Part 16

On the one hand, allowing Ira out in public every day put her at risk of discovery. It wasn't smart.

On the other hand, being in the house alone with her spawned an unexpected war with Tawan's inner demons, and she wasn't sure who was winning. She was hyperaware of Earn's location at all times, which she tried to convince herself was just part of the job.

It wasn't.

Right now, Ira was one floor and a few steps away, curled up on the sofa like a contented cat. She was wearing that damned shirt that was a little too big. She never seemed to notice that it slipped down one arm to reveal a bare shoulder. She had no idea what that shoulder did to her.

The problem with a secure, off-the-grid location? There were no distractions. There was nothing for her to do but be close to Ira twenty-four seven and wait.

Wait for her team to make any kind of progress. Wait for the stalker to do something stupid. Wait for her to lose her own damn mind. She couldn't take a day off because the cover story she'd set up wouldn't allow her to bring in a replacement. It would cause too many questions.

She was stuck here with Ira looking like a present she'd like to unwrap. She scrubbed her face with both hands, then put on one of her dad's old work shirts and went out back to chop bamboo poles they didn't need for the kitchen fire. She set a thick bamboo stalk on the cutting block and faced it like an enemy.

Thwack!

It split cleanly, the two halves falling to the sides. She picked up the pieces, stacked them, then selected another stalk.

Thwack!

Late mornings were followed by afternoons and evenings at the restaurant, where Ira quickly shed that awkward first day like a worn-out coat. Now she tracked her tables like a veteran. She had a way of making everyone feel special and seen.

Even her.

Rule one slapped Tawan upside the head for what felt like the hundredth time this week. She's your protectee. Not your girlfriend. Remember She hit the next bamboo stalk a little harder.

Thwack!

Ira was in there. Right now. Bare shouldered.

Thwack!

It was getting hot out here, even with the occasional breeze rolling through the trees.

Thwack!

Thwack!

Thwack!

The smell of grilled meat reached her, making her mouth water. The neighbors must be barbecuing. Odd. The closest neighbors were in their seventies and didn't do that kind of thing anymore. But she hadn't been around much over the past couple of years. Things might have changed. She shrugged it off and hit another stalk.

Two days. They had two whole days with nowhere to go and nothing to do but stare at each other.

Thwack!

Her body quickly reminded her that there were a lot of ways to fill downtime.

An image of Ira wandering into the kitchen this morning in a T-shirt that barely reached her thighs flashed through her mind and revved up everything south of her navel.

Rule goddamned one, she reminded herself and split four more pieces of bamboo.

The muffled sound of a smoke alarm rang from inside the house. A second later, the kitchen window flew open, sending wisps of gray smoke curling into the sky. She threw her shirt on as she jogged back to the house. There was a fire extinguisher under the kitchen sink, but she doubted Ira knew that. She found her frantically waving a magazine at the smoke detector, trying to silence the high-pitched wail.

"Shit! Shut up, you stupid thing!" Ira spared a glance at her and cringed.

"Nothing's on fire. It's just smoke."

Smoke belched from the oven. Tawan arched an eyebrow. "Sure about that?"

Ira coughed into her elbow. "Sweet Jesus, that smell is vile."

Tawan crossed to the stove and peered at a baking sheet that contained two black lumps that might, at some point, have been chicken breasts. She tried really hard not to laugh. Ira had learned how to serve food, but her ability to cook it was nonexistent.

What had she been living on all these years?

Over the last week, they'd settled into a routine that felt entirely too comfortable. Late mornings were followed by afternoons and evenings at the restaurant, where Ira quickly shed that awkward first day like a worn-out coat. Now she tracked her tables like a veteran. She had a way of making everyone feel special and seen.

Even her.

Rule one slapped Tawan upside the head for what felt like the hundredth time this week. She's your protectee. Not your girlfriend. Remember She hit the next bamboo stalk a little harder.

Thwack!

Earn was in there. Right now. Bare shouldered.

