by Shayla Black
When we arrive, Oliver and Ranger are playing happily with a mountain of toys while Nolan sleeps on a blanket nearby. Noah’s mother regards the boys with an indulgent smile. It’s obvious she loves being around the kids and is happy to play grandma.
After a tasty dinner with a lot of laughter, Nia and Sebastian drift into an office area downstairs and continue debating how to fix Sebastian’s “mistake.”
Harlow pulls Mandy aside, and they head out by the pool, each with their sons, for a chat. Noah’s mother decides to give Ranger a bath upstairs.
That leaves me with Noah, who suggests a beer and a baseball game on the big screen.
Once we’re seated and watching a replay of the Blue Jays beating the Orioles, we pop open our beers. Noah doesn’t waste any time getting to the point. “When can you start training my security staff?”
“As soon as I put a stop to Amanda’s would-be stalker.” The mob will eventually go away. “I just wish I knew who the hell it was.”
“You have nothing to go on?”
I shake my head. “She can’t think of anyone in her life who would go this far to hurt her, and she’s convinced it’s somehow related to Barclay Reed.”
“That wouldn’t surprise me.”
“Did you ever meet him?”
“Once.” From Noah’s expression, I know it wasn’t pleasant.
I’m compelled to know as much as I can about the asshole who broke Mandy’s heart. But there’s also a chance he’ll know something about Reed that will set me down the right path. “And?”
“I only needed thirty seconds to know that my wife was better off without him. That was my wedding gift to her, you know? I gave her parents three million dollars to get out of her life forever.”
Holy shit. “Seriously?”
“One hundred percent.”
“And they took it?”
“Linda jumped on it. She wanted to divorce the bastard and needed the money. Barclay was more reluctant, so I threatened to expose his affairs and illegitimate children—at least the ones I knew about—which I discovered during a deep dive into his life. Mind you, I discovered all this before it became public knowledge, but once I confronted him with the truth he fell in line.”
I lean in since I don’t want Mandy or anyone else to hear. “Was the information you gathered really bad?”
“Stomach-turning. We think he paid his former assistants’ paternity claims under the table, which is why we can’t locate the rest of those offspring now. But apparently, he shuffled in a new assistant about every two years, upgrading to a younger model…and repeated the cycle. It was an open secret at Reed Financial.”
“Jesus.”
“I don’t know how many more illegitimate Reeds there are.”
“Any chance one of them might be after Mandy?”
Noah shrugs. “It’s possible someone might resent Amanda.”
In theory, yes. But my gut keeps saying no.
“Look…” Noah says. “I know Reed did a number on Amanda—”
“You have no idea.”
“Did she tell you?”
“Yeah. Stomach-turning, just like you said.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry.” He sighs. “I hope she’ll tell Harlow someday, just like I hope my wife will tell Amanda what Reed did to her.”
“Did he molest her?” I’m horrified by the possibility.
“No, but it was almost equally despicable. Now that I have a child of my own, I can’t imagine using him as a pawn in some scheme simply to make myself richer.”
“I don’t know if Mandy would want to tell Harlow what her father did.”
“I think it could bring them both closer together and help heal them someday.”
Maybe he’s right. I don’t know.
“I’ll get you the list of Reed’s known assistants, along with my private investigator’s notes about how many have children old enough to cause Mandy problems.”
If any of them have the Reed eyes, their paternity would be a dead giveaway. “That would be great.”
“I’ll get it to you in the morning.”
“Thanks.”
“My pleasure. Let me know when you’re free to start with my security staff. If you could work with them for a couple of months, would fifty thousand be fair?”
Beyond fair, and he must know it. “That’s more than generous. I don’t need that much money to do the job.”
“Would you do it right?”
“Absolutely. I’ll shoot for perfection, but at the very least they’ll be well above competent.”
“Then that’s the offer, take it or leave it.” He shrugs and sips his beer.
