Cavanaugh's Bodyguard Read Online Free PDF Page B

of anything else you forgot to mention, anything comes back to you—” he tapped the card with his finger “—call me.”
    Quest shifted his glance toward Bridget. “I’d rather call her.”
    Information was information, Bridget reasoned. Inclining her head in silent assent, she placed her card next to Josh’s on the shiny bar.
    “Fine. Here’s my card. Just remember,” she informed the man cheerfully as she stepped back, “we’re a set.”
    “He was trying to hit on you,” Josh told her as they walked out of the club three minutes later. The fact that it bothered him was only because he was being protective of his partner. Or so he told himself. Bridget seemed unaware that she had this aura of sexuality about her and it was up to him to make sure no one tried to take advantage of that.
    Right, like she can’t take care of herself, Josh silently mocked himself.
    He blew out a breath. Maybe he needed more aspirins to clear his head a little better.
    Bridget headed straight for the car. “He’s lucky I didn’t hit him back,” she retorted, then complained, “I thought bartenders were supposed to have such great memories.”
    “Sometimes they’re paid not to have them,” Josh speculated, aiming his remote at the car. It squawked in response as four side locks sprang up at attention.
    Bridget paused beside the vehicle. “You think he knows more than he’s saying?”
    Josh laughed shortly. He looked at her over the car’s roof. “It would be hard for him to know less. Let’s talk to her boyfriend and find out if he knows who she was partying with last night.”
    She nodded. “Maybe one of them remembers something about this guy who was staring at her.”
    Getting into the front passenger seat, Bridget buckled up and then let out a loud sigh. After Josh pulled out of the area and back onto the road again, she turned toward him and asked, “So, what kind of a dog?” When he didn’t answer and just looked at her as if she had lapsed into monosyllabic gibberish, she added, “For your mother. You said you were getting a dog for your mother, remember?”
    Now her question made sense. But he’d mentioned the dog over an hour ago, before they had gone in to question the bartender.
    “Boy, talk about your long pauses.” Josh laughed. “That almost came out of nowhere.”
    It was all connected in her head. She didn’t see why he was having such a hard time with it. “Well, talking about the dog in your mother’s future didn’t exactly seem appropriate while we were questioning that bartender about a homicide right behind the club where he works,” she told Josh, then got back on track. “So? Have you decided what kind you’re getting?”
    He hadn’t gone much beyond the fact that he was getting his mother a canine companion sometime in the near future. If she had a pet to take care of, she wouldn’t have as much time to nag him about settling down and giving her grandchildren.
    “I thought maybe one of those fluffy dogs,” he answered.
    Off the top of her head, she could think of about twenty breeds that matched that description. “Well, that narrows it down.”
    She’d managed to stir his curiosity. “Why are you so interested in what kind of dog I’m going to wind up giving to my mother?”
    She was just trying to be helpful. “A couple of the Cavanaughs actually don’t strap on a gun in the morning. One of them is a vet who also works with Aurora’s canine division, does their routine checkups, takes care of them if they get hurt, things like that. I think her name’s Patience. Anyway, I thought you might want to talk to her, ask her some questions about the best kind of dog for your mother.”
    That didn’t sound like a half-bad idea, he supposed since he didn’t really know what he was doing. When he was a kid, he’d never owned a dog, never wanted to get attached to anything after his father’s death.
    “Maybe I will.” He flashed Bridget a grin as he sailed through a yellow