Thwack!

It was getting hot out here, even with the occasional breeze rolling through the trees.

Thwack!

Thwack!

Thwack!

The smell of grilled meat reached her, making her mouth water.

The neighbors must be barbecuing.

Odd. The closest neighbors were in their seventies and didn't do that kind of thing anymore. But she hadn't been around much over the past couple of years. Things might have changed.

She shrugged it off and hit another stalk.

Two days.

They had two whole days with nowhere to go and nothing to do but stare at each other.

Thwack!

Her body quickly reminded her that there were a lot of ways to fill downtime.

An image of Earn wandering into the kitchen this morning in a T-shirt that barely reached her thighs flashed through her mind and revved up everything south of her navel.

Rule goddamned one, she reminded herself and split four more pieces of bamboo. The muffled sound of a smoke alarm rang from inside the house. A second later, the kitchen window flew open, sending wisps of gray smoke curling into the sky. She threw her shirt on as she jogged back to the house. There was a fire extinguisher under the kitchen sink, but she doubted Ira knew that. She found her frantically waving a magazine at the smoke detector, trying to silence the high-pitched wail.

"Shit! Shut up, you stupid thing!" Ira spared a glance at her and cringed.

"Nothing's on fire. It's just smoke."

Smoke belched from the oven. Tawan arched an eyebrow. "Sure about that?"

Ira coughed into her elbow. "Sweet Jesus, that smell is vile."

Tawan crossed to the stove and peered at a baking sheet that contained two black lumps that might, at some point, have been chicken.

She tried really hard not to laugh. Ira had learned how to serve food, but her ability to cook it was nonexistent.

What had she been living on all these years Someone else's cooking, she guessed.

"I don't know what I did wrong!" Ira shouted over the relentless blaring of the smoke detector. "The recipe said bake for forty minutes. It's only been ten."

"What temperature?"

"One seventy-five!" Earn stopped waving at the smoke detector and glared at it instead. "Doesn't this thing ever shut up?"

"Give it another minute or two. It'll reset." Tawan checked the oven settings and sighed.

"You have it on grill, not bake."

Ira blinked at her. "That's not the same thing?"

"No." Tawan turned off the oven. "And you managed to set the timer, not the temperature."

The smoke alarm finally stuttered to a stop, leaving them in blissful silence.

"Finally." Ira stuck out her tongue at it, then dropped the magazine on the counter. "So...can I interest you in some grilled, slightly blackened, probably raw chicken?"

Tawan's lips twitched, then stretched into a laugh.

"You're laughing at me." Ira put her hands on her hips. "I made you lunch and you're laughing at me."

"That's what that was?"

Ira wrinkled her nose at the charcoal-black chicken. "Sadly, yes."

Tawan jumped on the excuse to escape the stench and the temptations.

"Let's go out."

Ira looked relieved. "Good idea. Where? The restaurant? I still haven't tried the khao soi."

"It's your day off. Let's go somewhere you've never been."

Yeah, sure, said an inner voice that sounded a lot like Annie. That's why you want to go. It's definitely not because you like seeing her smile.

Ira raised her eyebrows. "Interesting. And easy enough since I haven't been many places around here. Where are we going? Should I change?"

"You might want to grab a rain jacket." It would cover up that damn shoulder. "I'll grab a quick shower, and we can get out of here." She started up the stairs. "Wear the boots."

"Okay," she drew the word out. Tawan thought she heard Ira say, "Boots. Because every nice meal needs heavy footwear."

She chuckled, then stripped to take yet another cold shower.

The place she took her was a thirty-minute drive and a million miles away from stalkers, stages, and screaming smoke detectors. The winding road stretched across rolling green hills and fields of ripening rice paddies.

"It's really beautiful out here," Ira said, gazing at the golden fields. "I used to love it when we toured by bus because the view was constantly changing. You really can't see how pretty a place is from a plane."

"Sure you can. Just a different perspective."

"I guess."

