by Katie Knight
She pulled the stroller inside, then closed the door behind them, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to the situation from Trevor’s neighbors, given the circumstances. “Did they take anything?”
There was no doubt in her mind that the thieves had been looking for something. Maybe that flash drive he’d said was stowed in his locker on base. Given the video and now this, whoever was watching Trevor clearly didn’t want him nosing into their business, and they were prepared to do whatever they could to stop him. She held her tiny daughter closer, vowing to keep Camille safe. It was too late to back out now. The mystery assailants had already tracked him to her house. The only way out was through. And she’d be damned if she’d fail.
Too much was on the line.
Trevor’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out to answer, his voice low and his scowl darkening. Maria couldn’t hear his words, but his expression was dour enough for her to suspect whatever the conversation was about, it wasn’t going well.
Finally, he ended the call, then looked up at her, grabbing his phone charger from the mess on the floor.
She hoisted Camille up higher in her arms. She was tiny, but after a while, even fourteen pounds seemed heavy. “What? What’s wrong?”
“That was Tim,” he said, making his way back over to her. “I’m now officially a suspect in the captain’s murder.”
“Oh, Trevor.” She wanted to comfort him but wasn’t sure what to say. He took off for the door again, sidling past the stroller in the hall. “Wait! Where are you going?”
“I’m leaving. Going away, by myself. This”—he waved a hand toward the jumble inside the apartment, then the busted front door—“is too much. It’s too dangerous. I can’t put you and Camille in any more danger.”
“Hey!” She followed him out into the hall, balancing the baby in one arm and pulling the stroller behind her with the other. “You can’t just leave. We had a deal. Besides, Camille and I are already involved. They know who I am, where I live. And yeah, I can take care of myself, but I’d feel better with someone around to watch my back. But instead, you’re just going to walk out now? So much for honor and valor, huh?”
She managed not to cringe as she said that. Hitting him where it hurt stung her too, but it had to be done. No way was she letting him off the hook now. Not until this was over and his name was cleared and her life was back to normal, safe and sound again. Trevor had brought this to her doorstep that first night, and now they needed to see this through together, one way or another.
“Maria, I—”
“You what?” she said, cutting him off. They were standing near the front entrance now, her voice low to avoid drawing unwanted attention and also to avoid waking the baby. “You’ve never run away from a fight in your life, Trev. Not when I was six and those girls were picking on me for wearing the same dress as somebody else to a party and you took my side. Not in high school when those rumors went around that I was a slut and you beat up the quarterback to defend my honor. And not now, when your daughter and I are depending on you, I’m not going to let you walk away. I know this is tough, and scary, and I know you don’t want to endanger me or Camille, but we’re already in this. We have to fight back. Let me help. Please.”
He didn’t say anything, just stared out the glass doors beside him.
“Where are you going to stay tonight?” She secured Camille back in her stroller. “You can’t stay here. I’m guessing you don’t want to go back to your parents’ house either. Why don’t you stay with me? I’ve got room and they already know you’re spending time there. Plus, with my security, it’s the safest place in town.”
“I don’t know.”
“I do.” She finished securing her sleeping daughter in her seat, then straightened. “You’re staying at my place. I won’t hear otherwise. It’ll be on the couch and it’s only lodgings, nothing else.” She gave him a once-over to emphasize her point. “Understand?”
Trevor sighed then took out his phone again. “Understood. Let me call the police about the break-in and let the building manager know what’s going on, I’ll need to pack a bag to take to your place too. Thank you.”
“The best way to thank me is to straighten out this disaster,” Maria said, glad to be out of the shadows and back into the sunlight again. “Now hurry up and make those calls so we can get home and get back to work.”
7
Later that night, Trevor’s head was still spinning. He’d known the situation wasn’t good, but he hadn’t expected the shit to hit the fan quite the way it had over the last twenty-four hours. Part of him still doubted that staying with Maria had been the best choice, but it was too late to change his mind now.
He stood still in the living room while Maria buzzed around him like a bee, fussing with bedding for the couch. Honestly, he’d have been fine bunking down on the bare floor. He’d certainly slept in worse places over his years in the SEALs. But she’d insisted on making up the sofa, so he’d let her, mainly to keep her busy and take his mind off the fact that they’d be sleeping under the same roof again.
Once they’d gotten home, she’d shown him all the house’s security features, then settled down to feed and bathe Camille. By the time that was done, she’d made him and her dinner as well—pasta and bread and a salad. In all the activity, they hadn’t even had a chance to do much more with the investigation. Now, Maria insisted there’d be time enough after they retrieved the flash drive from the base.
She finished tucking in a sheet around the cushions, then straightened and yawned. Yeah, she looked as beat as he felt. He sat down atop the blanket on the sofa and looked up at her. “Thanks again, for this.”
“Yep.” Maria sighed. “It’s a little small though. You won’t really be able to stretch out with your height. I hope it won’t be too uncomfortable.”
“It’ll be fine.” He leaned back and rubbed his eyes. “Tomorrow, I’ll talk to Tim about the best way to get my things from the base. Not just the flash drive—I’ve got some other stuff too. Some files and things left over from my last mission. They were in my pack when I left, and I never bothered opening them. Maybe they’ll help us figure out who’s responsible.”
