Peach Tree Bodyguard (Gay Romance)

By Trina Solet

Moving to Peach Tree, all Lane wants is security for his little girl, Nola, and his grandmother, nothing more. But how can he resist his hot, arrogant neighbor with a cute dog.
Joss has secrets and scars, and he's in Peach Tree to do a job, not get involved. Lane is part of that job and that's why he has to stay close, but not too close. That's not easy as Lane keeps stirring up feelings that are a lot more than attraction. If he doesn't keep his distance, Lane will figure him out.
Lane can't afford to open up to anyone, but Joss is irresistible and he keeps getting pulled in. Both men are playing with fire, but as their secrets come out, it's Joss who has to convince Lane that he's not in danger. When Joss is proved wrong, their whole world might be torn apart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trina Solet
• Release date: Nov 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9791220228701

Book preview

Solet

Chapter 1

When he went to pick out a dog from the animal shelter in Ashbury, Joss couldn't help feeling guilty. He didn't get a dog because he wanted one. He did it because he needed an excuse to walk up and down the riverbank and roam the fields and hills around the riverside cottages located on the edge of Peach Tree. That kind of thing looked a lot less suspicious when he had a dog by his side.

That might have been Joss's reason for adopting Rosie, but he had to admit the dog was sweet and he found himself forgetting why he got her. With her floppy ears and soulful eyes, she was irresistible.

Joss had Rosie, the little beagle, and an assumed identity to help him do his job without drawing suspicion. Joss was impersonating a man named Craig Drucker so he could keep a eye on his neighbors, the family living in the blue cottage.

The blue cottage was the last one in the row of river cottages, and it was the furthest one from the small town of Peach Tree. The cottage was home to Yvonne Goodwin's younger brother, her daughter, and her grandmother. Joss had regularly seen all three of them outside enjoying the nice weather of late summer.

Lane Bridger would often sit in a folding chair with his laptop. That was the name the brother now used. He was slim with dark brown hair and blue eyes behind a pair of eyeglasses. Lane was very attractive in a nerdy kind of way. And by adopting his little niece, Nola, he had made himself a young dad. The little three year old, was running around nonstop. She was like a whirlwind, while Lane's youthful, blond grandmother was in and out, bustling and keeping herself busy.

That morning as Joss jogged by the blue cottage, he slowed and saw Lane just as he stepped out of the back door. His laptop was closed and held under one arm. Still on the doorstep, he didn't move just followed Joss with his eyes the whole time he was running past the house. Joss didn't blame him, though every time he saw him he gave Lane a friendly wave.

After what happened to Lane's sister and her husband, a friendly wave from a stranger wasn't going to put his mind at ease. Even Rosie jogging next to him didn't put a smile on Lane's serious, watchful face.

That was fine. Joss wasn't there to make friends. He had a job to do and that's all that mattered to him.

***

Sunshine pouring in through his open bedroom window lured Lane outside. He had his desk in the bedroom but always seemed to end up outdoors and working sitting in a lawn chair in the back of the cottage.

The cottage was a good size with two original bedrooms and one that was added on. That one was a lot bigger and Lane set it up as a bedroom and office. Nola's room was the smallest, but she didn't spend much time in it anyway. She was always running around, chasing bugs outside. There was nothing she liked better than to pick up creepy crawly things and show them to him. Lane shuddered remembering the centipede she practically put in his lap yesterday.

Right now Nola was in the kitchen with Gran. Lane listened to their chatter as he stepped out of the doorway that led from the kitchen to the field in the back of the house.

While Nola and Gran's voices were in the background, Lane's attention was on the guy jogging along the riverbank. He was almost out of sight, but he had a dog now, a little beagle whose fur was brown, beige and white.

Before Yvonne and her husband's deaths, Lane would have been watching the guy because he was hot and had a cute dog. But now he didn't look at random guys with interest. He looked at them as a possible threat.

Once the guy moved off, Lane relaxed a little bit and took in the view. The back of the cottage looked out over the river. Right now the opposite riverbank was a deep green while the river reflected the bright blue of the sky.