They passed a small sign that read 'Farm Next Right.'

"You're taking me to a farm?" Earn glanced at her. "Are we going to watch buffalo races?"

"You'll see."

Tawan didn't know why she was teasing her. This wasn't a date. She shifted in her seat, fully aware of how delusional that thought was. This had stopped being a protection detail a week ago, when she'd watched Earn drop that tray of mugs.

Her first impulse hadn't been to stay on the sidelines to watch for threats. No, her first impulse had been to get her a fresh shirt.

"So I guess we're not getting food out here." Ira licked her lips. "Shame. I could go for some grilled chicken."

"Not a lot of that in this part of the country."

"Isan farm?" She looked around. "Kalasin has some of the best rice fields. The jasmine rice from here is famous. You can't get stuff like that in Bangkok."

"True. But no. Not rice paddies."

"Bummer." She sighed like a melodramatic soap star. "You're a giant tease, you know that?"

"Sometimes." Tawan tried not to smile as she turned onto the narrow lane that led to the farm. The road pushed through golden fields of blooming sunflowers and opened onto a clearing that contained a traditional farmhouse on stilts, a large wooden barn, and several open-air structures covered in palm-leaf thatching.

It was a real working farm, but also a countryside attraction, complete with a play area filled with wooden swings and climbing structures, a you-pick sunflower field, and some of the best local street food stalls in the province. Families came from as far as Khon Kaen and Udon Thani to experience the annual sunflower festival and the famous maze made from sugarcane stalks, which changed layout every year.

Ira gave her a quizzical look. "Are we harvesting our own meal? We did one of those places once with Daddy. It was interesting. Ying loved it. She spent all her time chasing dragonflies. Kate and I ate more than we picked, and Wisanu spent most of his time trying to keep track of us."

Tawan pulled into an empty patch near a bamboo fence and parked. "It's something like that. Come on."

They got out and headed for a small wooden booth where entrance tickets were sold. Ira slipped her hand into Tawan's, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

The tall, dark-haired girl at the booth winked at them.

"Tawan?" She squinted, as if making sure she wasn't seeing things. Tawan chuckled. "Damn. It's been a while, huh?"

Ira eyed the girl curiously. Tawan turned to her. "Earn, this is Ploy. Her family runs this place." Ploy leaned on the counter with an easy grin. "Wow. I wondered if we'd see you two out here. Been a minute since you brought anyone, though."

Tawan dragged up what she knew about the youngest Hiranpruek sibling. She had three older brothers, but there was a significant age gap. If Tawan remembered right, Ploy was a surprise baby.

"You out of school?"

"Not yet. I took a year off to help out around here. I finish up my business degree next year. I'll be running things when my dad decides he's done chasing buffaloes."

Tawan nodded her approval. "Can't think of anybody better."

"Thanks." Ploy's eyes twinkled as she turned to Ira.

"Hey, Earn. I'm glad you're finally getting to explore the town. You two want the whole deal, or just the sunflowers?"

"Sunflowers?" Ira's eyes widened with delight. "You brought me to see the sunflowers?"

"Give us the whole deal," Tawan interjected, pulling out her wallet.

"Gotcha." Ploy took the money and handed her a flyer. "Entrance is through the bamboo gate. Have fun."

They stepped away from the booth.

"This is so cool!" Ira beamed at her. "Who needs dinner when you have sunflowers?"

"There's food out here, too." Tawan tried and failed to get the defensiveness out of her tone.

It was wrong. She knew it was wrong. This wasn't secure at all. It was too exposed. As a bodyguard, this was the last place she should have taken Ira. But she was starting to realize she'd bend a lot of rules just to see that look of joy on Earn's face.

"You know, underneath that serious, silent protector thing, you really are a sweet woman." Ira gave her arm a squeeze.

"Don't tell anybody."

Ira's eyes twinkled as she crossed her heart. "It'll be our secret."

