Passenger Princess: A Grumpy Sunshine Bodyguard Pageant Queen Romance (Evergreen Park Book 1)
Passenger Princess: Chapter 40

Utah is our next stop, and I’d be lying if I said this state hadn’t been way, way, way at the bottom of places I’m excited to go on this tour. Not because Utah isn’t gorgeous and exciting and interesting. I’m sure it is. I’m sure it could even be the most interesting of the states we’re traveling through.

But I could give two fucks about it because it’s the home state of both Regina Miller and Anne Holmes, and I could go an entire lifetime without seeing either of them again, much less with the added bravado of being in their home state.

‘It’s going to be just fine,’ Jaime says, running a hand down my back as I spray on some perfume.

He’s taken to doing this, hanging out in the bathroom while I get ready, and each time, it makes my belly flip. He’ll sit in close quarters watching me do something silly he has no interest in just because he wants to spend time with me or because it makes me happy.

‘I know. I just think skipping this entire stop would be much more enjoyable,’ I grumble, leaning in to put a swipe of some lipstick on.

‘Yes, but the joy Anne would get from you skipping her home state would eat at you forever. Imagine having to look at her for the rest of the tour, knowing she knows she gets under your skin.’

I scrunch my nose in disgust because that sounds even worse than spending the entire day with Anne. It would be letting her win, even if it’s in such a minuscule way, and that I won’t be doing.

‘You’re right,’ I grumble.

‘I’m always right,’ he says, staring, then slaps my ass, walking toward the living area. ‘Come on, we have to get going.’

‘Jaime!’ I shout through a laugh. Seeing Jaime break out of his rigid shell, goof around with me more, and push my buttons back has been a joy. It’s like once he decided we were crossing that line, something in him snapped, letting him be himself completely. It turns out his real self isn’t too far from his bodyguard self—uptight, much too careful, and definitely grumpy—but he’s also just a tad more fun.

‘Gotta go, or you’re gonna be late, which Anne and Regina would love to use as yet another reason to hate you.’

I pout at the reflection in the mirror. ‘Ugh, I almost let myself forget she’d be there too. Why can’t you ever just let me live in my delusion?’

Grabbing my crown, I carefully place it on my head, pinning it in place and turning left and right to check it from all angles. I don’t wear it to every event, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t make an effort to wear it at any event Anne would be attending, too.

‘Because one of us has to be grounded in reality, and it’s sure as fuck not going to be you.’

I smile at him sweetly. He’s not wrong.

‘Okay, how do I look?’ I ask as I walk out of the bathroom. Jaime is scrolling his phone but presses off the wall he’s leaning on when I walk in. He slides his phone into his pocket and takes a few steps until he’s close enough to pull me into him.

‘Fucking beautiful,’ he murmurs against my lips.

‘Don’t mess up my lipstick.’

His lips tip up, the hand I put to his cheek feeling rather than seeing the dimple emerge.

‘Deal. I’ll do that later.’

‘Yes, please,’ I whisper. He steps back abruptly, a hand on my waist keeping me from toppling over before I get rid of the Jaime-induced vertigo and can stand on my own. ‘Rude.’

‘Later, Princess.’ His hand reaches up, touching one of the gems on my crown. ‘You know, the first time I saw you in this, I was so fucking pissed.’

‘Yeah, I know, trust me. You thought I was some chick trying to sneak into the Atlas Oaks section.’

‘That wasn’t why I was pissed.’

I look at him, confused, and he steps away, hauling my bag over his shoulder and putting a hand on the door to open it. He looks at me before he does, a small smile on his lips, and I just know whatever he’s about to say is going to pack a punch.

‘Oh?’

‘No, baby, I wasn’t pissed because you were trying to get into the section. I was pissed because all I could think about was what it would be like to fuck you wearing nothing but that crown.’

A rush of heat runs through my body, making my head light and my toes tingle, but Jaime opens the door, steps out, and holds it open for me.

‘After you, Princess.’

When we walk into the gymnasium, dozens of preteen and teenage girls start whispering, some excitedly, some with a look of irritation that matches the redhead at the front of the room. For Utah’s stop, I’m joining Anne and a few other Miss Americana contestants at an assembly with the Girl Scouts of Utah, an organization for which she was a part of her entire childhood and is now a spokesperson for.

It’s strange, considering every other stop we’ve highlighted my mission of supporting small women-owned businesses, but I’ve come to learn to just let things roll when it comes to the Miss Americana organization.

After I answer a few questions to the dozen or so reporters that are now lining the back of the high school gymnasium, I’m given a mic, and Anne and I stand on the small stage at the front of the room. She’s blathering on about how important this is to her, and I’m forcing myself not to zone out when she turns to me.

‘So, what have you prepared for us today?’ Anne says, a catty smile on her lips, and suddenly, I get the feeling I am being so totally fucked and not in the fun Jaime way.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Well, you did prepare something to show the girls, correct? A life lesson you can share with them, something you can teach them…that was the whole point of you coming here, after all.’ I smile and try to fight the urge to claw her eyes out. ‘It was all in the email Regina sent you,’ she says, a stage whisper spoken directly into the microphone she’s holding before giving an apologetic look to the girls.

It’s one of the fakest looks I’ve ever seen in my life.

