Passenger Princess: A Grumpy Sunshine Bodyguard Pageant Queen Romance (Evergreen Park Book 1)

It’s long past dark when we pull up to the new hotel the pageant booked for us after it took almost two hours after the police let us leave, promising to keep Jaime up to date on any news. The previous hotel offered a new room for me, and I would have accepted because, honestly, once the humor of it all wore out, I realized I was exhausted and headed for a crash of monumental proportions.

Unfortunately, Jaime refused, calling his boss, filling him in, and getting a new location he approved of to spend the night at. Then Jaime helped me pack up my things. I’ve never been more grateful I only brought one of the suitcases into the room, but I’m sure Jaime saw a good number of underwear and bras regardless.

That I will be wiping from memory, thank you very much.

We walk to the front desk of a new hotel, where they quickly check us in and hand Jaime two key cards, unlike the past few stops where he was given four, two for each room.

Which means…Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

One room.

Me and Jaime in the same room.

My mind moves to when his hands were on my shoulders, the way he looked at me, the way he calmed me down, the way he called me Princess, the way he kissed the top of my head before going to check my room out.

When we’re in the elevator, I finally speak, attempting to ease the tension that is near suffocating. “One room?”

“Greg and I decided it’s better for us to stay together if someone is after you.”

I roll my eyes and sigh. “Isn’t that a bit much?” Jaime taps the button for the top floor, and slowly, the elevator rises. “No one is looking into me.”

“Your room was broken into and destroyed, this after you’ve had multiple threats and messages sent to you on multiple platforms. If it were up to me, this would be the bare minimum of what we do.” His jaw goes tight, and I try to parse out what he means. Then I decide I don’t really want to know what drastic steps his crazy ass would take.

The police and the hotel staff agreed that, although there was no camera in the hallway my room was in—a budget hotel the pageant picked—it was probably a group of kids screwing around. According to the police chief who came to personally reassure Jaime, there was no imminent threat to my life. It’s something that’s been happening a lot in the area. With nothing to keep the high school kids entertained on weekends, they resort to being little fucks, causing enough trouble to be a headache but not enough to be a real issue.

Instead, I return to the subject at hand.

“So, one hotel room,” I start, a wide smile spreading on my lips and bumping him with my hip. “Are we going to have some fun on the bed trope shenanigans?”

“What?” he asks, staring at me with the kind of exhaustion a parent gives an unruly child.

A pretty good analogy, if you ask me. If Jaime is the responsible parent, I am absolutely the overactive kid.

“You know where we’re supposed to have two twin beds, but there’s only one king, and you try to put up a pillow wall between us, but then I wake up with you spooning me.” I smile at him, and he stares at me before taking a deep breath.

“What the fuck?” he asks, confused and a bit annoyed, I think. I just smile and continue.

“Or maybe I have a horrible nightmare, and you wake up thinking I’m being hurt, then hold me until I fall back asleep.” His brows come together now seeming concerned.

“Do you have nightmares often?”

“I don’t think more often than the average human.” I smile and pat his shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’re not going to have to cuddle with me because of my bad dreams.”

He shakes his head at me, both in exhaustion and confusion. “Where do you come up with this shit?”

“I read a lot,” I say.

“Read what? Horror books?”

I roll my eyes at him and scoff. “No, you doofus. Romance. The one-bed trope is a classic in romance books.” There’s a pause where I think he’ll make some snide remark about reading romance, at which point I’ll have to get all self-righteous, which is a shame because it’s been a long day, but instead, he just gives me a somehow more annoyed look.

“Did you just call me a doofus?” The elevator dings, the doors slide open, and I step out before he can first, turning to face his glaring face.

God, he’s so fun to tease. And so easy to rile.

“Sure did. Now which room is ours, doofus?”

“Wow, this is nice,” I say, stepping into what seems to be a two-bedroom apartment with a very small kitchen.

“The only thing in the area that had a suite and allowed cats. Full disclosure, after what happened, we’re getting a two-bedroom suite at each stop from now on instead of two separate rooms,” he says.

“There goes my snuggling hopes and dreams,” I say with a sigh as he grabs my overnight bag and glares at me.

“Which room do you want?”

“I don’t care,” I say with a shake of my head, because I really don’t. We’ll only be here one night before we pack up, do our event, and drive to North Carolina for the next event.

He just walks off, puts my bag in one room, and then walks back out to me. “I’m going to shower. You okay here?”

I nod, pulling out my book and cuddling on the couch with Peach as if the entire chaotic night didn’t even happen.

“Yup, all good.”

He stares at me for long moments until I feel uncomfortable under his glare. “You’re really okay?”

I sigh and roll my eyes, setting my book aside and standing, moving toward him.

“Yes, Jaime.”

“It’s okay to be shaken up,” he says, his voice soft and kind. I move until I’m standing in front of him in the pajamas I put on before we got back in the car, looking up at him and putting a hand on his chest.

“I probably would be if I had anyone else with me. Lucky for me, I’ve got a Jaime, so I know you’d never let anything happen to me.”

He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, then closes it before opening it again. Then he nods and steps back, my hand dropping.

“Gonna go shower,” he says, his face turning red as he does.