Tawan led her through the bamboo gate to where a dirt path split off in three directions and scanned the area by force of habit. It was a fairly small crowd, considering how popular this place was. The entrance to the maze was surrounded by families laughing as their giggling kids tried to find their way out. Nobody stood out as a threat. They hadn't been followed. Nobody even knew they were here.

It was safe enough.

Tawan led Ira toward the food stalls. "Let's grab a bite and then check out the flowers."

"Okay." Ira's eyes danced with excitement as she looked around. "This reminds me of a temple fair. I hope they have something sweet."

After grabbing grilled pork skewers, followed by ice cream, which she ate with absolute delight, they followed a dirt path around the main area and over a small hill. Then, it came into view—acres of golden sunflowers, stretching as far as the eye could see, their massive blooms swaying gently in the warm afternoon breeze.

"Oh." Ira's slow smile brightened her face. "Oh. I love this. Have you ever seen anything so happy?"

She beamed at Tawan, then suddenly let go of her hand. "Race you to the middle!" She took off, glancing over her shoulder with a mischievous grin. "Come on!"

Tawan followed at a slower pace, torn between instincts. Should she stay back and make sure nobody approached Ira, or chase after her? Ira stopped and waved at her. "Hello! Are you going to let a girl beat you like that? What kind of athlete are you?"

Tawan hesitated for only a second before her feet decided for her. By the time she caught up, Ira giggled and darted into a row of sunflowers. She stopped mid-row and spun to face Tawan, her dyed red hair catching the golden sunlight, glowing like fire. The smile on her face made something inside Tawan tighten in a way she wished she could blame on the run.

"This is so cool! Look how tall they are. And so big! The ones at the restaurant weren't this gigantic. This one's bigger than my head!"

Ira pulled one down and covered her face with the blossom, then peeked out from behind the yellow petals, her red-dyed hair a striking contrast against the golden flower. The laughter in her eyes was worth bending a thousand rules.

Tawan smirked. "Glad you like it."

Ira released the stem and lifted her arms to the sky, twirling in place with her face tilted toward the sun. Tawan was completely and utterly doomed. It was all she could do not to grab Ira and kiss her right there. Before she could do something reckless, Tawan pulled out a small pocketknife and cut off a slightly smaller bloom. "Here."

Ira's face softened as she took the flower from her hand. "Thank you."

Tawan coughed. "Sure."

Then Ira touched her arm—just a soft brush of her fingers, warm and lingering. When she looked into Tawan's eyes, it felt like the air between them shifted, charged like an oncoming summer storm. Ira's lips parted slightly, then closed again, as if she'd stopped herself from saying something. Then she glanced down at the flower, breaking the moment.

Tawan exhaled and shoved her hands into her pockets to stop herself from reaching for Ira. Ira tucked the sunflower behind her ear. The yellow petals spilled into her fiery red-dyed hair, the contrast mesmerizing. Then the flower teetered and fell.

Ira chuckled as she picked it up. "Okay, this one's a little big. Maybe I'll just hold it."

Tawan gestured to the rows of towering sunflowers. "It's the last week. You can take as many as you can carry."

"Really? We can take them home?" Ira lit up, looking at her like she'd just handed her gold.

"I said 'as many as you can carry,'" Tawan teased. "That doesn't mean you have to empty the whole field."

Ira grinned. "Oh, I can carry a lot."

They had wandered deep into the sunflower field, surrounded by towering stalks swaying gently in the warm breeze. The afternoon sun cast golden light across the endless sea of yellow and green. Ira spread her arms wide, grinning. "Go for it."

Tawan shook her head at Ira's enthusiasm but still dutifully cut the stem of the sunflower she had pointed to.

"These will look perfect in the living room," Ira said as she adjusted the growing bundle of flowers in her arms. "Oh, and they'll totally match the curtains in the kitchen. It could use a little brightening after what I did to it this morning."

Tawan smirked. "Still trying to cover up your kitchen disaster?"

"I'm rebranding it," Ira said solemnly. "I prefer 'artistic miscalculation.'"

