Seeking Her (Losing It #3.5)(4)
Author: Cora Carmack

If he wasn’t a boyfriend, that meant she’d gone off with a complete stranger. But why?

Just when I was about to give up hope of my stealthy role and start yelling her name, I heard laughter behind me.

I edged around the bush, and saw two legs stretching out behind a tree. Dark jeans and boots, not the short-­shorts and strappy shoes that Kelsey had been wearing.

I retreated back behind another line of trees, and then carefully maneuvered my way closer.

A white shirt hung, snagged on a branch, swaying in the floral breeze. That should have given me a clue. But my mind was still in mission mode, so I continued my slow, silent steps until I saw Kelsey—­shirtless . . . straddling who I guessed was her moped driver.

I mouthed a curse word, but I didn’t look away.

Her skin was smooth and tan, and I was fascinated by the trail of her spine, the way it deepened like an empty riverbed when she arched forward. The tips of her hair danced across her back, swaying with her movements. Her bra was emerald green, almost like her eyes; and my mouth went dry when she leaned back—­and I got a full view of her. I could almost ignore the guy who was with her and the way he trailed kisses down her neck to her collarbone. I could almost pretend that this wasn’t a billion different kinds of wrong.

Almost.

I was stuck, frozen in place, helpless to do anything but stare at her, at the complete abandon written across her face.

Who knows how long I would have stayed there if the guy hadn’t looked up and met my eyes.

I mouthed a few four-­letter words and spun away, pressing my back against the tree.

He said something, and I got ready to run.

“What?” Kelsey asked, her voice so breathy and sensuous that it brought the image of her back into my mind with such perfection that I would have believed I was seeing it for real.

Damn it. This is a mission. Focus.

The guy repeated himself, louder this time, in another language.

“That sounds gorgeous, but I don’t know what you’re saying.”

Slow and unsure, the guy said, “Man.”

“Yes, that’s you,” Kelsey replied with a laugh.

“No. Man.”

Behind me, there was shuffling, and I heard Kelsey scoff, “Hey.”

I noted that as my cue to leave, and I took off, careful to dart behind trees until I was far enough away that I could make an all-­out run for it. I didn’t stop when I hit the trail, but kept on going until I was back to the more populated areas of the garden, where I could blend in around other ­people. I found a spot on the steps and picked up a newspaper when someone else abandoned it. I couldn’t read the printed words, but I welcomed the sanctuary as I hid behind the thin sheets of paper.

Fucking hell, that was messed up.

My job for the foreseeable future was protecting a girl who followed a complete stranger (who barely even spoke her language) into the woods to hook up. It was so f**king careless, and I was beginning to understand exactly why her father had gone to such lengths to make sure she was taken care of during this trip.

Jesus. And I had thought this would be boring.

Goddamn stressful was more like it.

As annoyed as I was with her, I was infinitely more annoyed with myself. I was the dumbass who almost got caught because I couldn’t pull my eyes away from her.

I had to get that shit under control or she would make me in no time. And I needed to take this seriously. This guy hadn’t hurt her, but I knew firsthand that there were plenty of ­people out in the world willing to take advantage of her particular brand of naïveté.

I kept my phone perched on my knee, watching that sedentary blue dot out of the corner of my eye. It was another fifteen minutes or so before it began to move. Five more before I saw Kelsey and her foreign friend emerge from the dirt trail onto the paved steps at the center of the garden.

They passed by me and I scowled, expecting the two of them to go back to wherever his moped was parked, leaving me to chase behind again.

I was surprised when Kelsey stopped at the bottom of the steps and said something to him. He paused and leaned his ear closer to her mouth like that might help him understand her better. She took a few steps back and gestured toward the garden. He looked confused, but her intentions became pretty clear when she started climbing the steps and waved goodbye.

He stared after her for a few moments, his mouth open and his brows furrowed. His eyes dropped to her legs, and he grinned in a way that was both sorrowful and celebratory at the same time. Sad to see her go, but victorious all the same.

He ran his fingers through his mussed hair, and then turned back in the direction he’d been heading. I had a feeling that we wouldn’t be seeing him again, and felt stupid for being glad.

I turned sideways so that I could see where Kelsey was heading. I waited until she’d left the steps of the courtyard and turned down one of the paths. I got up and followed her, tucking the newspaper in my back pocket in case I needed it again for cover.

I followed at a distance, but the stealth wasn’t really necessary. She didn’t stop to smell any flowers or pause to take a picture. She walked quickly, determinedly forward like there was somewhere specific she meant to go.

Still, I held back, wanting to be cautious after nearly getting caught before. I was glad I did when, several minutes later, I started to round a bend only to find her stopped and scanning the area around her. I stepped off the path and into a thatch of trees where she couldn’t see me.

When she was satisfied that she was alone, she dropped her backpack beside the trail and walked up to an old, very large tree. The branches were thick and numerous; she gravitated toward a limb that dipped low to the ground, the spears of grass skimming its bark.

She tested its strength with her hand and then, satisfied, sat down on it. She wrapped her arms around herself, grasping both elbows, and laid back along the limb.

I might have thought she was sunbathing, except she took no care to lie in a place with direct sunlight, nor did she uncross her arms.

I thought maybe she was resting, taking a nap even, except I could see the steady, constant tap of her sandal from here.

I wanted to move closer, to see her face and try to decipher what was going through her head. Had she been heading for this particular tree? Or was she just looking for solitude? I brushed away a niggling of guilt at intruding.

I was reading things into her posture, into the rhythm of her tapping foot, and I couldn’t tell whether she was truly upset or if I just wanted her to be.

For all I knew, she was as relaxed as could be.