Bodyguard SEAL (SEALs of Coronado Book 8) by Paige Tyler (best classic literature txt) 📗

“Okay, tell me about this book signing/release party thing we’re doing tonight,” he said.

“There’s not much to tell,” she said, filling her bowl with Cheerios, then adding milk. “My publisher has reserved a large ballroom at the Hilton San Diego Bayfront and the event is supposed to kick off at six PM, though they rarely get these things off exactly on time. I usually go into the ballroom through a side entrance after all the fans have arrived and been given instructions on how the book signing will work. Then I stand at a podium and say a few words to welcome my readers and talk about the series and the newest book, tease a few tidbits about what comes next, answer a few questions from fans. After that, I spend the next four hours signing books. I know it sounds a little chaotic, but it’s actually rather chill and routine when you get right down to it.”

Noah seemed to consider that for a while, and from his slightly distracted expression, she got the feeling he was probably going through various security issues with the event she just described.

“Are the people who put this event together aware of the threat against you?” he asked. “Have they given any thought to postponing it or holding it in a more secure location?”

“The only person who knows about the break-in is my senior editor, Gwen Williamson.” She dipped her spoon into her cereal. “My publisher has decided to keep everyone else in the dark. Less chance it will leak to the press that way. And as far as postponing the event or moving it somewhere? No chance. This thing has been planned for months and coincided with the official release of the book next week. The release date can’t be changed at this point and with many of my readers coming from out of town just for a chance to meet me, there’s no way we can move the party. It would be a public relations catastrophe. Even if we could, I wouldn’t treat my readers like that. It’s wrong.”

On the other side of the table, Noah scowled, but didn’t say anything.

“I know you’re worried about me and I appreciate that more than you’ll ever know,” she said. “But I can’t live like a shut-in until this book is finished. I have obligations to my publisher beyond writing, not the least of which is this release party. Over the next few weeks, I’ll have quite a few signings at bookstores around town and a few interviews, too.”

“I know.” He filled his own bowl with cereal and began to eat it—dry. “But I still worry about having you out in public like this. And yeah, I know we went out last night, but that was completely different. Nobody knew you were going to be there. Like you said, this release party has been publicized for months. If someone wanted to get to you outside of your home, that would be the place to do it.”

“Maybe,” she agreed, more than a little nervous at the thought. “But I trust you to keep me safe. I know you won’t let me out of your sight.”

While they ate, they talked a little more about the other book signings and interviews she’d be doing. After they were finished Peyton rinsed their bowls before putting them in the washer.

“I’m going to head back upstairs and get a couple hours of writing done before we leave,” she said.

He frowned. “A couple hours? I thought you said the release party isn’t until six. We don’t need to leave for like eight hours or something.”

“If we were heading straight to the Bayfront hotel, yes,” she told him. “But I need to get my hair and nails done before the party and my appointment at the salon is at two o’clock. And since this is a dressy event, we’ll need to get you something else to wear besides jeans.”

“You mean, like a suit?”

She nodded, then almost laughed as his mouth twitched in the cutest way she’d ever seen.

“We’ll have to stop by my place so I can pick it up then,” he said.

That worked for her. And considering how good he looked in everything from jeans and a T-shirt to a towel, she couldn’t wait to see him dressed up.

* * * * *

“I have to admit, your place is a lot neater than I expected,” Peyton said as they walked into his apartment. “I don’t know why, I assumed it would be your standard bachelor pad with dishes piled up in the sink and pizza boxes overflowing the garbage can.” She gave him an apologetic look. “Does that make me a bad person?”

Noah chuckled, catching a whiff of the shampoo they used at the salon and he couldn’t help inhaling appreciatively. He still wasn’t sure what a blow-out was, but the two-plus hours he’d waited for her at the salon was definitely worth it. She looked amazing.

“Considering I told you I could eat pizza every night of the week, no, it doesn’t,” he said. “When you go on missions with no notice, you keep your place as clean as you can.”

He didn’t mention that before he’d left for her place the other day, he had to toss out an entire trash bag full of burger wrappers, pizza boxes, and chip bags that had accumulated while he’d been on medical leave.

Closing the door, he pocketed his keys. “I learned the hard way that there’s nothing worse than coming home to a sink full of dirty dishes after a month-long deployment. It helps that the place is so small. It makes it easy to keep up with it.”

“I don’t know,” Peyton said, glancing around. “It’s a pretty roomy apartment for a single guy. And that deck is like having an extra living room.”

While nowhere near as big as her house on the beach, Noah supposed he couldn’t really complain. His second-floor apartment had a fancy kitchen, two bedrooms,