She plucked at another stalk. "Let's start with this one."

Tawan cut the stem without complaint, following her up and down the rows of golden blooms as she searched for the "perfect specimens." It was easy to forget there were other people out here. The sunflower fields stretched for acres, thick and tall, turning the world into a private maze of green stalks and golden petals.

For once, there was nothing to worry about. No threats. No danger. No hiding.

Just Ira.

"Why does Ratchanee want you to sell your house so badly?" Ira asked suddenly, adjusting the flowers in her arms. Tawan frowned at the abrupt change in subject. Then her conversation with her ex came back. "She thinks she can turn back time." Ira picked another flower for her to cut. "I don't see how you selling your house helps her do that."

"She doesn't just want it sold. She wants to buy it." Tawan's voice was flat. "She's always loved that house."

Ira studied the deep gold bloom Tawan had just handed her. "The house? Or someone who lived there?"

Tawan grunted. "She loved an idea."

"Hmm." Ira sounded doubtful. "So this 'idea' she's in love with... it's never going to become reality?"

"Meaning?"

"She won't ever get you to change your mind about her... idea?"

"Hell no."

Ira looked extremely satisfied with that answer. "Good. Because Earn promised your brother she'd burn the place down before we let Ratchanee have it."

Tawan barked out a laugh. "How'd Kai take that?"

"Oh, he doesn't want you to sell either. I doubt anyone does—except Ratchanee."

Ira pointed at a bloom so massive it could cover her chest. "That one. Definitely." Tawan reached in to cut the thicker stalk. "Not sure this will fit in the car."

"Did you know Kai was maintaining the house before we got here?" Ira said casually. "Mowing the lawn, trimming the bushes every Saturday? He only stopped when we arrived because he wasn't sure you'd want him to keep coming over."

That surprised Tawan. "I thought my dad was paying a service, not him. Surprised he doesn't want me to sell. It'd be less work for him." Ira scoffed. "I'm not surprised at all. You should hear how he talks about it. He loves that house." She gave Tawan a sly sideways glance. "It's yours."

Tawan exhaled sharply. "It was my mom's house."

"Not to him."

Silence fell between them as they walked further down an extra-long row, their fingers brushing against the rough sunflower stalks. After a few moments, Ira paused at a cluster of red-tinged blooms.

"Why are you holding onto it so tight?" she asked, voice softer now. "I mean, I know why I would. But why areyou?"

She tugged one of the deeper red sunflowers toward her and grinned. "Oh, I love this one. It matches my hair."

Tawan let out a small laugh, glad for the change in subject. "Your hair's brighter."

Ira stretched out a handful of her dyed-red hair, trying to see them in the sunlight. "Really? I can't tell. I'll take your word for it." She plucked the flower's stem and twirled it between her fingers. "And don't think I didn't notice you dodging my question. I see you, Warden."

She gave her a knowing, mischievous look.

"Tawan," she corrected, cutting the stalk and handing it to Ira. She never talked about the house with anyone, not since the day her father had signed it over to her.

"So you always have a place to come home to."

It was an unspoken, unexamined understanding between them. Neither of them wanted to sell the house because doing that would be like losing her mother all over again. That wasn't going to happen. Ever. Not that she'd ever said that out loud.

"You'd keep it?" she asked, trying to sound casual, but even to her own ears, her voice was tight.

"Oh yes. Definitely. It's... well, home." Ira shrugged. "That's not easy to find, you know? My dad sold our house when we started touring. But even if he hadn't, I'm not sure I'd want to go back there because truth is, it's notmyhome. It's just a house. My whole life has been on the road with my siblings. Home is wherever they are."

"Your childhood was very different from mine." Tawan cut another stem. "I didn't see anything outside of Thailand until I joined military overseas."

"I can't even imagine what that's like. Sitting in one place for me would basically be torture. Come to think of it, that's exactly what I thought this would be." She chuckled. "I like moving around. I like seeing new places and people. But I think for you, this town and that house are your anchors. I mean that in a good way, not in a trapped kind of way. I felt that the second I walked through the door.

