Her Temporary Bodyguard

(Part 10) Chapter Nine

"So, what, because he asked you, you just dropped everything and went across the country to fly to the rescue of a woman you've never met from a danger you had no knowledge of?" Her surprise was palpable. Logan shrugged and reached for his soda.

"That about sums it up," he agreed. Tara turned her attention to the container of fries in her lap.

"I'm sure that went over real well with your girlfriend." Maybe she should have shoved some of those fries in her mouth before cramming her foot into it.

"No girlfriend, so no problem," he said easily. Tara ignored how the tension in her chest relaxed. She could not be relieved to hear that he was single, could she? No. Just because she could still feel the way his lips felt pressed against hers didn't mean anything. Nothing.

"Besides," Logan continued, "rushing off to rescue damsels in distress can sometimes be a part of the job. Any woman wanting a relationship with me would have to accept that."

"Yeah because I'm sure that you frequently get dragged all over the country trying to stay ahead of flying bullets and speeding cars," Tara drawled sarcastically. Logan opened his mouth, almost as if to protest, but Tara waved her hand to dismiss the comment.

"Ignore me. I'm tired. I get weird when I'm tired."

"Only when you're tired?" Logan's lightly teasing tone made a small smile lift the corners of her mouth.

"Shut up." She tossed a crumpled up napkin at him, which he neatly dodged.

"You ready to get going?" He asked. She nodded. Logan gathered up the garbage from their meal and took it to the trash can before starting the car up again.

This time, they went to register for the room together. Tara let Logan do the talking and he noticed that it was because she was too busy scanning their surroundings. When the door opened behind them, she inched closer to him and slipped her hand into his. He squeezed it lightly in reassurance, though he turned his head. A couple with a young, sleeping child walked in. Tension slowly leaked from Logan's body. He turned back to the registration clerk and signed on the dotted line before accepting their room key.

"Please tell me it's not number thirteen," Tara muttered as they walked away from the reception desk. Logan chuckled and held the door open for her, realizing with a jolt that he was still holding onto her hand; and neither of them seemed in a hurry to let go. He checked the tag attached to the key.

"Number four," he told her. She wrinkled her nose.

"The number four is a bad omen in China, you know. Maybe we should ask if they have something else available," Tara said as Logan dropped her hand to unlock the door to their room. He gave a careful sweeping gaze of the room and stepped back so that she could walk in ahead of him. He closed and locked the door, turning the deadbolt even as he wished for a few extra barricades.

"I'm sure that you'd just find something wrong with the number of another room, so why don't we just not and say we did?" Logan suggested. Tara sighed and turned to look at him, her green eyes wide and just a little bit sad.

"What time are we going to leave in the morning?" She asked as she pulled the wig off and combed her fingers through her natural tresses.

"We have time before Jason contacts us," he reminded her, trying not to let the memory of crushing those silky black locks in his own fingers distract him from staying on point. "We could probably stay here for at least a day, maybe two, before moving on."

"But wouldn't it be best to just keep moving? If we jump around all over the map, won't it be harder to catch up to us?" Tara asked as she ducked into the bathroom with her new suitcase.