They had great views on all sides. To the west there was Peach Tree Hill. The front of the cottage had a porch that faced low hills and fields with wildflowers in full bloom. Beyond that was the town of Peach Tree.

They had moved there less than a month before when his grandmother joined them. She lost her husband, and after being with him through his illness, she wanted to be with Lane and especially Nola. She said that would help her broken heart heal.

Having been a corporate type all her life, Gran had taken to living in the country better than Lane expected, even learning to cook on the wood burning stove. When he was arranging to buy the cottage, the real estate lady told him their cottage was the oldest one there. The original, wood burning stove proved it, and once Gran saw it, she was determined to put it to use.

That morning she had made pancakes on it and now she was leaning out the kitchen door and bragging, I only burned a few of them. I mean hardly any. Maybe five. Then she made lunch plans. I'm going to bake a fresh loaf of bread for our sandwiches.

Don't burn it, Lane told her.

I never burn bread, she claimed then added, Any more.

Placing his folding chair in the shade of a small tree, Lane sat down with his laptop ready to get to work. Right on cue Nola ran out of the kitchen with Gran warning her to stay close.

Working. Boo, Nola said. She didn't like to see him working. It meant he couldn't play with her.

She bounced an orange ball instead. On the uneven ground, it bounced wildly, but Nola didn't seem to mind chasing it.

Lane made sure to keep her in his line of sight while he worked. The field outside the house sloped gently toward the river, but she knew better than to stray in that direction.

He still warned her and she listened. But when her ball bounced and then rolled down the slope, she looked at him like she wanted to see if she could chase it.

Up from his chair, setting the laptop on it, Lane took her hand. We'll get it together. He didn't want to scare her, but he used a firmer voice to remind her. You always have to stay close and hold my hand when you get to these rocks.

Have to catch the ball, she said but then something else took her attention. Doggy!

The guy with the dog was jogging back their way. His dog had spotted the ball and nosed at it where it lay in the grass.

Yours? the guy said casually, then he threw the ball so that it sailed through the air in a smooth arc and landed right next to them.

Again! Again! Nola demanded raising her arms up, but the guy only laughed, waved at them and ran on with his dog.

Damn it, he had a stunning smile and a cute dog. His hair was dirty blond, his eyes dark, and his body incredible. Lane did not need that kind of distraction right now. He had Nola to keep safe, and that was all he cared about.

Setting her down, he kneeled in the grass and leaned in so he was nose to nose with her. You don't run after any balls or any doggies. OK? Stay close to me or Gran.

OK, she said then grabbed the ball and threw it yelling, Catch it.

Of course the ball went off to one side and rolled on the ground so he had to chase after it. As he picked it up and threw it to Nola, she didn't catch it of course. She just laughed. Then she laughed again when she tried to pick it up and kicked it instead.

Lane thought about that guy when he threw the ball – the easy, athletic motion of his nicely muscled arm and the flash of a scar under the sleeve of his t-shirt.

Chapter 2

It was Saturday and Lane took Nola and Gran on a picnic. Roast chicken and green bean salad were on the menu. Nola only wanted to play with the green beans, but she couldn't get enough of the peach slices Gran packed for dessert.

Look at how much she loves peaches. That's a sign that we were meant to come to Peach Tree, Gran decided as Lane tried to keep up with the peach juice dripping down Nola's chin.

His grandmother knew that he was second-guessing himself about moving there. Peach Tree had more tourists coming through than he realized. He should have picked someplace quieter, but his grandmother loved it there and she had already made friends. And of course Nola was in her element.

Any time he saw her running around outside, Lane couldn't help thinking of Yvonne. Nola had her mom's golden brown hair but not her blue eyes. Lane was six years younger than Yvonne, so he didn't get to see his big sister for himself when she was Nola's age. From pictures and video, he could see how much they looked alike, but Gran said Yvonne hadn't been anything like Nola at all. Yvonne was quieter, more adorably serious and so smart.

