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“I do!” Lila’s face lights up, and she gets this dreamy look. “I used to compete, and I was pretty good at it until…”
Her smile fades, replaced by the downward curl of her lips.
“Until what?” I prod, lifting her face to me.
“Until Mom pointed out the cellulite in my thighs.” Her voice is soft, almost fragile. “She laughingly asked how I was swimming for hours and still looked the way I did.” Lila gives me a softsmile. “I’ve always had big thighs, even when I exercised and trained hard.”
“Wow, what an asshole comment.” The words are out before I realize, and I release a deep breath. “Sorry.”
“Are you?”
“Not really, no. Your mom’s … not nice. You’re her daughter. She shouldn’t say those things to you.”
“I know. Anyway!” Lila regains her spirit and smiles again, and it’s at that moment when I’m convinced I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure she’s happy all the time. “I need to try the pool.”
“By all means.”
“You don’t want to swim?”
“I’ll look out for you.”
She blows out a raspberry. “Then watch.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I take it out. It’s my handler. I called in a couple of favors earlier, and he’s the first to get back to me. It won’t be long before I have enough information on those men.
I sit on the lounger, texting and sending out emails, feeling the familiar rush of an upcoming mission. Multi-tasking has always been a strength of mine, so while I’m a hundred percent locked in on finding those assholes, I also continue to sneak glances at Lila from the corner of my eye.
And by God, what a vision.
She cuts through the water with effortless grace, her movements fluid, each stroke smooth and unhurried.
Lila isn’t just a good swimmer, but she also genuinely enjoys it. She’s in her element, at ease, and it shows. Her hair trails behind her, and it’s like fire on the water.
Finally, she surfaces, taking a deep breath, and her beautiful face breaks into a smile.
It’s good that last night’s attack hasn’t dimmed her spirit. If anything, that’s going to cut deeper. I like her fire, how quickly she adapts to things beyond her control, and how she tries to make the most out of everything.
Unlike me, Lila is an open book. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and her emotions are clearly written on her face.
No pretense.
No lies.
Just her.
Everything I’ve learned in the past twenty-four hours only draws me to her. She needs me to protect her, and since meeting her, I’m well aware that my priorities have changed.
In the space of a few hours, she has become the center of my universe.
I don’t know how or why, but my gut has never led me astray, and right now, it’s telling me that there’s only one place where I belong, and it’s beside her.
If I heard someone else say this—turning his life around for a woman—I would’ve scoffed. But they haven’t met Lila. Theyhaven’t seen her face darken with desire or turn beet red after coming.
They haven’t seen her smile or laugh.
“You should really lay off the scowling. You’re gonna get premature wrinkles.” Lila props her arms on the edge of the pool and rests her chin on them.
“I’m not scowling.” I wipe any expression on my face and keep it neutral.
