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New-Mia made decisions that suited her. For over four years, I’d suffered other people’s choices, and it had nearly broken me. Never again. I’d made the break and now had the chance to change everything. Who said I couldn’t be a woman who had one-night stands?
Sexy escapades she actually wanted.
In an aircraft hangar filled with active and attractive men and women, I’d bet a lot of sex happened in that bunkhouse, or wherever the couple I’d seen were running off to. My roommate had the sort of swagger that made me picture him easily taking women or men into his bed.
I could be one of those lucky people.
New determination grabbed me. If I made it through the night with no one coming after me, no disaster, and no drama, I was grasping every opportunity that came my way.
My list—to find a home and bring my daughter back—expanded to add a third item.
To get laid.
Life looked sweet for the first time in forever.
Chapter 2
Valentine
I entered the bodyguard office, raising a hand to Jackson at one of the desks. He was on the phone and blanked me, listening intently to the call.
Fucker.
From the boss’s desk, I peeled a Post-it note from a pack. Balled it up. With a casual flick of my wrist, I fired it his way, landing a direct hit to his forehead.
Jackson jerked then eyed me, lowering his gaze. “Aye, the twenty-fifth,” he said to his caller and drifted his hand to the floor.
The ball of paper sliced through the air, whip-fast. It hit my chest and bounced away. I’d barely seen his hand move.
Game on.
Peeling another five from the stack, I rolled them between my palms and lined them up along the front edge of Ben’s deskin a neat row, a few inches between each. Across the room, Jackson picked up a book.
I crouched behind my ammo, lined up my shot, and flicked the first ball.
It arced towards him.
Jackson lurched, parrying it with the book, a satisfying lowthwackresounding.
I flicked the next, but it went wide.
He tutted. Then winced, shooting me a glare. “No, sorry, carry on,” he spoke down the phone.
I cracked up silently, readying the next missile.
Life was good. A happy mood had taken over me, made out of getting comfortable in my new bodyguard job in snowy, gorgeous Scotland, but also from the attention of my spy earlier. The woman I’d be sharing the bunkhouse with could’ve called me out for my unintended exhibitionism, except she didn’t. She’d watched, God love her, and given me the visual of a bountiful pair of tits and a pretty face that I’d needed to tip me over the edge.
Even now, I could picture her. Those flushed cheeks. The way she stared. That stunning, curvy body.
Holy fuck, little spy.
I darted another paper ball at my colleague, right at the second someone else entered the room. A large someone in the shape of my boss.
The ball pinged off Ben’s arm. His blond eyebrows dove together, and he switched his confused gaze to me.
Fun time was over. I brushed the final two into the bin.
He made no comment, crossing the office to his desk. He’d called us in for an afternoon update meeting, so I found a seat, right as Jackson finished his conversation and Raphael strode in.