Lane was pretty sure she was never into bugs like Nola. What he remembered was the grown up Yvonne, her ambition, and how she scolded him for not applying himself, for wasting his potential. Always driven to succeed, Yvonne worked so hard to make a name for herself. Then her life was cut short and her husband's as well.

They were lawyers representing a weapons dealer who was testifying against his partners. Knowing they were in danger, they sent Nola away with Lane. A week later they were killed.

Nola didn't remember her mom or her dad at all. She was less than a year old when they died. She didn't remember Lane's mom either. Lane couldn't keep in touch with anyone from his former life if he wanted to keep Nola safe from the people who killed her parents.

His mom did have another family though, but Lane didn't even get to say goodbye to his half brother and half sister before he had to go into hiding with Nola. That's why he was so glad their grandmother wanted to join them and give Nola more of a family than just him.

Having Gran there made days like today a lot more fun. After the picnic, they drove for a little bit then stopped by a marshy area that ran along the riverbank near the bridge. They chose a pretty spot and made their way toward the shallows at the water's edge.

Cattails grew tall and Gran got one of them to show to Nola. That held Nola's attention for about a second. She was more excited as she saw something jump in the water. It was probably a fish, but she had other ideas.

Catch froggies, Nola was saying. She was ready to wade into the mud, and that reminded Lane where he parked and he was having second thoughts about it.

Sorry to abandon the hunt, but I want to go and move the car from that muddy spot, he said to his grandmother.

You just don't want to have to touch any slimy frogs, Gran accused him.

Gran, it's not like she's going to catch any, he said as he left.

It was true he didn't want to touch slimy frogs, but he was afraid that he parked too close to the marshy ground and the car might get stuck when it was time to leave.

As he tried to move the car, he proved himself right. The wheels were just kicking up mud, digging the car in deeper. That was not good.

Getting out to push, Lane only succeeded in getting himself covered with mud. The car was stuck and he was getting frustrated. He would have to call a tow truck to get the car out and that made him feel like an idiot.

Kicking himself for where he chose to park, he was about to make the call when he saw a car stop on the road, a nondescript gray sedan. It was well away from him, but Lane got uneasy until he saw a familiar figure step out of the car. It was their jogging neighbor. He didn't come over, but hung onto the driver's side door as he called out to ask, Need help?

Lane's first instinct was to say no, but he felt dumb denying the obvious, so he told the truth. I got the car stuck in this muddy spot. He then looked down at himself. But you'll get dirty if you come over here.

I'll be OK, the guy said and he walked over. He looked under the car. It's not in too deep. I think if we work together, we'll have it out. I'm Craig Drucker, by the way. I'm a few cottages down from yours.

Lane. Lane Bridger. Nice to meet you.

They were on opposite sides of the car so they didn't shake hands or anything, and Lane caught himself wishing they had. Was he that desperate for physical contact with a hot guy?

They had to get the car out of the mud. That's what he should be focused on. Craig had him get behind the wheel while he pushed. Mud went flying but then the car lurched forward and it was out.

Getting out from the car, Lane was relieved to have it on more solid ground, but he wasn't comfortable that he had to accept help from a stranger.

Thank you and sorry about your clothes, Lane told him. Craig was splattered even worse than Lane. I didn't realize the ground over there was so muddy.

It's an easy mistake to make and my clothes will wash, Craig told him like it wasn't a big deal.

You're going to get that mud all over your car, Lane realized. He had already messed up his own car. There was no helping that, but he didn't want Craig to suffer for his mistake. I have a picnic blanket in the trunk. You can cover your car seat with it.

I don't want to get it dirty. I'll just take the shoes off. And I do have sweatpants in my gym bag, he said then eyed some nearby bushes. I see a good place I can use to change into them.

Thinking about this gorgeous guy taking his jeans off in the bushes, Lane knew he must be blushing so hard. Good thing Craig went to his car to get the sweatpants. When he came back, he told Lane, Keep watch, just in case.

