodyguard. In the revised telling, Harlowe miraculously survived the plane crash because I shielded her, and then Grant materialized almost instantly, and whisked us all away in his stretch limousine. It wasn’t a bad story, even if it did make him into a bit of a hero, and it had the advantage of not having The Velvet Cloak Inn as a backdrop.

Harlowe’s agent hadn’t told me not to mention anything about the motel. He didn’t need to. I’d been providing security to celebrities for long enough to know that discretion was paramount. No one would ever hear a detail of my time protecting Harlowe. Not from my lips.

I stole a look at the closed trailer door and wondered if I’d get more than a brief glance and nod today. For the past two days, Harlowe had treated me exactly like a starlet is expected to treat a bodyguard. She’d pretended I wasn’t there. With all the eyes on her, I understood. It was one thing to have an orc bodyguard. It was another to be involved with him.

But were we involved?

I didn’t have time to debate this with myself as a wiry production assistant hurried up to me with a clipboard shoved under one arm and a pen between his teeth. He barely glanced up from his phone when he reached me. “We need Harlowe in 10, but Regina is out sick, and I have to get Tad as well, and he’s going to take some cajoling.” He released a long-suffering sigh. “Could you get her to set?”

I didn’t know who Regina was, but I did know that Tad was the male lead and that he had a problem sleeping through his call times because he popped too many Ambiens. Harlowe might not be talking to me, but that didn’t mean the hairstylists, prop masters, and gaffers didn’t share gossip at craft services. Even the crafties handing out sandwiches and drinks had been sharing tales of Tad’s pill-popping.

“Well?” He finally dragged his gaze from his phone and met my eyes, cowering slightly and softening his demanding tone. “Could you?”

I unfolded my arms and gave a single nod. “I’ll make sure she’s there. Good luck with the other one.”

The PA rolled his eyes and managed a weak laugh. “Thanks. I might end up needing you to get him there, too.”

He scurried off, and I turned to the trailer that I hadn’t entered since we’d first been walked to it and Harlowe had allowed me to do a brief safety search before I was shown my own nearby trailer. I hesitated for a beat before walking up the steps and rapping on the door.

“Yes?” Her voice from inside was muffled.

“You’re needed on set in 10,” I said through the thin metal door before turning to return to my post.

The door swung open before I could descend the stairs, and Harlowe looked exasperated as she waved me inside. She was still in her costume from the morning’s scenes, which meant she was dressed in a fuzzy, Christmas sweater. “You don’t have to stay out there in the cold.”

I followed her inside, confused as she closed the door behind me. Did she not know I’d been standing point outside her trailer for two days? Hadn’t she seen me each time she’d left and returned? “You don’t want me inside with you.”

She huffed at this statement but didn’t deny it. “It’s not about what I want. Don’t you get it?”

I pivoted to stand in front of the door as she strode as far as she could get from me in the narrow trailer. “I guess I don’t get it.”

She threw her arms wide. “We’re on a movie set with hundreds of crew and a bunch of costars who would love to knock me down a peg or two despite the fact that we’re supposed to be filming a heartwarming, holiday movie. They know I just broke up with my co-star. They can’t see me hooking up with my bodyguard.”

“Is that what you think we would be?” An unreasonable flash of irritation pulsed through me. “A hook-up?”

She dragged her red-polished nails through her hair. “I don’t know what we would be, but I do know what people would think and how people would talk. I’m sorry, Roc, but I just can’t deal with any more bad publicity right now. Not on top of all the crazy threats.”

My irritation faded as quickly as it had erupted. My job was to protect Harlowe, and that included from online threats, bad press, and even from myself. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m here to keep you safe. No one will hurt you, I promise.”

The tension seemed to drain from her body, and she smiled at me. “Thank you. I might not have told you enough, but I am glad you’re here. You’re the only one I know I can trust.” She practically launched herself at me, wrapping her arms around my middle and squeezing with startling strength. “Just knowing you’re here makes all the crap bearable.”

As surprised as I was by her embrace, I slowly curled my arms around her and allowed her to sink into me. If I wasn’t careful, Harlowe switching from ignoring me to embracing me was going to give me a wicked case of whiplash. But I knew that there was no being careful when it came to her. I would gladly suffer any succulent pain she dished out and hungrily return for more.