I don’t have to say it out loud. Instead, I just think about it with a smile.

God, he really fucking likes me.

I’m sitting for a total of five minutes reading my book before Peach comes, rubbing on my ankles and yelling at me.

“Hold on, Princess Peach, give me a minute. I’m at a good part,” I mutter, lifting her as I read and putting her on my lap for a cuddle. She doesn’t seem to be in the cuddling mood and instead nips my wrist, clearly saying something along the lines of feed me now, you bitch, or I’m going to make your life a living hell. With a sigh, I put my book down and lift her up until we’re face-to-face.

“You know, if you weren’t so cute, we’d have much bigger issues,” I say in a cloyingly sweet voice that’s annoying even to my ears. She must agree when she nips at my nose.

I sigh, putting her down and getting to work, getting her bowl set with water and food before taking a deep sigh and trying to regulate myself.

Even though I’d never admit it to Jaime, I’m a bit shaken after everything that happened. It’s too real, too close to me. Messages and comments, I can put on the back burner of my mind because they’re just that—words on a phone from some random stranger who knows where.

But someone breaking into my hotel room?

That’s real.

That’s why, instead of reading in my bed like I’d normally do, I chose to read on the couch because it felt safer, or, at the very least, closer to the safety that is quickly becoming what Jaime gives me.

When I walk back into the main living area, Peach content as she stuffs her face with the most vile cat food on this planet in the small kitchen, my reading spot is taken. In its place sits Jaime in a white tee and gray sweatpants, an utter dream, sitting in my vacated spot on the couch, reading my book.

An utter nightmare.

“You better not have lost my spot,” I say with a smile, trying to play off what he could be reading.

He jumps a bit, like I caught him off guard, before he looks up at me, shaking his head. “Is this what you’re always reading in the car?” he asks, lifting the book back up.

“I mean, not that specifically. Sometimes, it’s vampires or faeries or hockey players. Cowboys is kind of new to me.” I lean over his shoulder to see what he’s looking at and fight the embarrassment at him reading about a cowboy tying a single mom to her bed.

I reach to grab it, but he moves at the last minute to keep it out of my reach before standing. I walk around the couch and reach to grab it once again, but he’s much too big and reading at an angle he knows I can’t reach. When I almost get it, he stands, making it impossible to reach my book now.

“Jesus, Princess, you like this kind of stuff?”

I can’t see my face, but I can feel my cheeks burning violently as I move to try and grab my book back. I should have started reading on an e-reader, but I’ve always liked the permanence of books most of all, and I like being able to tab and annotate the physical version.

“I don’t know,” I say, jumping to grab the book again, but he’s too tall when I’m barefoot, not that five-inch heels could have really helped here.

“You don’t know? How do you not know?”

“I’ve never done any of it, Jaime. I just read it.” I stand up straighter, crossing my arms on my chest.

“Why?”

Fine. He wants to play this game, I’ll play too.

“Because have you met men these days? I barely trust them to take me to dinner, much less choke me while they fuck me.”

He stands there, his face gaping at my words, and I smile, happy I’ve evened the playing field once again.

“Now, you? I bet you know how to choke a woman and make sure she likes it.” I smile wide then wink before turning toward the small kitchen again to refill my water bottle even though it’s half full. I just need some space to breathe when he’s looking at me like that.

“Can you stop that?” Jaime finally says, standing in the entryway of the kitchen.

“Stop what?” I ask over my shoulder.

“Stop…” He stutters a few times, trying to find the right way to say whatever it is he’s trying to say, and I fight the rush of satisfaction, knowing I’ve got him so flustered. “Flirting with me.”

“Why?” I ask, but then something else comes to mind, horror taking over me as a new thought hits. “Does it make you uncomfortable?” I ask, turning toward him. Flirting with him because it flusters him is one thing, but making him uncomfortable when he’s just trying to do his job is another.

He answers quickly and concisely. “No.” A blush comes over his cheeks like that one word alone was more of a confession than he would want to make. “It’s just unprofessional.”

“Unprofessional?”

“My job is to protect you, Ava. Not flirt with you.”

Funny that he said flirt with me rather than me flirting with him, which is intriguing.

Has this been his brand of flirting?

If so, he is really bad at it.

Something about that makes me smile, knowing that Jaime Wilde is actually bad at something.

I let a smile spread over my lips. “Then it’s settled.”

“What’s settled?” he asks hesitantly as if he isn’t sure he really wants my answer.

“You like me. That’s why my flirting with you gets you all flustered.” I caught him right as he was taking a sip of his water, and he chokes on it. I have to fight the urge to laugh as Jaime coughs a few times before, finally, I come over and pat him on the back. “You good there, big guy?”

He turns toward me, leaving barely a foot between us before he glares at me. “I’m fine. You just caught me off guard.”

“I’m really good at that,” I say with a smile.

He takes me in, his discerning gaze taking in my features, my eyes, my face, my lips…then he stops on my lips, his eyes lingering there too long for someone who wouldn’t want to kiss me.

“I don’t like you,” he says, his voice growly and going places it absolutely should not go.

“Yeah, you do. That’s okay. A little crush never hurt anyone,” I say with a smile, then step back, grab my water bottle off the coffee table, and walk off.