“We discussed this. No sneaking around. We’ll discuss it in the morning and come up with a plan.” She seemed to hesitate near the hallway, as if thinking about something. “Are you sure you’re all right, Trevor?”
“I’m fine,” he said, a bit too quick. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” She crossed her arms, causing the front of her pink PJs to gape slightly between the buttons near her breasts. He did his best not to stare and failed miserably. Trevor forced himself to look away. “I mean all of this crap has to bring up a lot of emotions for you. You don’t have to be the brave tough guy all the time. Not around me. If we’re going to be working together to solve this, then you need to talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling.”
Trevor let his head fall back against the couch cushions and exhaled slow. “You don’t want to know.”
“I do. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” She walked back over and took a seat on the other end of the couch, clutching his pillow to her chest. “Tell me about your captain. Looked like you guys were fighting in that video. What was that about?”
“The mission. As usual. We were sent there to look into the death of an international arms dealer. Figure out why he’d been blown to bits and by whom.” He closed his eyes, remembering that night. “The captain kept trying to corner me, kept trying to ask me for more intel and we were already behind schedule and the enemy was closing in and… Ugh. I don’t know. I guess I just lost my shit for a minute. I don’t know why I drew my weapon on him. I don’t know why I didn’t just tell him to back off.”
“What more information did he want from you?” Maria asked, her voice quiet.
“What?” Trevor opened one eye and looked at her. “I don’t know. I don’t remember now.”
Not a complete lie. That night
was a bit blurry in his head, what with all the chaos of the captain’s death and their rapid departure afterward. Still, there were things he remembered—but he didn’t want to get into all that now. There’d be plenty of time tomorrow. Besides, he had enough nightmares as it was. No need to add to his nocturnal horrors.
She gave him a look that said she saw right through his bullshit, but thankfully she didn’t push it.
Instead, she snuggled into the corner of the seat and stared across the room. “I wish I could be more like you sometimes, more spontaneous, more instinctive. I tend to overplan everything.”
“No! You? Really?” he said, then grinned. She’d always been that way ever since he’d known her, shoving her emotions, her work, her social life into neat little boxes that she organized on a rigid schedule. He’d never really understood that approach to life at all, being the exact opposite. He lived and died by his intuition, his gut reactions to people and situations. Without them, he’d be lost. “How come?”
“Why do I overplan, you mean?” At his nod, she continued. “Well, for me it’s easier that way. Smarter. I can focus on everything I need to do and all the roles I need to fill if I have a clear outline in my head for how I’ll use my time. If I don’t let one area of my life take over my schedule, I can keep it all straight.”
He rolled his eyes and she laughed.
“That’s total crap. You know that, right?” he said. “If you don’t, then having a baby is going to teach you that lesson fast. From what I’ve heard, babies demand one hundred percent. All the time. No holding back.”
“It’s not crap. It’s just the way I cope.” She stuck her tongue out at him, and just like that, it was like they were back in grade school and she was the cute girl who sat in front of him, always the smartest in class, friendly and just a bit frightening for a below-average student like him. Still, that hadn’t stopped him from having a bit of a crush on her then. Wasn’t helping too much now either. “And believe me, I’ve already learned so much about myself with Camille it’s not even funny. Good and bad. Every day is new and exciting and terrifying. I constantly worry that I’ll screw something up with her and I’m trying so hard not to. I want to be the best mom I can for her.”
“You’re a great mom,” he said.
“How would you know? You’ve been around us for all of two days.”
“True. But I’ve seen how you are with her, how you care for her, how you look at her when she’s sleeping. How you’re so patient and loving and gentle. My mom always said that’s the secret to raising kids. Patience and love. You’ve already got those in spades, sweetness.”
At his use of their familiar endearment, her eyes softened and her lips parted, and for a moment Trevor forgot everything and damned near leaned forward to kiss her, good and long and deep. For so many years of friendship, he hadn’t let himself look at her that way. Now that he knew the chemistry between them, he couldn’t turn those memories off. It was all he could do not to try to act them out again—but he knew he wasn’t supposed to touch her anymore, and cleared his throat, looking away.
“Right.” He pushed to his feet and picked up a couple of baby toys from the floor, tossing them in a nearby bin. “We should, um, probably get some sleep while we can. You said Camille wakes up every four hours for feeding?”
“Yeah.” Maria blinked at him once more before tucking her hair behind her ears and standing as well. “Hopefully, we won’t disturb you.”
You’ve already disturbed me more than you know, sweetness.
He swallowed those words and said, “It’s fine. I’m used to power sleeping in the SEALs. Short deep naps between shifts or whatever. You won’t bother me at all.”
“Cool.” She backed away toward the hall once more. “Uh, thank you. For saying all that about me being a good mom. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that on the days when the laundry doesn’t get done and the dishes stack up and Camille won’t stop crying no matter what I do. Those days, I feel like the worst parent on earth.”
“You’re a single mom. It’s the hardest job there is. Give yourself a break.” He picked up his pillow to toss it back into place. “Goodnight, sweetness.”