He said keep watch, not keep watching, so Lane turned away and immediately started picturing Craig taking his jeans off, with nothing on underneath, bending a little to show off a perfect, toned ass. In his imagination, Craig didn't put his sweatpants on. He turned to give Lane the front view too.

To get his mind out of the gutter, Lane started talking. My grandmother and I just took my daughter on a picnic then we stopped here.

That's why you had the picnic blanket. It's a nice day for it, Craig said over the sound of the bushes rustling from his movements.

I keep thinking how this is the end of summer and we should take advantage of every warm day, Lane said.

I know what you mean. I've been tempted to jump in the river and go for a swim, Craig said and now Lane was back to thinking of him naked, slowly entering the water then smoothly diving in. He was torn between picturing Craig's muscled body gleaming in the sun or under the light of the moon.

While drooling over the Craig in his imagination, Lane was startled when the real guy walked out of the bushes. He was dressed but barefoot.

I hate that you have to pay for my dumb choice of parking space, Lane said.

It's all right. Bare feet in the grass feel nice, he said and Lane got to see his gorgeous smile again. At close range it was even better.

Now Lane felt like he had to say something and not just stare at him. My grandmother and my daughter are pretending to catch frogs. I'm sure she's getting all muddy too.

That's how kids have fun, right? The dirtier the better. Craig looked toward the river then turned his eyes in the direction of Peach Tree Hill in the distance. This seems like a good place for a kid to grow up. Or are you here on vacation?

No. We're living here. And you?

Just taking care of things at my late granddad's cottage before it's sold. But it's been kind of like a vacation for me too, he said then motioned toward his car. I'll get going now. I'll see you around.

Right. Thanks again, Lane said and watched Craig pick his way over the dry areas to his car. Before getting in, he waved. It reminded Lane of how he always waved at him as he jogged by or walked his dog. Except that from now on, Lane wouldn't be able to think of him as a stranger any more.

Chapter 3

As soon as he opened his eyes and noticed the bright sunshine coming through his window and heard Nola and his grandmother outside, Lane knew he had slept too late and felt guilty about it. He had a good excuse. He worked late into the night after a deadline got moved up, but the real reason was that he kept waking up from dreams about Craig naked in the bushes, swimming naked, jogging naked. That last one really had him going and kept him up the longest.

With his bed made, Lane could go and grab a cup of coffee and join the fun outside. He slipped on the tennis shoes by his bedroom door and soon he was breathing in the scent of a fresh cup of coffee brewing.

With his hot mug of coffee in hand, Lane stepped out the kitchen door and took in the view that never failed to put a smile on his face. The river was reflecting the sunshine and the green of the countryside. And there was the best part of the view – Nola playing with Gran, probably not tiring her out even since they were both tireless.

Good morning, honey, his grandmother called out.

Morning, Gran. Morning, Nola. You want to play with me? Lane asked her.

Nola shook her head and kept running in circles around Gran. You have a sleepyhead, she told him.

Lane touched his hair and noticed it was sticking up. That's what Nola called his sleepyhead.

A little later Lane was ready to get to work when he spotted Craig and his dog by the riverside. The dog stopped to sniff something so Craig stopped too and just looked out over the water. Watching him, Lane remembered that he said that he was staying in his late grandfather's house. He wondered if Craig's grandfather died recently.

This might be a sad time for him. Lane thought about Gran, who lost her second husband after losing granddad and then Yvonne. And Lane still couldn't think of Yvonne's death without suffering through a wave of anger and sadness, not just for her but for Nola's sake and his whole family.

That thought made him walk down the slope to where Craig was still standing next to the little, floppy eared dog.

Good morning, Lane said as Craig turned to him with a smile. I just wanted to thank you again.

It's no problem, Craig said while his dog came over to sniff at Lane.

He scratched the dog's head. You're a nice dog.

Her name is Rosie, and she's really sweet, Craig said.

Daddy! Doggy! Nola yelled. She