by Shayla Black
“I would, but it seems like what you really want is to be able to take care of yourself.”
“Do you blame me?”
After all she’s been through? “No. I respect the hell out of it. And I want to help you.”
“Even though you want to take care of the women around you?”
“Yes.” But the truth is, I want to take care of Mandy more than I ever did Ellie. “I’m protective, not a pig.”
That earns me another genuine smile. Then she shocks me by reaching for my hand and tangling her fingers with mine. “Show me where you’d like to open your range?”
“Sure.” I hope her interest is a sign that she’s starting to think about what something more than a week with me and as something more than her bodyguard would be like. “It’s on our way to the grocery store.”
I head down the highway, windows down, enjoying the warm Hawaiian air. In Colorado, we’d still be wondering if Mother Nature had another snow or two for us before spring bloomed. But Maui? It’s eternal summer here. I’d never need another winter jacket or warm boots. I could live year-round in tank tops and flip-flops. That suddenly seems like paradise to me. It would be even better if I could persuade Mandy to stay with me and give us a try.
A few minutes later, I turn off the main drag and into a light industrial zone. It’s not far off the beaten path, and there’s a place to affix a sign to the building that would make it visible to the busy adjacent street. We drive around the block, and I describe what I’d do to the guest area, how I’d arrange the rentals, the gun sales, and the private lessons. Before I know it, I’m even telling her what I’d like to do with the firing lanes that differ from what we saw today.
When I finally glance at her as I ease back onto the highway, I’m grateful her eyes aren’t glazed over. In fact, she has some ideas about how to make the whole thing more female friendly—and I welcome that. I want women to feel empowered and have the confidence of knowing they can protect themselves, their loved ones, and their children if they really had to.
“Thanks for the suggestions.”
She shrugs. “Just my observations. They may seem silly, but I think they’d make a difference.”
“If a few minor visual adjustments will help women relax and learn their best when they’re with me, I’m all about it.”
I get another genuine smile. “I love that your ego isn’t the first thing you think about.”
And I’ll bet Barclay’s was. “Nope. Everyone has a different perspective, and I’m always willing to listen. I may not agree, but I’m also perfectly comfortable respecting someone else’s point of view, even if I don’t share it.”
“Me, too. Barclay…”
“Took it personally if you didn’t fall in line?”
“He took everything personally.”
“Why did you fall for him?” I can’t resist asking. “I know it’s none of my business, and you can tell me to shut the hell up, but you’re so…”
“Naive?” she supplies, rolling her eyes at herself.
She was, but that’s hardly her fault, especially if Griff’s speculation is true. “I was going to say honest, caring, and reasonable.”
Mandy sighs. “Thank you. But I think some of those traits were actually my downfall. I believed what he told me. I took it all at face value. I didn’t question him as much as I should have because I wanted the illusion to be true so badly.”
“I’m sorry he wasn’t everything you thought he’d be.”
“Not even close, but I learned a lot.”
“Like what?”
She cocks her head. “Mostly? To trust my gut. I didn’t listen to it at all with Barclay and I should have.”
In some ways, I think I did the same with Ellie. At the very least, I didn’t question the longevity of our connection. I definitely didn’t second-guess where we were heading when we started growing apart. With Amanda, every instinct I have is telling me that we’d be good for each other, that I should hold her tightly and never let go.
“Did you love him?”
“For a long time, I thought I did. But I didn’t know what love was.”
Because when he first seduced her, she was too young to comprehend? “How did you two get together?”
The second the question is out of my mouth, her face closes up. “I’m not ready to talk about it. Sorry. Let’s get the groceries, pick Oliver up, and make some dinner.”
Subject closed. Because she’s embarrassed; I sense that’s at least part of it. The rest? Back to trust. The fact I don’t have hers chafes, but we’ve literally known each other twelve hours. Hell, maybe I’m the crazy one for thinking thoughts of tomorrow, commitments, and our future. But acknowledging that isn’t changing a damn thing.
