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“Frederick?”
“Shh.”
I purse my lips together, waiting, and somehow my hands find their way to Frederick’s waist. And it is a firm waist, let me tell you. I force myself to be perfectly still. Yeah, no. Not working. This position does nothing to keep my frazzled breathing at bay or calm the crazy racing of my heart.
Frederick’s face is still fixed on the exit, and I can almost read his mind, like I’m a student in Bodyguarding 101 and this is a pop quiz. We aren’t leaving yet because he wants to know why the guy attacked me. Did Ricky somehow know I was a princess—like Stephanie earlier today—or was he simply a drunk idiot?
He didn’t say anything that would lead me to believe the former, so I have to conclude it’s the latter. “Just a drunk idiot,” I whisper under my breath.
“What?” Frederick finally tilts his face downward andoh my. His nose nearly touches my own. I smell the mint on his breath, the woodsy cologne that clings to his clothing. Would I be able to smell it on his skin too if I pressed my nose against the throbbing vein in his lower neck?
He blinks. “Are you all right, Princess?”
“Hmm?” I jerk my eyes back up to his face and pray he can’t see my thoughts plainly there.
“I said, are you all right?”
He’s asking in an official capacity, I know. But oh, how I wish there was a different reason he had me up against this wall. How I wish he would lean in and—
Thinking about that is not going to do you any favors, Chloe. This is not one of Abigail Fox’s books.
Sigh. My brain is correct.
“Chloe.”
I jolt. “I’m all right. Come on. Let’s go.”
But he doesn’t move. “I don’t know if I can keep you safe in this town.” His gaze trails over my face. “I tried to get to you the second he approached, but the dance floor was crowded. There wasn’t a path. I had to make one. And the whole time, I was …”
He was … what? My fingers flex against his stomach. “It’s not your fault, Freddy.”
“It absolutely is. It’s my job, and I shouldn’t have left your side.”
“I left yours, remember?” I attempt a tease, but he’s still lost in his guilt, in his thoughts.
“In many ways, smaller towns are harder because you … you just stand out far too much. I know you don’t want to hear this, but it might be too risky to stay in Hallmark Beach, Chloe.”
No. “You’ve done a great job of keeping me safe so far.”
“Yeah, that’s why a woman probably has pictures of you in a ridiculous dress that she could sell to the tabloids for thousands.” He swallows hard, and his nose lowers a fraction more, barely brushing my own. “That’s why a drunk idiot had the chance to get his hands all over you.”
“I had it handled.”
His lips quirk. “I’m sure you did.” Then he grows serious once more. “I know you don’t want me to, but I need to tell Topher—”
“Don’t tell him anything. Please, Freddy.”
A beat. Then, “Why does this mean that much to you? I know you want them to have their special day, but neither of them would want it to be at your expense.”
A breeze tickles my cheek, a reminder that we are still outside, still in this alley, in the dark. But my whole being wants nothing more than to stay right here, for all of eternity. “Because.” I don’t want him to see me as weak, but honesty is the only route I’ve got. “I know our country doesn’t think much of me. I know I’ll never be good at giving public speeches that rouse a crowd, or outmaneuver a political opponent, or do much more than set fashion trends. But one thing Iamgood at is planning events, and if I can use that talent to bless the people I love the most, then …” I shrug, at a loss for more words to explain.
He’s silent for a while before speaking again. “Okay, then.”
“Okay … what?”
Frederick sighs and straightens, finally easing off the wall—and away from me. Boo. “We’ll stay. But if anything else happens, I’m pulling the plug on this operation.”
“All right.” I shake out my hands. “Done.”