“Why are you helping me?”
“Two reasons. You seem like a good guy, and the fact you just tried to take less money for a job proves it. But even more important, my wife wants her friend back. Since you’ve come onto the scene, she says Amanda seems more like herself than she has been since she was a kid. I have to think that’s your doing.”
I fucking hope so. “Thanks. I won’t let you down.”
“I know. What’s next for you and Amanda?”
“Catching whoever the hell is after her. Then…hopefully convincing her we have a future.”
“Good luck. By the way, I think Harlow is offering her a job now.”
As if those were the magic words, the back door opens, and the women enter, each carrying a squirming baby boy. I don’t know Harlow’s expressions well, but I can tell Mandy has been crying. Since she’s smiling too, I’m hoping they’re happy tears.
“Baby?” I stand.
She approaches me, smile widening. “I’m going to start working for Harlow next week. I have a lot of skills that she could use, and it’s for a great cause.”
“That’s fantastic.” I curl my arm around her waist. “Congratulations.”
“It’s such a relief. I didn’t think I’d find another job with my employment history.”
“And best of all, her new boss will never expect her to put out,” Harlow quips.
Even Mandy laughs. “Thank goodness.”
With that, we leave and head to the villa. Everything Noah told me lingers in the back of my brain. I wish I could get started on hunting down this scumbag tonight, but without his information and without any other leads, I’m stuck. But the hours between now and dawn won’t be wasted. I’ll have Mandy. And even though I’ve had her so much today I should be well sated, I’m not. I don’t feel thirty-eight. I feel easily twenty years younger and I want more.
“Good conversation with Harlow?” I ask.
“Actually? Yeah. I started pulling away from her during our teen years. I felt so guilty about sleeping with her dad, but not enough to stop, which only made me feel worse. But she actually understood.”
“You told her everything?”
“The highlights. But she knows how old I was when it started.” A teasing grin dances at Mandy’s mouth. “Harlow says if she had known she would have gleefully castrated the bastard herself.”
Too bad no one did. “At least you cleared the air.”
“Absolutely. We got some good truths between us, and then we talked for a few minutes. It felt like old times, but better. She’s really happy, and I’m thrilled for her.”
“Is that what happiness looks like to you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Big house, high-powered job…”
“No. She’s happy because she’s got a great husband, a precious son, and family all around.” She shrugs. “I don’t care about the house and the job nearly as much as I care about the people in my life. I’m hoping that will be you.”
I take her hand. “After today, I don’t know how you’ll ever get rid of me.”
Peace settles between us, along with an anticipation that hums just under the surface. We’re both in a good place…mostly. We’re looking forward to the future. And we can’t wait to get Oliver down so we can hit the sheets again. But until then, I should give more thought
to Mandy’s assailant.
While I’m at it, I’ll have to address the multitude of messages Douglas Lund has sent me since this morning, each more pissed off than the last. Clearly, he doesn’t like being ignored. My silence should have told him I have zero intention of letting him know where I’m secreting his daughter. His insistence makes me wonder if Lund orchestrated the angry mob and the intruder to make some fucked-up point. After all, how many others really know that both Nia and Evan are branches on Mandy’s complicated family tree?
By the time we reach the villa, Oliver is half asleep, so Mandy gives him a quick bath and a change, then sings him to sleep. I smile, listening from the hall. The deep love she’s expressing is something I want for the rest of our lives.
In my hand, my phone buzzes. Lund Senior. Again.
Last chance or I’m tearing up this check. Where is my daughter?
Mentally, I start composing a reply, but I can’t think of one that doesn’t start and end with four-letter words. I’ve always disliked entitled pricks who are convinced their money should buy my obedience. I don’t roll that way, and he can kiss my ass.
“You okay?” Mandy asks, suddenly right in front of me.