“All right.” I withdraw my hand and settle it back on the steering wheel.
“Tanner?” She moves her palm over to my thigh, surprising me.
“Yeah.”
“I want to tell you, but I’m afraid you’ll judge me.”
It’s a step forward. It’s more honest than she had been even a few hours ago. “I won’t.”
“You don’t know that,” she argues. “I’m sure a lot of people would tell me I’m getting what I deserve. I knew what I was doing was wrong and I did it anyway.”
“I’m not most people. I’m on your side. But I want you to feel comfortable. If you’re not…you’re not.”
She’s quiet such a long time, I’m sure the conversation is over. Finally, she sighs. “I’m still thinking. You know, about…us. But if we decide to try, um…moving forward, I’ll tell you everything.”
I wish she was giving me a different answer, but I can’t make demands. “All right.”
Short minutes later, we swing by the grocery store. After they settle the bags in the Mustang’s backseat, we head to Griff and Britta’s. The boys are all spread out on the living room floor. Jamie and Oliver are both rolling trucks around the carpet and making engine noises. Grayson looks on nearby as he props himself on his elbows and does his best to keep his wobbly head lifted. One thing I notice right away? He’s got the Reed green eyes and his mother’s blond hair.
Britta watches over the trio of tots with a smile. She’s cleaned up since we saw them earlier, and she’s now wearing a simple sundress with minimal makeup, along with a pair of springy, low-heeled sandals. “Hi. How was the shooting range?”
“Good.” I turn to look at Amanda.
She nods enthusiastically. “I did better than I thought I would. For a first timer, I’ll take that.”
Griff lopes down the stairs a moment later, freshly showered and wearing a collared shirt with a pair of khaki shorts. “Hey.”
“Hi, we’ll take Mandy’s little guy off your hands so you can get back to your evening.”
“You’re good. We’re all meeting at Noah and Harlow’s place for dinner in an hour or so, nothing fancy.”
I pluck Oliver off the floor, and I’m not surprised when he spots his mother and lunges for her. Amanda takes him from my grip and holds him tight. “Missed you, little man.”
“Ma ma.”
“Was he good?” she asks.
“He didn’t cry once. We fed him some juice and animal crackers, and he was fine,” Britta assures, then plucks the baby from the floor and addresses her husband. “I’m going to feed Gray before we go.”
“Sounds good.”
“It was nice to see you.” Britta smiles, then disappears upstairs.
“You, too. We’ll get out of your hair,” I say.
Mandy scoops up her son’s diaper bag. “Thanks for everything, Griff.”
“No problem. All the Reed siblings want a close relationship with Oliver, so I was glad to spend time with him. Anytime we’re free, we’d love to—”
“Can I just say I’m sorry?” Amanda interrupts him.
He frowns. “For?”
“Not thinking about the harm I was inflicting on your family. Your father was married, and I knew it. I was too
stupid to realize that, even if I thought my heart beat and bled for him, I wasn’t the only person who mattered. I was so attuned to my own feelings that I forgot about everyone else. I can’t tell you how much I regret that and how horrible I feel for tearing your family—”
“Don’t. It wasn’t your fault. We weren’t really a family, and you didn’t do any damage that my mom and dad hadn’t already done to themselves.” He frowns. “You know you’re not the first woman Dad cheated with, right?”
She looks down. “I know. But at the time I wanted so badly for him to leave Linda.”
“She would have deserved it because she was no saint, either. But he was never going to divorce her. He couldn’t afford to. If anyone’s sorry, it’s me. I knew what kind of man he was when you went to work for him. I knew his history with assistants. I could have warned you and I didn’t.”
“I wouldn’t have listened anyway. Some things you just have to find out for yourself.” She peers at him uncertainly. “Would you think it’s weird if I wanted to hug you?”
