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“A chocolate chip cookie.” He waved the package under her nose.
“Mr. Nelson, as much as I hate to admit it...” Londyn heaved an exaggerated sigh, “you’re absolutely correct. I can be swayed. But not for anything less than a chocolate chip cookie.”
“Let’s be clear...I don’t have to put a pickle on my burger to be with you?”
She shook her head. “Not if you come bearing gifts involving chocolate chips.”
He tore open the package, extracted a cookie and held it out. “And they said she couldn’t be bought.”
“In a heartbeat.” She plucked the cookie from his hand and sank her teeth into it.
Nash’s eyes narrowed, the corners of his lips twitching as if he were holding back a smile. “Aren’t you supposed to finish your meal before you jump right into dessert?”
“I’m a firm believer in having dessert first,” Londyn said as she chewed.
Nash grinned. “Obviously.”
“Given the attempts on my life,” Londyn said, “I might not make it to dessert.”
Nash’s grin disappeared. He reached for her hand and held it in his. “I’m going to do everything in my power to see that you make it to dessert.”
She stared down at the hand holding hers. It was such a simple touch, yet it was like dropping a lit torch into a huge box of fireworks.
Her heart raced, her pulse pounded so loudly in her ears as to be deafening and every nerve exploded, sending a cacophony of messages zinging to her brain.
“You have my promise,” he added. Then he removed his hand from hers and lifted his pickle-less burger to his lips.
Londyn sat for a few moments longer, her brain trying to process the assault on her senses.
Was she so starved for affection that all a man had to do was hold her hand, and she’d forget her name or how to breathe?
No.
Not any man.
Hank had held her hand in his, and nothing had happened to make her lose her mind.
Nash was the only man who’d ever set her body and her world spinning out of control with a simple touch.
And frankly, it scared the shit out of her.
CHAPTER 8
Nash ate the burger, although he didn’t really taste it. When Londyn had joked about not making it to dessert, her words had hit too close to home.
They’d been teasing about the criteria a man had to meet to be with Londyn. He’d insisted all he needed on a burger was meat and a bun. But it was more than that.
Her insistence on pickles made him want to go back to the table with the pickles and pour the entire container onto his damned, meat-only burger. Only then would he prove he could rise to her bar, and they could be together, according to her standard.
But could they?
He shoved the last of his burger into his mouth, chewed and swallowed the evidence that could eliminate him as a potential candidate for Miss Tyler-Lovejoy’s interest.
It didn’t matter that his hamburger preference was different than hers. What did matter was that he was only the employee—there to protect the movie star client.
He hadn’t counted on the movie star being so...exotically beautiful, independent and courageous.
She was nothing like what he’d expected. He’d built up in his mind a spoiled actress, imagining sabotaged props to get attention from her celebrity mother. He’d thought this was more a job of babysitting a spoiled little rich girl with nothing more dangerous than fans invading her personal space.
