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"You guys want an upgrade?" he'd asked us, after saluting and offering an "ooh-rah." He and his wife were insistent that we take their seats, and though we'd said no several times, they finally got their way and I wasn't unhappy about it.
Thanks to that man, I found myself sitting in a restaurant next to America's most famous movie star a year later, wondering how things could have changed so much. The woman beside me was gorgeous and sweet, bright green eyes and honey-blond hair complementing what felt like a genuinely kind personality. Juliet Manchester had me a little bit star struck, but mostly I was happy to have found a job. I was a world away from the war zone where I'd spent a big part of my life and maybe left a little piece of myself—thankfully nothing I couldn't live without.
The star's manager was there, and so was the rest of her security detail. I'd just been brought on board, and I couldn't pretend it was an everyday thing for me. Security was new. It was the job that had been offered when I'd followed up with the former Marine who'd given up his seat to me. It was his firm.
Since I hadn't finished my degree yet, I was interested. I could work as a bodyguard while I focused on my education.
Make some money while I got myself right.
I just didn't expect any of what happened next.
Chapter One
Juliet
"Ihate these guys," Zac had always said about my ever-present security detail from the moment we began dating. But Zac Stephens, the man I was dumb enough to marry, probably hated pretty much everything about me. Maybe he only pretended to love me. I knew he loved what I could give him.
When filming wrapped early for the day and I got home earlier than usual, hoping to surprise Zac with a quiet dinner at home. I nodded at the security guards stationed at the driveway as I parked, and made my way to the kitchen door, fumbling my phone and car keys as I pushed the door open.
I walked into my familiar kitchen with its stark white tile and gleaming marble counters, and it took a few minutes for the scene before me to make sense. My husband was bent over, face-first in something our personal chef Maribella was offering him. Something that had definitely not been on any of the menus she’d shared with me.
Our personal chef was on her back on the huge marble island, her legs spread wide as Zac’s head bobbed between her thighs, and her throaty moans turned quickly to high-pitched shrieks of alarm when she spotted me staring at them from the doorway.
"Seriously? On my kitchen island?" I yelled, as if the location of the act made it any more awful than the act itself.
My furious shouts brought Jace and Jack inside immediately, and I watched, open-mouthed, as they hauled both Zac and Maribella outside and left them there. Jace swiped their discarded clothing off the floor and counter and tossed it out before following them out. Jack stayed with them, evidently supervising their efforts at dressing themselves in the driveway, and Jace came back inside to see if I was all right.
I wasn't. I definitely wasn't.
He found me where I'd sunk to the kitchen floor, crying pitifully with my head in my hands.
"Hey." His quiet deep voice broke through my humiliation and misery. I looked up to find deep concerned chocolate brown eyes watching me thoughtfully.
Jace reached a hand down to me and I took it. The firm solidity of his big hand was reassuring, and I realized numbly that if Zac had walked in and found me crying on the kitchen floor at any point in our marriage, he would have told me to get up before asking what was wrong or reaching out a hand to me.
I had been so stupid.
"You okay?" Jace asked once I was on my feet again. He stayed close enough to make sure I was steady, but took a step back, clearly not wanting to crowd my space. He was handsome, strong, and he projected an air of quiet confidence.
I shook my head. "No. I'm not okay. I’m an idiot." I dropped both hands onto the counter before realizing with horror that was the very surface on which I'd just caught my husband with the chef. I whipped them away, crossing my arms over myself instead. "God, I'm so stupid."
"Hey." Jace caught my attention again with a low patient voice. "You're not. He's the asshole here."
I blew out a breath. "I don't think it's the first time."
Jace lifted a shoulder.
I squinted up at him. "Do you know? Has he done this before?" I would hate to think of the security team knowing my husband was cheating on me, knowing I didn’t know. I would feel like even more of a fool than I already did.
He shrugged. "Not that I know of. But he's an asshole, so I wouldn't put it past him."
"Thanks a lot." I rolled my eyes, wiping at the angry tears that had collected on my cheeks. "You could have told me."
He smiled, wide full lips parting to reveal teeth that were perfect except for one chip at the corner of the top front. "Tell you that your husband is a choad? Not part of the job description, Miss Manchester."
"God, call me Juliet. You've known me at least a year now.” I sat down heavily on one of the stools, motioning to the other and feeling happier by a fraction when Jace sat down beside me. I felt like such an idiot. I wanted to make sure I’d never be this clueless again. "Make me a deal?"
"What's that?"
