Roxanne St. Claire - Barefoot With a Bad Boy (Barefoot Bay Undercover #3)

by Roxanne St Claire

  After the ice formed, she started a mental chant to remind herself that nothing mattered. Whatever it was that caused the sensations of love, whether it was worry for her son or an incredible longing to kiss the man who insisted on coming with her today, those feelings didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

  Gabe put his hand over hers and gave a squeeze. “Kid’s a pisser, isn’t he?”

  He thought she was clammed up thinking about Rafe’s meltdown. Better to let him think that than know she was mentally icing down.

  “Watch your language,” she warned. “That pisser is going to be within earshot in a few minutes.”

  “Oh hell. Heck. I can do it. Poppy has me almost cured with her Jamaican orphan fund.”

  “Almost cured?”

  “Yeah. Three months ago I would have said almost fucking cured.” He gave her a heartbeaker of a Gabe Rossi smile and threaded his fingers through hers. She glanced down at their joined hands.

  It doesn’t matter. Ice over the heart. It doesn’t—

  “What happens during a meltdown?” Gabe asked.

  “Temper tantrum times ten. He cries to the point of giving himself a broken blood vessel in one of his eyes. Makes life hell for Chris or me. Gets his way eventually.” She held her hand up to stop the inevitable. “Believe me, I’ve tried discipline. He hates that.”

  Gabe laughed as he turned onto the residential street where Rafe was staying. “Who doesn’t?”

  “Well, nothing works.”

  “Something must work,” he said.

  “I’ll call your mother and ask what worked on you.”

  “My mom prayed a lot. My dad yelled a lot. JP beat the shit out of me, and Zach just freaking scared me. Marc was the only nice guy in the whole family.”

  “Your grandfather was the magic elixir, if I recall what you told me.” That made Gabe smile. “Nino could usually settle my ass down with a big glass of milk, assuming I didn’t drink straight from the bottle, and some scraps from his stovetop, yeah.”

  She thought about all the stories of life in the big Rossi family that Gabe had shared with her, in the dark in bed, after making love. “That house sounded like a pretty fun place to grow up.”

  “Never a dull moment.” He looked at her. “Maybe that’s the problem. Kid’s bored out of his gourd, locked in that box with the Pacifier.”

  “Don’t knock Chris. He’s been a godsend.”

  “What god sent him? The god of dickheads?”

  “The one who took great pity on me when I was having a breakdown in an elevator one day and Chris walked in.”

  “The white horse and all that knight armor fit in an elevator?”

  She squeezed his hand, alternately touched that he still harbored jealousy over other men and infuriated that he didn’t realize Chris’s true value. “He’d just quit the Secret Service a week or two earlier.”

  “Convenient.” He made no effort to hide his skepticism.

  “Trust me, he was thoroughly vetted by the agency before I hired him. He quit over a dispute with his boss after he was passed over for a White House assignment.”

  “So not good enough for the president, but good enough for my kid.”

  “Gabe.” No small amount of irritation slipped up and down her spine. “He was burned out and sick of the job, anyway, and he’s a natural protector. I was trying so damn hard to hold an undercover assignment and be a single mom.” She blew out a sigh, remembering the difficult days. Painful, headachy days where she fell asleep drowning in doubt over her ability to do either job very well.

  “And in walks tall, dark, and good with kids.”

  She elbowed him. “Stop it. He’s great with Rafe and would die before he let anything happen to him. You should be thrilled I have someone so competent on the job.”

  “So, does he do anything to cause…headaches?”

  “Oooh, I’m having a hard time seeing around all this not so thinly veiled jealousy. He’s a great nanny and a terrific friend. I trust him with Rafe and with…”

  “With what?”

  “Secrets. He knows I’ve been deep undercover, so I suspect he knows I haven’t always looked like this. It’s kind of hard to spend as much time in my house as he does and not know.”

  Gabe hit the brakes a little too hard when they reached the house. “But he wants to sleep with you.”

  “And you know this, how?”

  “Well, look at you. You’re fucking gorgeous.”

