"Thank you, Sharon." Grateful for the reassuring, big-personality den mother to all the women living there. "I don't know what I'd do without you to talk me down."
Tommy had been unable to remain still as he waited for it to finally be time to meet the bus. The sooner I go to school—the sooner I get to come back. Since Jason copied everything his older brother did, she’d had two energetic boys—bouncing off the walls of their tiny room at six a.m. Trying to keep them quiet hadn't been an easy feat.
"We haven't heard a peep from Phil in the seven weeks you've been here," she reminded. "It might be finally over."
"What about the other night?"
"Sugar—you have no way of knowin' who that was." Sharon's eyes reflected understanding. "With twenty families here? It could've been any of them. Besides-" She squeezed her restless fingers on the table, bracelets jangling. "That doesn't fit Phil's pattern, right? Why would he change now?"
Distracted, Annie nodded, hand to her throat . . . as though placing it there would somehow prevent her heart from scaling up her larynx and leaping for safety. "I keep thinking . . . maybe he's given up." She released a steadying breath, forcing herself to remember the breathing exercises she'd learned in therapy. Recovery took less time if the panic attack didn't get a chance to take hold.
Maybe Phil didn't know where they were. Maybe he had a job he'd managed to hang onto . . . this time. With longer hours. Where he couldn't disappear during the day to wreak havoc on his former wife. Where he couldn't attempt to kidnap his children from the playground.
Inhaling deeply, she released a steadying breath. Maybe he'd finally met someone else. Please God . . . let that be the case. Her greatest wish. Yet, as desperately as she prayed for it, Annie couldn't hope for it without a pang of regret. For the new woman.
Her salvation would mean another woman's budding nightmare.
"We've taken precautions for this afternoon." Sharon glanced to Marisol, who'd joined them, a mug in her hand, a sheaf of papers in the other. "Big Pete will be watching out. He's got Lefty out there, too, running the backhoe for the boys. Lefty has three guys on his crew. They're going to keep the demonstration area small and closed in."
Marisol nodded. "No one will be able to get in. No one can approach without one of us seeing him. Hank and Jeff will be there-"
"Hank still doesn't know I live here." Annie glanced up, suddenly worried. "Did you tell Mr. Traynor?"
Sharon's bangles rattled and clanged against her animated arms, somehow managing to soothe her distracted brain. "We don't reveal information about our clients, Annie. You know that."
"I know." She shook her head. "I know. I'm sorry—to question you." Relief trickled through her. She'd wondered about Marisol maintaining her confidence. Everyone could see she was inching closer to Jeff. And Jeff worked with Henry. If Jeff found out . . . Hank would, too. "I'm going to tell him . . . soon."
Maybe if they got through this afternoon unscathed, she could work up the courage. Because she liked Henry. Really liked him. She liked how he smiled at her as though she was someone he respected. Loved how he'd traced his fingers over her wrist the previous night when they'd been sitting together at a corner table. The boys had been running around, chatting with the other diners. Big Pete had stood sentry near the door, his gaze continuously roving the crowd. The steady buzz of animated clients, blustering and laughing; the clattering sound of pots being washed . . . all of it had faded away. Instead of a homeless shelter, she'd been transported to a quiet, intimate restaurant. With a man whose eyes had heated with desire when she'd shivered. Like a long abandoned building, her body felt old and creaky. Neglected. Forgotten. Until Hank had come along. Somehow, he seemed to find something worth salvaging under her worn out exterior.
Now that she'd stirred back to life—her body had taken over. Now—she couldn't catch a glimpse of Hank without wanting . . . everything. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to slide her hands over his body. Feel heat under her fingertips. Coiled muscle in his arms. His chest-
Her face heating like an old stove, she resisted the urge to dab her forehead. She wanted to see Henry. His muscled chest. She wanted—sex. His hands everywhere. Dear lord, she was sweating. Just thinking about sex with Hank—and she was sweating. Sharon and Mari were going to guess-
"Sugar, it would do you some good to get outside there with them."
When Sharon nudged her, she startled. Increasingly erotic thoughts about the hot, sexy man working outside the window dissolved. Relieved and disappointed, Annie tried to regain her focus. "Huh?"