“Not at all.” Griff gives her a brotherly embrace, and it’s obvious she’s relieved both to have the apology off her chest and that he’s accepted it. “I always considered the Lunds family. I didn’t know we’d ever be related by blood, but I grew up thinking of you like a sister, so I’m glad to welcome you into the fold. We’d love it if you stayed on the island.”
“I’m actually thinking about it.”
“You want to come to dinner tonight? I know Noah and Harlow wouldn’t mind two more. Well, three.” He grins as he brushes Oliver’s rosy cheek with a big finger.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why?” Griff pins her with a critical stare. “When was the last time you talked to Harlow?”
I jump in. I don’t know if the reason for Mandy’s refusal is the same as mine, but… “Whoever’s out to get her is unhinged. I don’t want to put anyone else in danger.”
She latches on to my excuse with a nod. “Exactly. I wouldn’t feel right if I hung out and put her in jeopardy.”
Griff frowns like he understands but doesn’t like it. “For you, she’d risk it. Do you need anything else?”
“Nothing, but thanks,” she assures. “Tell Britta we said goodbye.”
“Will do.”
“Good luck tonight,” Mandy calls as we leave.
Then we’re gone. The ride back to the house is silent. She’s so pensive, I can almost hear her thinking. I want to ask questions, help her sort through her thoughts if she needs it, and blurt all the reasons I hope she gives us a try. But I don’t. Outside noise when I’m trying to think bugs the hell out of me, and I’m guessing she won’t appreciate me “mansplaining,” as Ellie would have put it.
Back at Masey’s vacation rental, I hide the distinctive Mustang in the adjacent garage, then make a quick trip through the interior of the house. Nothing has been disrupted, so I lead Amanda and Oliver in. We settle the groceries, plan a quick dinner, then she disappears to give Oliver a bath.
As I chop some veggies for a salad and heat the oven for chicken, I can’t help but wonder what the night will bring.
When she emerges with a freshly bathed boy, she leaves him to play on a blanket with his toys, and we finish cooking. While she’s picking at her plate, she’s giving Oliver tiny bites of chicken and some jarred food we picked up at the store.
Finally, as the sun begins to go down, she disappears into the master bedroom with her baby. Then I hear singing. Her voice is high, light, and melodic. And I hear her love for Oliver as she croons the lullaby.
I can’t help it. I meander down the hall and prop myself against the portal to watch. She’s cradling her son against her chest, and he’s looking up at her with big eyes. The naked love on her face as she looks down at him nearly chokes me. In that moment, I realize I’d consider myself incredibly blessed to have even a fraction of the devotion she’s showing her son. And I find myself determined to win her. I want more days like today. More nights where she sings Oliver—and maybe the children we have together—to sleep. I don’t care if it sounds crazy anymore. I’m listening to my gut.
Suddenly, she looks up and catches sight of me. “What are you doing?”
Her whisper isn’t meant to be sexy, but somehow it lights me on fire. “Watching you. You’re beautiful. Barclay was an idiot for throwing you away.”
Her lips curl up in a shy smile. “You’re only saying that because you’re trying to seduce me.”
“No. Well, yes, I’m trying to seduce you, but I’m saying that because it’s true.” I lean against the doorway. “Is it working?”
Chapter Seven
After Oliver fell asleep, cuddled up with his plushy toy train, Mandy and I do the dishes in silence. I can tell she’s thinking—so hard I can almost feel it.
She’s in the middle of drying a frying pan when she abruptly turns to me. “How long were you married?”
“Ten years officially, but Ellie and I have been separated for nearly two. She asked for ‘space’ one night. A few months later, I realized I was more relaxed, more…myself—not walking on eggshells, wondering if I was saying the wrong thing all the time—so I filed for divorce. She didn’t fight me.”
“No children?”
I shake my head. “We tried. Eventually doctors told us she wouldn’t be able to get pregnant.” No reason to get into all the medical stuff, and I doubt Mandy cares about my ex-wife’s ovaries. “It’s one of the things that changed her perspective on life, I think. After we heard that without something like IVF she wouldn’t be able to have kids, she started focusing on ways to improve herself, which I supported. She wanted to go to college. Fine. I was busy with the gun range. She helped when she could. But…we started living two different lives and grew apart.”