  Did he really believe that, or was he suffering from a crippling case of blue balls? “Drop one f-bomb in front of my kid—”

  “Our kid.”

  “And Rafe doesn’t know that yet,” she reminded him. “And you’re not going to tell him until I say so, is that clear?”

  He turned the car off and nodded.

  “And as far as Chris, you’re dead wrong.”

  “Lila, I saw the look in his eyes when he damn near killed me. That was a man protecting his turf.”

  “Exactly,” she said. “His turf happens to be our son. And if he laid a hand on me, I think his partner, Daniel, would be devastated.”

  “Oh.” He tipped his head and frowned. “Didn’t pick that up.”

  “So you don’t know everything. Now let’s go and I’ll show you what a world-class meltdown looks like.” She reached for the door handle, but as she did, Chris stepped out of the front door, scowling a little at them.

  “Oh, that’s not a happy face,” Lila muttered.

  She climbed out and looked over the roof of the car. “Code red?” she joked, using their name for the worst of the worst.

  Chris scowled. “He’s still asleep, and I’d like to keep it that way. What are you doing here?”

  “I got your text that he was having a meltdown.”

  As Gabe got out of the car, Chris took a few steps closer, and, yes, Lila had to admit, there was a defensive look in his eyes. But they were just two alpha dogs protecting the same kid.

  “I never texted you,” Chris said.

  Lila’s heart dropped, and she instantly looked at her phone. “Meltdown? About half an hour ago?”

  Chris slowly shook his head.

  Immediately, Gabe was around the car, a hand on Lila. “Get inside. Is Rafe secure?”

  Chris gave him a withering look. “As of one minute ago when I checked him before coming out here, yeah.”

  But Lila’s throat went dry as she tapped the phone to call back the number that had texted her. Even as she put the device to her ear, she knew she wouldn’t get a person or even voice mail.

  “Burner?” Gabe asked, ushering her into the house.

  Nothing but dead air in her ear. She nodded. “I need to see Rafe.”

  “And we need to get him to another safe house,” Gabe said, eyeing Chris like he was the person who’d used an untraceable phone to lure her here. “With a backup security detail.”

  “Gabe,” she chided, hustling forward, more because she was anxious to see Rafe than to get out of broad daylight. “We wanted him to find me, remember? I just didn’t know it would happen so fast.”

  Or that she would lead him right to her son. The thought made her damn near run inside.

  “Who are you talking about?” Chris asked, blocking Gabe’s way but stepping aside to let Lila past.

  “None of your business, bro,” Gabe said, muscling closer. “Let me by.”

  Lila threw a look over her shoulder as she rushed into the house. “You’re both on the same team, gentlemen. Get in here.”

  She didn’t stop to watch them face each other down, but only because she needed to see Rafe. She darted down the hall to the last door on the left. The room was dark, and he was curled on his bed with his thumb half hanging from his mouth, lightly snoring.

  Wordlessly, she dropped to her knees next to him, whispering a prayer of gratitude.

  If someone knew how to reach her with the one word that would get her out of the resort, then that meant…

  “He found you,” Gabe s
aid softly as he walked into the room. He closed the door without making a sound, darkening the room even more. “And Rafe. And your cell phone number that only two people in the world have.”

  Yes and yes. She let the horror of that hit her.

  But Gabe knelt down next to her, a strong hand on her back as he looked at their sleeping child. “He has to be safe, Lila.”

  “I know.” She wanted to touch Rafe’s back with the same protective touch as Gabe used on her. Wanted the three of them to be connected. She didn’t just want it, she needed it in a primal, basic way.

  And that one little move would probably bring on the mother of all headaches.

  She didn’t care. She lifted her hand and laid it on her son’s tiny back, and then Gabe put his hand over hers. She turned to him, the world swimming as she looked through teary eyes.

  “I love him already,” Gabe whispered.

  “Amazing how that happens.” She closed her eyes and put her head on his shoulder, just like she used to when they were a couple. And they sat like that for a long, long time, silent.

  This was what she wanted, all she wanted, ever. This moment. This man. This family.