‘I’m so sorry, girls. Give us a second. There seems to be an issue with…preparation. Miss New Jersey wasn’t a Girl Scout, so she doesn’t know our number one rule!’ I don’t miss how she always refuses to call me Miss Americana.

The girls reply in unison, the first cardinal rule of being a Girl Scout or whatever like a creepy little girl army. ‘Always be prepared!’

‘I didn’t receive any emails from anyone,’ I say low to Anne, and she gives me a sad smile.

‘Well, I guess you’re just going to let all of these girls down,’ she says, not tampering with her voice to be between just us and waving her arm elegantly to the room.

Irritation and anger brew within me, simmering and simmering until I start to feel my boiling point nearing. My eyes move along the room, trying to bring myself back to reality to figure out what to do next. That’s when I see Regina standing in the wings, a smug smile on her face, and somehow, I know.

This is intentional.

This is to make me look bad because she can’t stand me. She can’t stand that I won her precious little contest and don’t fit the stupid mold she thinks all women should fit into.

She’s so furious I haven’t heeded her warnings and haven’t fallen into line that she’s willing to embarrass me, knowing it won’t stay contained to just this event since my every move has become public interest. Reporters in the back of the gym click their cameras, and girls start whispering amongst themselves in the crowd.

But Regina Miller doesn’t know me nearly as well as she thinks she does.

Because if there’s one thing I am, it’s stubborn as fuck.

My eyes shift, my mind moving to try and think of what to do when I see it, the perfect answer to my problems.

He seems to be the answer to everything these days: my happiness, my orgasms, my safety. Jaime stands there, arms crossed on his chest, wearing an olive green T-shirt pulled tight against muscles and his broad chest, and a pair of black cargo pants looking like a real-life GI Joe doll to my Barbie.

God, it’s perfect, isn’t it?

And he is so going to hate this.

I ignore that thought, deciding I can deal with his blowback after I turn and smile wide at Anne, whose own smug smile falters a bit, her perfect forehead creasing as I speak.

‘You know, this actually is a wonderful opportunity to share something I’ve been working on a lot lately,’ I say excitedly. ‘Recently, I had an incident where someone put their hands on me without my permission.’ My eyes move to the crowd, and the girls whisper and nod since the incident was widely publicized. ‘And it really opened my eyes to how it’s become a woman’s job to know how to protect herself in any situation. I’m incredibly fortunate nothing terrible happened, but that’s not always the case.’ I hear the shutters of cameras, and I keep my shoulders back, my chin tipped up, my crown on straight.

Shoulders back, tits out, you got this bitch, runs through my mind, and I remember why I’m here, what brought me here.

I’m Ava motherfucking Bordeaux.

I won an entire nationwide pageant on a whim.

I can handle a bunch of petty ass bitches who think they’re better than everyone.

‘After the incident, my security offered to teach me a bit about self-defense, and it’s been one of the greatest things I’ve done. It taught me about how to be more aware of my surroundings and has given me the skills to feel a bit more comfortable and confident. If you’re interested, I’d love to teach you guys a few basic moves so you can feel the same.’ The girls cheer, and slowly, the panic dissipates.

I’ve got this.

I can do this.

I just need…an assistant.

Finally, I hold a hand out toward the wings of the stage, locking eyes with Regina, her face in an ugly frown now, confirmation that she wanted me to flounder, wanted to teach me some kind of lesson.

But I’m a Jersey girl. I’m gonna bounce back when you give me an obstacle. I’m going to do it looking really fucking good, and I’m going to smile while I do it.

‘Jaime, do you mind stepping out onto the stage to help me out?’ I say with a smile. His arms move, dropping from his chest, and he shakes his head, mouthing absolutely not. I give him wide eyes and try to convey, come on, Big Guy, help a girl out.

When he doesn’t budge, I turn to the audience, not missing Anne’s slight smirk at my attempt at trying to fix this mess I’ve been pulled into, and place my hands on my hips, showing a faux-disappointed look on my face.

‘It seems my friend Jaime is being a bit shy,’ I say with a cringe, and the girls in the crowd play along with an exaggerated awww. ‘Can you guys help me convince him to come help? Jaime, Jaime.’ I start the chant, but it doesn’t take much more than that to get this crowd in on the fun, and soon, the entire room is loud with chants of Jaime’s name.

I turn to where he stands, a slightly entertained look on his face as he looks at his feet and shakes his head. I’m prepared to turn back to the crowd and attempt the presentation on my own or to maybe force Anne into being my attacker (hell, it might even be preferable, considering how much I’d love to kick her ass) when he looks up at me and takes a step forward.

Hot and a team player? God, could he be any more perfect?

Instantly, when the girls see him, they start to cheer, and a blush comes over his cheeks.

‘Say hello to Jaime, girls!’ I shout, and in near unison, one hundred girls all yell hello, Jaime!

His arm lifts, and he waves, shifting from embarrassed to a bit of a ham, smiling wide and making me melt.

‘Do you mind helping me show these girls a few moves?’

‘Anything for you, Princeses,’ he says. It’s a slip of the tongue, our personal comfort behind closed doors, but it plays perfectly into the characters we’re playing right now, and I fucking love it.

When I look over his shoulder, Regina stands, her jaw tight and irritated.

I wink at her, enjoying my win just a bit too much.