She finally seemed relaxed, even happy, this afternoon. I don’t want to burden her with this now. Her father isn’t something I can’t handle. If Mandy and I work everything out, he might be my father-in-law. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to pander to him. She will be my first responsibility and priority, so I’ll do whatever it takes to shield her from his bullying and his attempts to control her.
I shuttle my messages, darken my phone, and shove it in my pocket. Lund can fucking wait—and he can shove his check, too. That means I’ll have to delay opening the new range for an extra few months more than likely. The location might be rented by then. But somehow, I’ll work it out. Mandy is worth it. “Yeah. Oliver down?”
“He’s fighting sleep, but he’s exhausted. Playing takes it out of a kid.” She drags her fingers down my chest, straight to my belt buckle, curling her fingers around it and using it to pull me closer with a sly grin. “How about you? Are you exhausted, too, or…up for more?”
“Definitely up.” I drop a kiss onto her mouth, but the second we make contact it’s like sliding into a dizzying, euphoric high. Suddenly, everything is electric and vivid. I lose my head as I pin her to the wall. “Always up for you, baby.”
Mandy tilts her head back, allowing my lips to roam her so-soft neck. I feel the heady, heavy beat of her pulse. She winds her arms around me with a moan that torques up my desire. “Tanner…”
“Bedroom?”
Before she can answer, Oliver huffs and squeals, then breaks out crying.
Mandy sighs. “Not quite yet, but hold that thought. The last few days, he’s been fussier than usual, especially at night. I’m wondering if he’s getting his first molars.”
“Painful?”
“Apparently. Feel like pouring us some wine while I check on my little guy again?”
Not my first choice, but Oliver howls once more. Yeah, he’s not happy. “I suppose the needs of my penis can wait while you see to the needs of his gums.”
She laughs. “Poor baby. I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
She lifts onto her tiptoes and gives me a lingering kiss. “I won’t be long. I promise.”
Reluctantly, we part. She heads back into the bedroom with a flirty glance over her shoulder. How did I get lucky enough to persuade such a gorgeous puzzle of a woman to like me in return? I don’t know, but I hope the like turns to more soon. If it does…I owe Trace. I make a mental note to buy him beers for the rest of his life.
After a quick trip to the kitchen, I pull the bottle of merlot off the quartz counter—not my first choice of drink, but Mandy likes it—and rummage around for a corkscrew. After a twist or two, followed by a soft pop, I uncork the bottle. A nearby cabinet produces a couple of wine glasses. I fill each and take them into the living room to wait. We’ll talk for a bit, make sure Oliver is nice and asleep, then…it’s on.
As I set the stems on the coffee table, I catch a blur of motion out of the corner of my eye. Movement. A person in dark clothing on the lanai out back, peering through the sliding door.
My heart jolts. I drag in a breath to counter its pounding as I straighten and make my way to the back of the house, trying to act as if I don’t have a care in the world. No need to alert whoever’s out there that I’m on to him. But once I hit the hall—out of the lurker’s sight—I sprint to the bedroom and back to the closet, where Mandy leans over the crib, patting Oliver’s back, trying to soothe him and still his restless kicking.
“I put some numbing gel on his gums,” she says without looking up. “He should be comfortable soon.”
“Mandy, listen to me. Someone is outside. A man. Where’s your phone?”
She tenses, eyes flaring wide. “In my purse. In the bedroom. D-do you think it’s…him?”
I pull a grim face. “Who else would be out there?”
“Any chance he’s just a guy walking the beach?”
“Dressed in a ski mask and head-to-toe black while peeking in the back door?”
“Oh, my god. How could this crazy man have found me, especially so quickly?”
That’s my question, too.
“Get your phone.” I pull my Glock from its holster.
Mandy rushes to grab her device. “What should we do?”
“Not we. Me. I’m going out there to find him.”
“What? No! It’s too dangerous. Let me call the police and—”
“Don’t count on them to save us. They took too long last time, and your intruder escaped. I don’t know if this is the same guy, but just in case, I’ll make sure he can’t get away. Stay here with Oliver.”