  And then the slow, brutal, relentless thrum of pain started in her head. All she wanted, but she couldn’t stand the pain.

  *

  “Hey. Heeeeey! Play with me, man!” Weight dragged on Gabe’s back pockets, pulling his jeans halfway down his ass. Shit.

  Gabe pressed one hand to his ear, trying to hear what Michael Brady, his friend at the NSA, was telling him as a four-year-old monkey decided it would be fun to hang on Gabe’s jeans and play “heavy pockets.”

  “Dude, chill out, okay?” he whispered to the boy. “What was that again, Mike?”

  “Heavvvvvvy pockets!” He hung again, and Gabe tried to walk down the hall, away from the human pendulum swinging off his rear end and the bodyguards talking to Lila and her nanny. Anywhere to hear what the security analyst was sharing with him.

  “I said we can get a fingerprint of when a phone went online and the total number of calls,” Mike said. “With burners, we look for a pattern, but if it’s been used and tossed, then—”

  “Hey. Hey! Man!” His jeans damn near came right down his ass.

  “Rafe!” Lila called out.

  “I want to talk to the man!” Rafe hollered.

  “Leave him alone.” Lila came closer, apologizing as Gabe hitched up and rolled his eyes, walking farther down the hall, listening to Mike.

  “Now, if you have the number in the database—”

  “Hey, maaaaaan!” The howl could peel the motherhumping paint off the walls.

  Gabe whipped around and swooped the howling kid up in one arm, keeping the phone pressed to his ear.

  “—then we can run a search to see if those patterns are there. This week’s tough, Gabe, but I might be able to try to steal some computer time.”

  Little legs and arms kicked like Rafe was swimming through air, while Gabe held him tightly around the waist, pressed up to his side.

  Gabe tossed the little bag of bones lightly on a Star Wars bedspread. “That’s good, Mike. I’ll text you the number and anything you can run would be great. I owe you, pal.”

  “Pick me up again, man!”

  Even with the scream, Gabe could hear Mike’s low chuckle on the phone. “Didn’t know you had kids, Gabe.”

  “I—”

  Rafe launched off the bed and into Gabe’s arms, wrapping his legs around him like a spider monkey. “I am Magnet Man! I stick to you!”

  “I gotta go, Mike.”

  The other man laughed. “Hey, enjoy them while they’re young. My daughter just went to college, and it freaking killed me.”

  “Will do.” College? He wasn’t going to survive preschool. He popped the phone into his pocket and tried to back away from the force that was Rafe. Wasn’t happening. “What is your deal, little dude?”

  “You’re my friend.” He slapped two hands on Gabe’s face and gave a baby-toothed grin. “’Kay?”

  Gabe laughed. “Okay. But your friend has some really important sh…stuff to take care of right now.”

  “Lego Star Wars on the Wiiiiiiii!” He patted Gabe’s face about a hundred times with sticky little candy fingers that carried a decent wallop.

  “Not today.”

  “Yes, today today today today todaaay!”

  Gabe grabbed his narrow waist and lifted him a little. “Holy…cr…crud, kid. If you just chill for one minute, one f…fine minute, I will—”

  “Play air soft guns with me.”

  “Guns?” What moron let him play with guns, even the air soft kind? Fucking manny. “You’re not allowed to play with guns.”

  “But you have one.”

  He shot back. “How do you know I have a gun?”

  “Mister Chris told me.”

  Of course the prick was already trying to sell him down the river. “Don’t believe everything you hear, bro.”

  “I’m not your bro.” He twisted Gabe’s ears.

  “But you are an asspain, you know that?”

  His jaw dropped and he gasped.

  “I know, I know. I said a bad word. Don’t tell your mom.”

  “Aaaaaasssss!” He squirmed out of Gabe’s arms and went flying down the hall. “That man said aaaasssss!”

  Son of a bitch. Gabe stuck his hand in his hair and huffed out a breath and swallowed another curse.

  “He can be a handful.”