It wraps around you like a hug. No matter what happened when you were seventeen, it's still your home. That's why you brought me here, isn't it? Because it feels safe?"

Tawan exhaled, her grip tightening around the shears. "It's better to stake your ground somewhere familiar." She told herself that was all it was.

Logical. Practical. Even if it was a little uncomfortable having Ira infiltrate her personal life so completely.

"Tell me about your mother. Please?" Ira asked softly. "She must have been an amazing woman."

"She was."

Maybe it was the way Ira said it, or the easy way they had been talking while they picked flowers. Maybe it was just that this was the most relaxed Tawan had felt in months.

So she told her.

"She loved to paint. All of the paintings in the house are hers. There's more scattered around town, especially in Dad's restaurant. Aunt Sunitha kept some, too."

"I'm not surprised. She was really talented." Ira nodded like she'd been an art expert her entire life. Then she gave a rueful sigh.

"I've never even tried to sketch something, much less paint."

"Me either."

Ira tilted her head. "What else?"

Tawan sifted through once painful memories, finding it not nearly as hard as she'd expected.

"She sponsored all of my school basketball friend's trips, even the ones that took us all over the country for tournaments. Her green curry always won the contest at the temple festival." She studied the flowers without really seeing them. "She had a kind word for everybody, and she was everybody's mom. She never met a kid she didn't take under her wing. Including Ratchanee. Guess that's why she likes the house so much."

"Hmm. Not sure that's the whole reason." Ira tugged a flower down to her face and sniffed.

"I never knew my mom. I always wondered what that would have been like."

"Mine would have adopted you, too, if you'd been here."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I didn't suffer. I had my siblings. Ying's been like a mom to me my whole life. It's not exactly the same, though. Not that I'd ever tell her that."

Ira pointed at another stalk for her to cut. Her arms were getting full, but Tawan had a feeling she'd keep going until they overflowed.

"How did someone like your mom... Well, out here, it just seems so far away from the crazy. You know? How did she wind up with a stalker?"

Tawan's jaw clenched. She stabbed the next stalk a little more viciously than she intended.

"He knew her in high school."

Ira's fingers tightened around the flower in her hand.

"His name is Anan Ritthirong. His family moved to Kalasin when he was sixteen. According to my dad, he managed to worm his way into my mother's circle of friends. He had several classes with her, and he seemed harmless enough, at the time. It wasn't obvious at first. But he was always there. Always asking for help with schoolwork, always finding excuses to be near her. They brushed off his attempts to get close as just awkward social skills, but that's the thing about stalkers."

Tawan stopped cutting flowers and looked at Ira.

Ira had covered her panic button pendant with one hand as if to reassure herself that it was still there. She watched Tawan with wide eyes.

"Most of the time, it's someone familiar. Someone who's already there in the background."

Tawan's voice lowered.

"Like Hannibal Lecter says, we covet what we see every day."

Ira shivered, but it wasn't from the breeze. She had to see the similarities between Tawan's mother's case and her own.

Even if they hadn't pinned down who it was, Tawan's gut still told her it was someone Ira had already met. Maybe even someone she'd smiled at. Signed an autograph for.

She might have even gone on a date with him once or twice. Ira swallowed and pointed. "That one. With the splotch on the side."

Tawan snipped the one she indicated and handed it to her.

"I shouldn't be telling you about this."

"Yes. You should." Ira placed a soft hand on Tawan's arm. "I want to know. It helps."

Tawan wasn't sure if she meant it would help her deal with her own situation, or if she thought it would help Tawan deal with her own.

"The day she died was the first time I saw him." Her voice was even, but a storm brewed beneath the surface. "Hell, it was the first time I'd even heard about him. Mom and I were at the market, and boom—there he was."

