Free On His Honor by Jean Brashear

He backed up several steps and peered across the grounds, seeing the woman he was here to pick up kneeling and rubbing Skeeter enthusiastically.
    She looked about seventeen, her hair caught up in a ponytail, curls escaping all around her face. She, too, had jeans on, though he imagined hers probably cost much, much more than his. Whatever the cost, though, they were worth it. America’s Sweetheart had one very fine derriere and impressively long legs for someone barely medium height. She looked amazing.
    Whoa, boy. She’s a case, not a woman. Certainly not a woman you’ll ever find in your bed. Still, he changed course and crossed the grounds with long strides. Skeeter saw him first, barking a greeting, then racing his way.
    When the dog reached JD, he leapt to his hind legs and planted his forelegs on JD’s chest.
    “Still not doing so hot at the obedience lessons, huh, boy?” JD grinned and scratched behind Skeeter’s ears, then darted sideways, exciting the dog. They began to roughhouse.
    Violet approached. “He’s a great dog.”
    He was staring, he knew it, but couldn’t seem to do anything about it.
    The woman was just too beautiful to believe.
    Her head tilted curiously, then disappointment crossed her expression and she looked away.
    “I’m not thinking about how beautiful you are. I’m picturing you with a big wart on your nose.”
    Her head whipped back. “What did you say?”
    “You don’t like hearing that you’re beautiful. Picturing you with a big wart will keep me from being just one more person saying that.”
    A sideways glance. “You’re not into warts?” There was a tiny curve to her lips.
    “Well, now don’t get me wrong, with the right woman a wart could be just fine.”
    This smile was genuine.
    “I’m much more evolved than that,” he went on. “I couldn’t care less what a woman looks like. I’m blind to all but inner beauty.”
    At that she laughed. “I think I’ll try that wart image myself. I suspect you already have enough women falling all over you.”
    He grimaced. “Please, not you, too.”
    “But here’s the thing: handsome men are a dime a dozen where I live. I’m immune.”
    He stared at her. “That’s good…I think.” His forehead wrinkled.
    “I’m just saying…”
    “Consider me forewarned.” Well, now, this was…different. He saluted her then cleared his throat elaborately. “So, what’s your pleasure, ma’am? Where would you like to go?”
    “Surprise me,” she said.
    He considered her for a moment. “So are you a risk taker?”
    “I dropped out of college and left for Hollywood against my family’s wishes and with the sum total of three hundred dollars in my pocket, which I proceeded to lose the first week I lived in L.A.”
    “That only says you’re not too bright.”
    She laughed instead of taking offense, and that impressed him.
    “So how about now? Are you still adventurous, Ms. James?”
    Her smile dimmed. “I’m trying to be. It’s harder these days. Too many eyes watching. Too many people hoping I’ll screw up. I brought it on myself, though. If I hadn’t been ambitious, none of this would’ve happened.”
    “So where would you be now, if you hadn’t been ambitious?”
    She got this faraway look on her face. “Maybe back in Tennessee, maybe married to one of the boys I grew up with, a house full of kids…”
    He considered and rejected any number of responses. There was an element of wistfulness about her when she talked about a home, kids, as if she would trade being queen of the universe, arguably the most famous woman in America, for that life. But would she really trade her life for what many would consider mundane?
    Before he could decide, she straightened and tossed her head, sending that ponytail swinging. “So, what’s the plan, Mr. Bodyguard?”
    He winced. “Sure you don’t want to just hire a real bodyguard?” Immediately he cursed silently. Why had he even asked her? Ten minutes in, and he was letting