I sprint from the closet and down the hall. As I approach the living room, Glock pressed to my thigh, I relax my gait so I don’t tip off the son of a bitch still peeping through the glass door. With my free hand, I lift the nearest wine glass and sip, pretending to cast a casual glance outside.
The dark shadow jerks away again.
Fuck him. I’m putting a stop to this now.
With an easy gait, I head to the kitchen. Once I’m no longer visible from the lanai door, I creep to the garage and sidestep Joe’s Mustang before sneaking out to the side of the house. Pressing my back against the exterior wall, I edge toward whoever’s lurking, grateful that the brisk tropical breeze and the rustling palms mask the sound of my footsteps.
When I finally reach the edge of the lanai, I spot him. He’s roughly average height and average build. Good. I’m also grateful he didn’t bring a mob for me to contend with. He’s alone—and staring intently through the glass into the living room. If he’s smart, he’s wondering where the hell I went.
Then again, since he’s not doing a very good job of hiding himself, he’s clearly not the sharpest tool.
As I inch away from the villa, I crouch behind the lush foliage surrounding the lanai, slowly flanking him until I creep beyond his line of sight. Then, one stealthy step at a time, I sneak up behind him and press the barrel of my gun against his skull. “Hold still, motherfucker, or you’ll be missing half your brain.”
“D-don’t shoot. Please. It’s n-not what you think, I swear.” His voice is a squeak, and he sounds like he’s about to wet himself.
Either he’s an exceptional actor or he’s never committed a crime in his life, especially murder.
“Who are you?”
“Where’s Amanda?”
“Shut up. You’ll never touch her,” I vow as I pat him down for weapons. Nothing, so I reach around him and rap on the glass door.
“What are you doing?” He trembles.
Good. He should be scared. “I’m asking the questions. Why are you after Amanda? Were you the one who tried to stab her the other night?”
Before he can answer, Mandy bustles into the living room
and, wide eyed, wrenches the door open. “Oh, my god.”
I shove the stalker inside, not caring when he stumbles over the threshold and falls onto the carpet on his hands and knees. “I’m guessing this is your intruder from the other night. He asked for you by name.”
Mandy stares intently, as if she’s trying to look through his ski mask. “What do you want? I’m calling the police.”
“No!” He scrambles to his feet.
I grab his neck and squeeze, cutting off his windpipe, and press the gun to his head again. “Don’t move.”
He raises his hands in the air. “Amanda, please! Let me explain.”
Shock and recognition cross Mandy’s face. “Bruce?”
“Yes. I’m sorry.” He peels off his ski mask to reveal mussed brown hair, panicked brown eyes, and a pasty face. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Well, a little… I thought if you were frightened enough, you would come home and—”
“You’re the one who’s been terrifying me? And you broke into Nia’s house with a knife?”
“Just for show. I was never going to use it.”
“Oh, my god. You have stitches where I hit you with the vase?” She gazes at the angry red wound crisscrossed by dark thread.
He nods. “And a mild concussion.”
“Why would you do all this?”
“Do you really have to ask? You know how I feel.”
Is he serious? This was some fucked-up way of telling her he loves her?
I wedge my body between him and Mandy—and come face to face with her “nemesis.” He’s probably a decade younger than me, but he doesn’t look as if he’s spent more than ten minutes of his whole life being athletic.
Mandy glares at him around my shoulder. “You wanted to win me over so I’ll…what, marry you?”
He nods earnestly. “Yes.”
“And you thought scaring me would accomplish that?” She sounds as confused—and furious—as I feel.
If this guy has made half a billion dollars, he’s not a complete idiot. At least in theory. “Are you fucking kidding?”
He flinches, then scowls my way. “Shut up.”
“In case it’s escaped you, asshole, I’m the one with the gun.” I glance at Mandy over my shoulder. “Call the police.”
