Julien parked in his driveway, got out and motioned for Emory to park on the street. When the tall blond stepped out of his vehicle, Julien was again struck—this time by his graceful movements. He also wondered how he sat in a car with those wings behind him. Did they fold up? They were really beautiful. A golden white—soft and feathery looking. The urge to feel their texture surprised him.
All the strange urges he was feeling toward Emory flabbergasted him.
They were also not welcome.
Not because of the male aspect—that just made him curious. It was just that he wasn’t up to one of those disruptions to his schedule he’d told Emory he didn’t like. Everything and everyone in his world had its place and had since he’d left his flighty and unpredictable parents young and set out on his own. So though the angel made him remember how much he liked sex, he didn’t have time for that kind of disruption.
He would ignore his body’s response to Emory and just get on with his evening. The penumbra was thankfully not doing anything, perhaps put off by the presence of the angel.
Emory joined him on the porch, and as Julien unlocked his front door, he filled Emory in on his schedule. “I go to bedpromptly at ten, get up at five, work out before breakfast and am in my office by eight. Will that schedule be a problem?”
“I’m used to working on my clients’ schedules, so no.”
“As I said, you’re welcome to use the gym, and you can get anything out of the kitchen you need. The only room that’s off limits is my bedroom.”
“The only reason I’d go in there is if you’re in trouble.” Emory followed him into the house, looking around with obvious curiosity.
Julien glanced around at his perfectly neat living area. Modern style brown couch with bolster pillows, a green side chair, and a white one across from it. A large white rug covered the hardwood floors, and the room had a large doorway into the kitchen, which was all done in black and white. The kitchen wasn’t a large room, and the dining area was a built-in, cushioned seating area with a small table and two black chairs on the other side. He’d bought the house for the large master bedroom and the basement gym, and he hardly ever used the kitchen or living area. He ordered in food, and he often ate at the desk in his home office on the second floor.
“The gym is downstairs. There’s a door in the dining area. I’m going up to change.” He set his briefcase down on the small table next to the door. “But first, I’ll show you to your room.”
Emory followed behind him as he strode down the hallway and opened the door to his guest room. “Here’s where you’ll be sleeping. I am guessing you do sleep while here because you couldn’t just stay on guard twenty-four hours a day. How exactly does that work?”
The corner of Emory’s mouth lifted. “I do sleep, yes. Luckily, I’m a light sleeper, so I will hear if anything comes into the house.” Emory looked around the room and nodded.
Julien glanced around, too. It was a perfectly utilitarian room with a queen-sized bed covered in a beige comforter. There werealso a side table and a dresser. This was the first time Julien had ever had an actual guest stay in the room. His parents lived in an RV, so the few times they had come to visit, they’d stayed in their vehicle.
Which was better all around. He barely tolerated their disruptive visits, absolutely hating the chaos they always brought with them. Growing up with Lynn and Jeff had been a nightmare for Julien, who liked things in order when their very existence was onescraping byone adventure after another. One of their adventures in particular had left him with a permanent need for safety and stability, which was why he’d worked so hard to build his company into what it was now. That period of his life wasn’t a good memory, so he rarely let himself think of it.
He left Emory to get settled and went upstairs to his room to change into shorts and a T-shirt for his workout.
In his home gym, he had a weight bench, a rowing machine, and a treadmill. He started on the treadmill tonight. He still felt off with Emory wandering about his home upstairs, but he purposely put that out of his head and instead tried to focus on the two problems going on with his company.
But no matter how hard he tried to focus, his mind kept going back to Emory and his apparent attraction to the angel. That fucking mouth with its sultry, pouty lines.
Julien approached everything with clear focus, and this problem wasn’t any different. So, he was attracted to a male.
He wouldn’t be acting on that attraction. Emory worked for him, which put him firmly off limits. But he couldn’t help being curious as to why this was happening at this point in his life. At thirty-two, he would have thought there would be some inkling before that he could be bisexual. Maybe it was just because the angel was simply too beautiful to feel real.
It felt like more, though, and that was the part he was having trouble coming to terms with. The urge to put hishands on Emory was strong for having just met, and that didn’t make sense. Even as he’d worked and mostly ignored the angel’s presence in his office that day, a part of him had stayed completely aware of the new feelings. He’d been able to compartmentalize them and get his work done, but even the fact they were there annoyed him. He’d been telling the truth about not liking disruptions in his world. After growing up in an unstable atmosphere, his need for control and routine affected every decision he made. Everything and everyone in his life had their place.
His bodyguard had his place. He was there to protect Julien from the penumbra. So this surprising attraction would have to be ignored.
Chapter Six
Emory
While Julien was back in his gym early the next morning, Emory poked around his living area.
The guy was way too neat.
The place was like something out of a magazine spread, with not one thing out of place and absolutely no clutter. From the cozy yellow exterior, Emory had expected a warm interior, but it was the complete opposite. Julien’s home didn’t look lived in at all. Like it was just a place he passed through on his way to bed. Emory was dying to get a look at Julien’s bedroom. Surely there were some signs of life in there.
But not out here.
He picked up a candlestick and sniffed the unused candle set into it. No scent. It was one of many candles in the room, and not one had ever been lit. He set the candlestick back down and looked around.
There wasn’t even a television. No books on the shelves—just boring decorative items like vases and more candles. And none of it held a layer of dust either.