“Did you want children?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you still?”
I tucked that hope away years ago, after the doctors gave Ellie and me the bad news and she refused to discuss adoption. But now? “If the opportunity arises, I’d like to. The sooner the better. I want to be young enough to enjoy them.”
Mandy nods. “Is Ellie your age?”
“Six years younger.”
“Do you think the age difference was the problem with you two?”
The easy answer is no. When Ellie and I got married, we were both in our twenties and at roughly the same place in life. But I’m not sure that’s what Mandy is really asking. “Maybe. I don’t know whether the age difference had anything to do with her refusal to try working it out. Maybe it was immaturity. Or maybe it was the realization that her thirties were just starting and she didn’t want to spend them tied down to someone she didn’t see a future with?” I shrug. “I don’t know. But she was always looking for something. Herself, I think. I’m not sure how much of a role age played in that.”
“Thank you. I’m not trying to be invasive.” She sets the frying pan aside and blinks up at me in the too-bright kitchen. “I’m trying to figure out if we’d be a good fit.”
I suspected as much. “Take your time. When you decide, I want you to be sure.”
“Does my age bother you?”
“I’ve given it thought, but no. Does my age bother you?”
She shakes her head. “I was never attracted to anyone my own age. Even in fifth grade, I had a crush on my teacher.”
“When did you first think of Barclay as something other than your dad’s friend?”
“Honestly? I don’t think I ever saw him that way.” Mandy hesitates. “It’s funny. My mother was always reluctant to let me spend summers with Harlow at the Reed house because she worried Maxon or Griff would try to hustle me into bed.”
“Did they?”
“Never.”
“Were you ever interested?”
She wrinkles her nose. “They were like older brothers to me, teasing, tormenting… So no.”
I nod, taking that in as I put away the last of the dishes
while she wipes down the counter. “Be right back.”
“Sure.”
A few steps later, I exit the front door into the Hawaiian night. The breeze is balmy, the air perfumed. I flip on my phone’s flashlight and check the front gate. No evidence of tampering, and it’s shut tight. Then I walk the perimeter of the house. Since there’s no fence at all in back—wouldn’t want to block the ocean view—there’s nothing to deter intruders. I wish the house itself had an alarm system. That wouldn’t be fool-proof, either. But an extra layer of security would give me some peace of mind. The best I can do now is to hope that Mandy’s would-be killer has no idea where to find her—and be ready in case he does.
After ensuring both the front and back doors are locked tight, and checking the windows for the second time today, I’m satisfied that Mandy and Oliver are as safe here as they can be.
When I enter the kitchen again, she’s finishing a conversation. “Call me tomorrow and let me know you’re okay. Yes, I’m fine.” She pauses. “Oliver went right to sleep. He was exhausted. When will Evan be home?” Another pause. “Good. Stay with Noah and Harlow until then. Sounds like they could use the extra pair of hands since Noah’s mother hurt her ankle.” A last pause. “You, too. Good night.”
That must have been Nia. “How’s your sister?”
“She’s all right. She took your advice and decided to stay with family until her husband returns from London on Wednesday.”
I approach Mandy, fighting one hell of an urge to put my hands all over her. Instead, I cup her face. “You look tired, baby. Why don’t you let me tuck you in?” When she raises a brow at me, I shake my head. “Just sleep.”
“It’s too early. If I go to bed now, I’ll be awake at three a.m. But I’m too tired to return most of these texts and calls I missed earlier.”
“From who?”
“Well, I did text my brother back. Otherwise, he would have sent out the National Guard, but Maxon will have to wait until morning.” She sighs. “And Bruce.”
That raises my hackles. I have no reason or right to be jealous…but I can’t help it. “What does he want?”
