Montana SEAL by Elle James Page B

seen every one of your movies. You have a gift.”
    Her cheeks heated, and she smiled. “Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you.”
    “Why me?”
    “I could always count on you to tell me the truth. If you didn’t like the movie, you’d tell me.”
    “Sometimes, I could be painfully honest.”
    “Like the time you told me you didn’t like me wearing braids—that it made me look like a little girl.”
    He grinned. “I didn’t feel right kissing you. It made me feel like a pervert. Besides, you are so much sexier with your hair down around your shoulders. Like it is now.” He reached across the table and lifted a strand of her hair. It felt natural to touch Sadie’s. He’d always been casual with his hands and quick to give a caress. Time hadn’t changed that. And she didn’t seem to mind. “If anything, you’re even more beautiful than you were in high school, though you were pretty damned gorgeous then.”
    Her cheeks flushed a soft pink. “Thank you.”
    They spent the rest of their meal eating in silence. When they left the diner, Hank exited first. He checked both directions, looking for the cameraman, Sadie’s agent or anyone else who might cause problems. When he was convinced the coast was clear, he held the door for her.
    Sadie shook her head. “You take your job seriously.”
    “Your life is serious business.” He rested a hand at the small of her back, telling himself it was to keep her close. So wrapped up in the warmth of her body against his hand, he forgot about the curb and nearly fell. Though he caught himself before tumbling, the jolt sliced pain through his injured leg and he winced.
    Sadie reached for his elbow. “Are you okay?”
    Hank straightened, pushed back the pain and the urge to curse. “I’m fine,” he said through clenched teeth. As fine as he could be two weeks after having surgery to remove shrapnel from his knee and thigh. The stitches had been removed the day he’d gotten word his father had been shot. The scars were tender, but he would heal.
    “If you need to take it slowly—”
    “I said, I’m fine,” he snapped and stepped out like he had no injury, biting down on his tongue to keep from letting go of a sting of profanity. “Where to?”
    Her glance searched his face. “I’d like run by the convenience store for a few items, then I’ll be ready to go back to the ranch.”
    “We can ride together,” he said.
    “No need. It’s just around the corner.” She climbed into her Jeep.
    Hank eased into his own, rubbing his sore leg, willing the pain to subside. “Some bodyguard you are,” he muttered. The woman he was guarding had asked if he was okay, not the other way around. If he planned to establish a new career in the personal security business, he wasn’t starting out with a bang. Hank supposed it wasn’t unreasonable to have a learning curve. He hoped the curve and his injury didn’t put Sadie at risk.

    S adie glanced in her rearview mirror, a frown settling between her brows. She’d noticed Hank’s limp, but until he’d stepped off the curb and nearly fallen in front of her, she’d assumed his limp was a twisted ankle or a blister from wearing his combat boots. She hadn’t wanted to consider he might have been injured in a battle. All these years, she’d tried not to think of the danger he faced on a daily basis.
    It made her little incident seem minor in comparison. Except Hank’s father had taken a bullet for her. Nothing had happened since the first attempt, making Sadie rethink the scenario. Maybe it really had been a kid getting stupid with a gun. With the sheriff looking for him, he might be running scared. In which case, hiring a bodyguard might be overkill.
    Sadie shot a glance in the mirror at the SUV following closely behind her. She pulled into a parking space in front of the convenience store and shut off her engine, admitting she was happy Hank had been there to add additional support in getting rid of the overzealous