Tawan's grip on the flowers tightened. "He kept getting closer. Asking Mom questions. Like he was an old friend catching up. But I could tell he made her edgy. The way he wouldn't back off... so desperate to get her attention... it tripped my trigger."

"What did your mom do?" Ira asked quietly.

"She blew it off. Told me not to worry about it. That he was harmless. Just someone who had a crush on her back in the day. No big deal."

Tawan stared at the flowers but felt Ira's gaze burning into her. She knew this was hitting too close to home.

"I couldn't let it go. So when she dropped me off at basketball practice, I waited in the parking lot instead of going to the court. I just had this feeling that he'd been following her, you know?"

Tawan's jaw clenched. "Sure enough, just after she left, his motorbike showed up."

"We jumped onto Brick's bike and took off after them, but..." Tawan's voice faltered.

She could still hear the roar of the engines, still feel the vibration of the road under her feet, still see the way the world had shifted in a single, violent second.

"We couldn't catch up."

A muscle in Tawan's jaw ticked as she forced the words out. "We barely made it in time to see him cut in front of her. He was trying to get her to stop, but they were on the bridge. There's no shoulder. She swerved to avoid him—then went over."

"Oh my God." The sunflowers tumbled from Ira's arms. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth. "You saw it. You were there and you saw it happen. I didn't know. I'm so sorry."

Tawan half shrugged and looked away. The flowers blurred into a mass of green and yellow.

"I shouldn't have told you all that. It was inappropriate."

"You needed to tell someone." Ira's arms wrapped around her, squeezing tight. She buried her head against Tawan's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that happened to her. To you. To your dad. It's not right."

For a long moment, Tawan let herself sink into the comfort of Ira's arms. She needed this. Every time she crossed that bridge, she remembered. Every time she came home, she remembered. But she'd never told anyone.

Until now.

When they pulled apart, Ira's eyes were glassy. She'd been silently crying the tears Tawan refused to shed, and it almost broke her. Tawan looked away. She had to get a grip.

"No wonder you don't want to spend any time here," Ira whispered.

Tawan rubbed the back of her neck. Her whole body ached—from the physical work earlier, from this emotional unraveling now. "It was a long time ago. I'm past it."

"Not sure I'd ever get past that." Ira hugged herself like she was cold. "Not sure anyone could."

Tawan knelt to gather the flowers Ira had dropped. "That's why I won't sell the house. Not to Ratchanee. Not to anybody. Mom loved the life she built in that house."

"So do you." Ira's voice was quiet but sure. "It's okay to say it, you know. You should love that house. It definitely loves you."

Ira joined her, carefully stacking flowers into a bundle that reached past her shoulder. "Did they catch the guy?"

Tawan's hands tightened around the stalks. "They didn't." She grabbed a stray flower. "I did."

Ira blinked at her. "What did you do when you caught him?"

Tawan forced herself to relax her grip, but the old rage still simmered.

"I dragged him off his busted-ass bike and beat the shit out of him."

A long pause.

"If it weren't for Brick, I'd have killed him. I wanted to."

She swallowed against the bitterness rising in her throat. Ira had to know. She had to understand the kind of person she was standing next to. That Tawan was someone who could kill a man... that man... and not think twice about it.

Ira's voice was soft but sure.

"I would have done the same thing."

Her hands curled into fists.

"If I could."

She took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. "But the lady who was driving drunk never even knew she hit my dad. They both died that day. I wanted so much to be mad, to have someone to shout at or beat up. But there was nobody. It would have felt good to have someone to punch, I think."

Tawan let out a slow breath. "Be glad you didn't."

She handed Ira a bunch of stems and watched as she carefully arranged them.

"It didn't really help."

She paused, voice rough. "It changed my life. Not just because Mom was gone. Ritthirong got off light because of what I did. He was sentenced to seven years for vehicular manslaughter. Got out in five. He's now working as a mechanic at a garage in Khon Kaen."

Ira's head snapped up. "Seven years."

She sat back on her heels, balancing the flowers on her lap. "That's it? Seven years?"

