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“My bodyguard,” Lucy said with a glance to her take-a-bullet-for-me protector.
“Agreed ta let you take on a roommate. Jeff didn’t say nothin’ about two men livin’ with you.” Dixie scowled. “How many men can you take? One was my limit.”
Neilson coughed into his hand and shifted.
“No. I’m—we’re not,” Lucy said with as much patience as she could muster. “Can I go inside my house now?”
Dixie gestured to Lucy’s bodyguard again. “Is he livin’ here, too?”
“No, ma’am,” he replied a bit too quickly.
“This keeps up I’ll have ta up your rent, missy. Can’t have men comin’ and goin’ all times of the day. This ain’t Miss Dixie’s House of Tricks and Tiddles.”
Lucy flushed with embarrassment.
Dixie harrumphed and hauled herself down the stairs using the shotgun as a cane. “Looks like I’m off duty. Give me a holler if he needs ta leave, and I’ll take another shift.” Dixie narrowed her eyes and looked him over. “Have you been a bodyguard for celebrities?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a blank face.
She quirked a heavily penciled eyebrow. “Anyone I would know?”
“Likely so.”
That got her attention. “We talkin’ A-list?”
“Confidentiality, ma’am.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Cher or Vanna White?”
“Can’t say.”
“Do you ever say more than two words at a time?” Dixie asked.
“Depends.”
“This’uns a character. He can stay.” She smiled what Lucy’d dubbed her best Southern hospitality smile and ambled away, whistling the Tennessee waltz.
Lucy turned to the stairs, but Neilson was in front of her before she could take a step. “Property check. I’ll need a key.”
Hey there, it turned out he could speak a full sentence…kind of. She handed over the key. His fingertips grazed the pistol at his hip when he pushed open the door.
She’d never witnessed a property sweep before. What a disappointment when it turned out to be just a guy walking around her house. Mitzy hissed half-heartedly when he stepped into the bedroom.
“I have a cat,” Lucy said, belatedly. Of course, he saw that now that Mitzy had made herself known. Nonetheless, cat, there she was.
“See that.” So, they were back to two-word sentences. “All clear.”
Yep, definitely.
“Um, what happens next?” She set her purse on the table. Should she tip him like a bellman?
He removed his aviators, slipped them into the pocket of his black polo shirt, and stood at attention. “Forget I’m here. Do whatever you normally do.”
She put a teakettle on the stove and futzed with the burner knob that slipped constantly. Normally after a day like today, she’d eat an entire carton of Cherry Garcia frozen yogurt. But she preferred to binge eat in private, thank you. Of course, she could bake William a cake, but she wasn’t a great baker, to say the least.
“You want a cup of tea?” She gestured to the stove.
“No, thanks.” How could he stand in one place like that without getting tired of, well, standing there?