“Night,” she said, disappearing down the hall at last.
He heard her murmuring to Camille in the nursery, then the closing of her bedroom door. Trevor sank back down on to the sofa, pressing his pillow to his face, catching a hint of her scent lingering on it, and his head flooded with images of those long-ago nights when they’d made love and knowing he wouldn’t get a wink of sleep.
Maria tossed and turned, finally staring up at the ceiling in her bedroom, moonlight streaming in through the curtained windows. She’d thought she could have Trevor here without stirring up thoughts of the more intimate moments from their past. She’d been wrong. So much had changed since then, and yet the memories of their first night together were still as vivid as ever.
He’d come over to her house, looking about as wary as a long-tailed cat on a porch full of rocking chairs. She’d done her best to put him at ease, even buying their favorite craft beer for them to share. He’d sat in the living room on her grandmother’s antique chair and signed the contract that would change both of their lives forever.
She’d done her homework, had studied Trevor and his family for months, had known he was the man for the job and that she wanted him to give her a baby. When she’d first asked him, he’d been taken aback, naturally, but then she’d gone over all the reasons why he should agree—no strings attached, with his busy lifestyle, this might be his only chance to have children of his own, he’d be gone once she conceived, so no fears of exposing her or the baby to danger or grief if he died. Okay, that last one had been a lie. She’d always cared way more for Trevor Daniels than she ever let on and if anything happened to him, whether they were together or not, she’d mourn his loss deeply. And well, the danger part had come to roost on her doorstep anyway, despite her precautions.
Ugh. Just ugh.
Covering her eyes with her arm, Maria tried to doze off, but it was no use. Images of her and Trevor together, the way he’d smelled—like citrus and soap—the way he’d tasted, the way he’d touched her and caressed her like she was precious and delicate and cherished. The way he’d coaxed her to not just participate in their lovemaking, but to enjoy it. He’d played her body like a finely tuned instrument and had brought her to the heights of pleasure more times than she could count. And when he’d finally joined with her, filling her completely, seeking his own fulfilment even as he brought her to yet another climax, the way he’d held himself above her on his elbows so that he wasn’t too heavy, his cheeks ruddy and his muscles quivering with tension and release. It was all so beautiful and perfect and unforgettable.
With a sigh, Maria rolled over onto her side and stared at the green glowing numbers on the clock on her nightstand. Nearly 4 a.m. Camille would be waking again soon for another feeding. Just as well, since her mother wasn’t getting any rest anyway.
Trevor needed her help. She’d agreed to give it to him. He’d been her friend for a lot longer than he’d been her lover. And yes, he was the father of her baby, but he’d made it clear a year ago that he was fine with doing the deed, then walking away. The fact they’d been forced back together now because of circumstance didn’t mean he was looking to pick up where they’d left off before his deployment.
Starting tomorrow, she’d be all business. Focus on this investigation and nothing more.
Matter settled, she closed her eyes to try and get a quick nap in, but fate had other ideas.
A tiny wail issued through the darkness and Maria tossed back the covers, padding across her bedroom to the door. Duty called.
8
Trevor was up early the next morning, unable to lay there on the couch and stare at the walls for one more minute. He’d taken a quick shower, gotten dressed, and was currently in the process of tidying and rearranging the living room. It was a trick he’d picked up in the milit
ary, cleaning to help release his pent-up tension and anxiety. He’d done all of this as quietly as possible and with minimal light to guide him, all in an effort to let both Maria and Camille sleep more. He’d heard both of them up in the middle of the night for a feeding and knew that Maria would have to go to work today. At least, he thought she would, seeing as how it was Monday.
Then again, she owned her own business, so maybe she could set her own hours. Did PIs even keep regular business hours? He had no idea. And who would watch Camille while she was gone? Trevor assumed she had a regular sitter or daycare arranged. He’d do it himself, but honestly, he had no clue about babies. What did a three-month-old eat? How often did they sleep? Were they able to sit up or did they just lie there?
He glanced at the new playpen again. Maria had said that Camille wasn’t ready for it yet, so no. Probably not sitting up yet. Or crawling. Which meant in order to get anywhere, the baby would need to be held or put in one of those carrier seat things. He’d noticed one of those in the kitchen yesterday, on one of the chairs.
“Good morning,” Maria said, jarring him out of his thoughts. She stopped at the end of the hall and looked around at his redecorating, her expression unreadable. Damn. He should’ve asked before rearranging stuff. This wasn’t his home. He had no right to change things when he’d be gone as soon as this mess with his captain was over. If Maria was upset, however, she didn’t mention it, just continued on into the kitchen with Camille and got her arranged in the carrier seat. Question answered. Maria glanced over at him after buckling Camille into the seat. “Looks like you’ve been busy. Sleep much?”
“Not really.” Trevor tucked away the last of the folded onesies into the laundry basket then wandered into the kitchen. Camille was bright-eyed and gurgling and he couldn’t resist bending over to talk and tease her. She smiled at him again and his whole universe burst into rainbows. Man, oh man. He’d never imagined having a kid would be so… enchanting.