"His lawyer spun some bullshit about how it was all just an accident. That he was the real victim because I pounded on him for—and I quote—'no good reason.'"

Tawan's voice was like stone.

"It wasn't just an accident. I saw him push up next to her and jerk the wheel. Saw him run right into her. But I was just a teenager. And I was the one who beat the son of a bitch to within an inch of his life, so they didn't take my word for it."

Silence.

Then, Ira's voice was barely a whisper.

"Now you protect people like me."

She looked up, eyes unreadable.

"Even when you hate them."

Tawan met her gaze, steady.

"I don't hate you."

Ira's breath caught.

"...You don't?"

The insecurity in Ira's voice echoed in her dark amber eyes. It tugged at Tawan's heart to think that the woman who commanded millions of fans—who had an entire nation hanging on her every move—wanted her approval.

"I never hated you."

Ira let out a breathless laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Really? Because it sure seemed like you did."

"I didn't."

Tawan stood abruptly, offering a hand to help her up. "We should go."

"Oh." Ira fumbled with the long flower stalks, tucking them neatly into the crook of one arm, before reaching for Tawan's hand.

The moment their fingers touched, Tawan felt it. Warm. Familiar. Like coming home. Something flickered across Ira's face—an unspoken invitation. She leaned in, her lips slightly parted, the late afternoon sun casting a golden glow across her delicate features.

Tawan wanted to say yes.

She wanted to know what Ira's lips tasted like. She wanted to feel Ira's legs wrapped around her waist, right here in this field, with ethics and professionalism be damned.

The world around them faded, the rustling sunflowers nothing more than a whisper against the thundering of Tawan's pulse. Her grip tightened on Ira's hand, and she tilted her head—just enough.

So close. Too close.

Logic and reason pounded at her skull. This was beyond bending the rules. This was breaking them. Ira was her client.

Her protectee.

And the mission wasn't over. Tawan let go of Ira's hand. Took a step back. The space between them filled with regret.

Ira's expression shuttered. "You might not hate me, but you don't like me."

Her voice cracked just a little.

"You still see me as the pop princess."

Tawan clenched her jaw. "It doesn't matter how I see you, Earn."

She bent down to pick up the flowers Ira had dropped, then handed them back.

"I have a job to do."

Ira searched her face, eyes pleading for something Tawan couldn't give.

"That's all I am?" Her voice was quiet. "Just a job?"

Tawan forced her face into a neutral mask. "That's it."

Ira pressed her lips together, her grip tightening on the flowers.

She looked down, nodding slightly, as if convincing herself of something. "Well, it's not my job, so I can say this."

She inhaled slowly before meeting Tawan's gaze again.

"I didn't like you when we met either."

A humorless smile played at the corner of her lips.

"I thought you were a robot masquerading as a human. You were a jerk who thought I was a selfish, self-centered party girl."

Ira let out a small chuckle. "And it's okay. You were right."

Tawan's throat felt tight.

"But you constantly surprise me. You brought me home and introduced me to your family. You've made this entire thing a lot easier for me—even if it was because you had to, and even when I acted like a spoiled brat. I think this place is special, and I'll always be grateful that I got the chance to know you. So thank you. For telling me about your mother. For bringing me here."

Ira turned, gazing over the golden fields of sunflowers. The saddest, smallest smile touched her lips.

"I'm really happy I got to see this."

She hesitated, then added, "For what it's worth, I don't hate you anymore."

Ira's voice softened, a quiet confession.

"I like you. A lot."

Tawan's heart twisted painfully. For a moment, the heaviness in her chest lifted. For a moment, it didn't matter that she wasn't supposed to care.

Ira glanced at her, then looked down, her gaze settling somewhere in front of Tawan's feet.

"...Not that it matters."

Tawan felt something in her crack wide open.

Hell.

It did matter.

It mattered entirely too much.

And this was why she had rule one in the first damn place. Remember the mission, and remember what happened last time you failed.