“Makes me almost miss being in a relationship.”

“Ooh, I could set you up with someone! There’s this guy–”

“No, thank you.”

“Spoilsport. You ruin everything, dude.”

“Awesome. Thanks for the feedback.”

Lena snorted and I smiled. A little levity felt damn good. Then someone knocked at the door. Ever so slowly, I dragged my oily-haired, yoga pants-wearing, general mess of a self over to answer. A couple hours of shitty broken sleep and a stalker didn’t bring out the best in me. Who could have guessed?

I opened the door and…stopped.

“Miss Cooper?” he asked in a deep voice.

I blinked.

He waited.

Say something. “Ah, yes. Hi. That’s me.”

Over six foot worth of tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome stood before me. And while I was falling apart, he seemed so put together it hurt. My messy bun and spandex clad ass were not anywhere up to dealing with this today. Whoever he was, he needed to leave and come back another time. Preferably when I was rocking one of my best outfits and actually had a clue. Or had at least had a shower. Deodorant could really only go so far.

“I’m Ziggy Thayer,” he said. “Samuel Rhodes sent me over.”

“He did?”

“Yes.”

“Y-you’re going to be my bodyguard?”

“Close protection officer, yes.”

“Huh.”

He tipped his chin. “Is there a problem, miss?”

“I, um…”

Was there a problem? Hell yes. This was a fucking disaster. My brain refused to function, all synapses had stalled. I didn’t know if it was the immaculate black suit, general air of badassery, or his stone-faced expression. But whatever it was, he needed to cease and desist with the hotness immediately. It’s not like I wasn’t used to being around beautiful people. It’s part of my job, after all. And he wasn’t even beautiful exactly, but for some reason, I couldn’t stop staring.

“Mae, you’re being weird. Let him in,” ordered Lena from the couch. As friends go, Lena and her bluntness occasionally sucked. This was clearly one of those occasions.

“Sorry.” I stepped back, heat creeping up my neck. “Please, come in, Mr. Thayer.”

“Ziggy will be fine,” he said.

“Oh. Then call me Mae.”

“He’ll call you Miss Cooper,” said Lena. “Don’t fight it. We’ve all tried to train the formality out of him, but it never sticks. Does it, Ziggy?”

Not even a hint of an expression or friendly smile from the man. He took resting bitch face to the next level. “No, ma’am.”

“Marines.” Lena shrugged. “What can you do?”