  He turned at the sound of a man’s voice, coming face-to-face with Chris. Swallowing all his pent-up frustration and dislike for the guy, Gabe nodded. “I don’t have your daycare expertise, that’s for sure,” Gabe started to walk out, having no desire to chat like a couple of moms on the playground. But Chris blocked him again, a sizable guy but no match for Gabe, especially when he was this pissed off.

  “’Scuze me,” Gabe said under his breath.

  “We need to talk.”

  Gabe exhaled noisily. “I have stuff to deal with.”

  “I have stuff to deal with, too, and his name is Rafael Winter.”

  Actually, his name was Gabriel Rafael Rossi. Or should be. Gabe just stared at the other man, waiting for him to say his piece.

  “I know that you’re trying to draw someone out using Lila as bait, and I honestly don’t want to get involved in that. Her business has always been something I don’t ask about.”

  “Great. Then stay out of it.”

  The other man shook his head. “Rafe’s going to a different safe house, and I don’t want Lila to know where he is.”

  “You don’t? You’re the babysitter, pal, not the shot-caller.”

  He got right into Gabe’s face, dark eyes narrowed. “And you’re the absentee father who suddenly wants to play Daddy.”

  The feeling of his fist cracking this guy’s teeth would be so sweet. So tempting. The only reason Gabe didn’t was Rafe. And Lila. “I hate to break the news to you, dickbag, but you actually do not know what the ever-loving fuck you’re talking about. Now, move away and let me handle this situation.”

  Fucker didn’t budge. If anything, he got closer. “Nothing will endanger that child.”

  “Damn straight.”

  “Nothing,” Chris repeated. “And if she knows where Rafe is, I guarantee you she’ll convince you to take her to him, even if it’s for five minutes so she can put her hand on his back and know that he’s safe.”

  Gabe didn’t know what pissed him off more. That this asswipe knew so much about what made Lila tick, or the fact that he was dead right. “Then let’s make sure she knows where he is and can put her hand on his back when she needs to. I’m taking that child”—he leaned right into his face—“my child to where I want to take him and you—”

  “Will go with him.”

  They stared at each other, both of them doing their level best not to snarl.

  Behind Chris, in the hall, he saw something move and knew damn well Rafe was positioned just close enough t
o listen. He knew, because it’s exactly what he would have done as a kid.

  “Chris, you’re doing an awesome job in your role here.” Gabe slammed a friendly hand on the man’s shoulder. “A role model for Rafe and really in control of your feelings. I’m certain my…that boy is learning only good things from you.”

  Chris looked confused as hell.

  “Rafe!” Gabe jerked to the side and called out their eavesdropper. “I know you’re out there, dude.” He threw a warning look at Chris. “If you really care about that kid, you will not go filling his head with anything that’s only going to mess him up now.”

  Chris opened his mouth to argue, but Rafe came plowing into the room and launched himself toward Gabe again, but he stopped when he saw Chris, looking from one to the other, torn over who should be the recipient of Magnet Man’s attachment.

  As much as Gabe wanted to scoop him up and tell him what’s what and who’s who, he couldn’t. Shit. The kid didn’t need to be any more confused.

  Gabe stepped forward. “Hey, bro.” He ruffled his hair, flashing back to his own childhood and his own baby-fine black curls. “Wanna meet your new best friend?”

  He frowned. “Okay. Where is he?”

  “I’m going to take you there.”

  He frowned and looked past Gabe. “Are you going, Mister Chris?”

  Chris just waited, wise enough to know who would call the shots. And Gabe was wise enough to call the right shot, even if it pained him.

  “Yeah, of course he’s going with you,” Gabe said, shooting a look at the other man. “You can both learn to make gravy.” At Chris’s look, he added, “It’s an excellent domestic skill to add to your résumé.”

  Which he’d be needing soon.

  Chris didn’t even smile. “Why the change of heart?” he asked.

  “My heart didn’t change,” Gabe shot back. “Lila trusts you. That’s good enough for me.”

  Except, as soon as he said it, he knew that it was proof positive that something had most definitely changed. Was it his heart?