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3
She had a headache. Her hand was throbbing from the burn. And she was really wishing that she hadn’t freaked out like that around Xavier.
For as long as she could remember, she’d had a crush on the sexy doctor. He saw her as a sister, though.
She didn’t blame him for not being attracted to her. She wasn’t sexy. Or sane.
That seemed like something men might like. Someone who was sane. Right?
Kiesha was always saying that normal was overrated, but Juliet wasn’t so sure. Besides, while Kiesha might be a bit crazy, she was also outgoing and fun, and she could actually talk to people.
That sort of thing helped, you know?
He’d rejected her once a long time ago when she was feeling surprisingly brave and kissed him. It still hurt all these years later. She wouldn’t survive that rejection again.
Rubbing a hand over her face, she walked into the downstairs kitchen and opened the fridge, grabbing the cranberry juice she poured it into a glass. Her upstairs fridge was filled with iced coffee and water, but she had a craving for cranberry juice.
As she moved back towards the stairs, a buzzing noise frightened her.
She dropped the glass, which smashed on the ground, spilling juice everywhere. And she was standing in the middle of it, not wearing shoes.
“Crap. Crap. Crap.”
Buzz!
Shoot. Whoever was at the gate was impatient.
“Keep your pants on, buddy,” she snapped, feeling brave because she knew they couldn’t see or hear her. Or even get onto the property without her letting them in.
She didn’t want to let them in. She knew it had to be the security team that Reuben hired.
Buzz!
“Big girl panties, Juliet. It doesn’t matter that you don’t know them. Reuben sent them to protect you. They’re doing a job. That’s all. They don’t have to like you. You don’t have to like them.”
She nervously tapped her fingers against her thigh, feeling her stomach churn. She wished Xavier had stayed. Not that she blamed him for leaving. After all, she’d fallen asleep on him. He’d had to put her to bed.
It was embarrassing that he’d had to take care of her like that.
Her phone dinged with a text message. Shoot.
She checked the text message.
Unknown number:Miss Jackson, this is Brick Sampson from Sampson Security. Your brother hired us. We are at the gate and would appreciate you letting us in.
“This isn’t going to work. His texts are so formal. What if he’s like that in real life?”
She sent a text to Kiesha.
Juliet:Can you trust people who txt in a formal tone?
Kiesha: Nope. Serial killer. 4 sure.
Yep. That’s what Juliet thought too.
Switching to her email, she went through what Reuben had sent her.
Brenton Sampson. Forty-two. Ex-Marine. Owned his own security company. Reuben had included a photo. He had a muscular build. Short, dark hair and tanned skin. He was also frowning. He looked kind of grouchy and hard.
