Page 3 of A Texas Hero

Twyla gaped. “You’re kidding.”

“My father has never met a statistic he can’t use to his advantage.” Zoey grabbed Twyla’s hands. “The stupid bodyguard is moving into my house and might still be here on Sweetheart Day! What am I going to do with a bodyguard at my party?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out.” Then, Twyla pointed at her as if she had the answer. “Maybe we can make him the official doorman.”

“Oh, yeah. That won’t look weird at all.” Zoey rolled her eyes.

“Well, maybe by Sweetheart Day Scott will have given up on you.”

But if he hadn’t given up by now, a couple of weeks probably wouldn’t make much of a difference.

Chapter Two

Archer Rossi’s foot hurt like hell, but he was still here at the appointed day and time of his ass-chewing. He’d sensed it coming like any alert soldier would. All the signs were there. Ian, his boss at Texas Executive Protection Management and head of the Houston Texas EP branch, wanted to see him. In his office. Yeah, maybe Archer had gone a little over-the-top on his first assignment, but he’d wanted to make a good impression. Instead, they’d pulled him off the job. With any luck, he wouldn’t be fired today. He needed this job, his first one since arriving stateside after retiring from the U.S. Army. It was important to prove he could still do the work required of him.

“You can go inside, Mr. Rossi.” The young assistant indicated the double solid oak doors. “He’s ready for you.”

Ian Jacobs, Regional Vice President read the nameplate on the door.

He was on the phone when Archer walked in, and waved for him to take a seat.

“Yes, sir. We’re on it. I’ll put my best man on the assignment.”

Two more seconds and Ian hung up and gazed at Archer with a disappointed look, which said it all: He was not Ian’s best man.

Archer cringed internally but told himself that was fine. He’d known he would have some adjusting to do when it came to the civilian world, but he hadn’t expected it to be this difficult. He’d dealt with his foot, but he’d also been mentally cleared and regularly attended private therapy sessions to deal with some minor PTSD. His job involved danger and protecting others from it. Archer had a heightened sense of danger due to his training, so the job seemed perfect. Executive management protection was high-level security usually reserved for heads of state, celebrities and other high-profile individuals. But in his desire to show he was as capable as the others, he’d been too zealous and made a mistake.

“Why do you think I called you in here, soldier?”

“To chew me out, sir,” Archer responded, and after a brief pause added, “But I am hoping you will not let me go.”

“I’m not going to let you go.” Ian shook his head. “You’re a good man and I meant what I said. You have a career here if you want it, but we’re going to have to find the best assignment to ease you into this.”

“Sir, please do not put me behind a desk.”

Part of the company focused on cybersecurity and assessing those threats; that wasn’t what he’d signed up to do. Archer wasn’t cut out for life behind a desk. He’d always been an adrenaline junkie and wanted to be on the front lines of any assignment. What’s more, he was still perfectly capable, even after the accident. Being put behind the desk, to Archer, meant he was finished. Useless. He didn’t see himself that way.

“No, that’s my job.” Ian said. “But you’re going to need to calm the hell down. You can’t do your job well if you view everything as a damn threat.”

Good point. Archer wasn’t sure how to respond to it. He took a second to compose himself before he spoke. Every once in a while, particularly when under duress, Archer found himself slipping back into a slight Italian accent. He’d speak haltingly, too formally, sounding as if English was his second language. Which it was, of course, but he’d been in this country since age twelve. He rarely spoke Italian anymore, and if not for his mother, he would have forgotten the little Italian he still remembered.

“In my defense, I did not know the man was her brother.”

“Yeah.” Ian closed his eyes, leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I gathered that.”

Archer had been part of a team involved with transporting a well-known reality TV celebrity who had received death threats, when a bulky man broke protocol and came at Archer’s client, hand in the jacket of his pocket.

It all happened so fast.

“Gun!” Archer had shouted, before throwing his body over the man, knocking him to the ground.

There were screams, ensuing chaos, the client was whisked away in a car and in due order Archer found out the man was pulling out a phone not a gun. Not only that, he was the client’s brother. Archer had imagined the gun; he’d preemptively acted and had done absolutely nothing to secure his client. If anything, he’d put her in danger by creating a huge distraction. Fortunately for him, the celebrity liked Archer. She’d convinced her brother not to sue him or the company and asked Ian to please not punish Archer, by pointing out that her brother could definitely be perceived as a threat. And though she’d wanted Archer back, the assignment was given to someone else.

“I get it,” Ian said. “It makes sense. You’re still adjusting. I think we might have put you in the middle of high-stakes action too soon. We’d just been raised to code orange, and the brother is huge, and he was coming at her suddenly. I spoke to the others and they all agreed. What I think you need is a little warm-up assignment. Something to show you where the real threats exist and don’t exist in the civilian world. I’ve got just the thing for you.”

“I appreciate this.”

“Are you familiar with the town of Charming? It’s a little beach town just south of Houston. About a thirty-minute drive or so, depending on traffic. I got a call from Patch Lambert.”