Marisol nodded. "I’m going outside to watch Hector."
"Have some fun with your boys for a change," Sharon urged.
The older woman's encouraging smile made her want to try—if only to not disappoint the women who'd become so important. They'd taken her in. Protected her sons. Counseled her—making her stronger every day. Their first self-defense class was scheduled for later that week.
"Why don’t you come, too?" Marisol snagged her hand from the table. "Come on, it will be fun."
The understanding in their eyes provided sorely needed confidence. "I need to stop assuming Phil will be there if I step out of this building." Ignoring the tightening in her throat, she nodded. "That he’ll kidnap the boys." Or her. Again.
You can do it. Annie latched on to the notion. If Phil didn't show up. If there were no incidents. The boys would be ecstatic. She released a steadying breath. If the tour was successful, she would agree to dinner. Henry would keep them safe. Seize the day. Like she wanted to seize his sexy body. Plotting escape routes had become second nature by now. She mentally reviewed the steps. Jump in his truck. Watch the rearview to make sure they weren't being tailed. Zip into the restaurant. Pick a spot near the fire exit. Watch the door . . .
She'd been talking with him for seven weeks. Yet, it felt longer. It felt as though she . . . knew him. She'd stalled long enough. Hank had been patient. He'd also been curious about her reticence to leave the shelter. She was running out of excuses for why she wouldn’t go to dinner anywhere else. And damn it, she really wanted to go out with him. On a date with Henry Freeman. "I’ll do it. I'll join you."
Chapter 8
Nothing will happen. Several hours later, her gaze on the clock, Annie repeated the mantra in her head as the time nudged closer to the site tour. "Nothing to worry about." When a shadow loomed before her, she startled.
"Easy, sweet." Hank's voice joined her at the counter she swiped it for the hundredth time. "Y'all shouldn’t have anything to worry about on a day as pretty as this."
"Hello, Henry." His friendly eyes matched his smile. Now, an entirely different set of nerves began buzzing—for an increasingly irresistible man. She hoped he couldn't read the eagerness tracing through her. "Are you ready for the kids?"
"We're ready," he confirmed, his eyes sparkling. "Me 'an the boys have got a couple surprises lined up." He was enjoying this as much as the kids would later. "I'm excited to see how Tommy and Jason like the show this afternoon."
"They could barely sleep last night," she confessed. Hank's smile soothed her jumping nerves. The wound-up feeling in her stomach slowly uncoiled. There was something calming about his easygoing confidence. "Tommy wanted to get on the bus at six this morning, just so the day would go faster."
His smile broadened. "How about you? Any chance I can convince you to take a break and join us?"
Staring into magnetic, blue eyes, Annie could feel heat radiating from him, the scent of outdoors and sunscreen filling her senses with a sharp pang of longing. Despite the counter separating them, she wanted to take a step closer. "I couldn’t sleep either," she confessed, launching her secret out there on a test balloon of sudden boldness. The flare of surprise in his eyes was followed by a burst of heat that sent her heartbeat into a strange, skittering rhythm. "I’d love to come this afternoon."
He leaned in, brushing his mouth against her ear, sending shivers of heat cascading down her back. "Maybe we
could grab dinner after? Someplace the boys would like?"
Though he couldn't hide the eagerness in his voice, Hank’s expression was a blend of hope and carefully schooled resignation, as though preparing himself for her to say no once again. But, how could she say no? When everything inside her was singing yes? "I think that's a wonderful idea."
He stilled, then released a gusting breath. "Really?" Pushing off the counter, he nodded. "Okay, then. It’s . . . a date." An irresistible dimple winked in one cheek. He checked his watch. "I’ll see you outside in an hour."
"REMEMBER YOUR BREATHING," Marisol coached Annie an hour later as they stepped carefully through the dirt to reach the demonstration site. "Keep taking deep breaths and you should be fine. We're right here with you."
"Where . . . where are the boys?" Distracted, she glanced back over her shoulder. They were a long way from the door. But . . . her boys were out there, too. Her brain on overload with too many problems to worry about at once, she had trouble concentrating. "Where's Tommy-"
"He's right there, Sugar." Sharon pointed them out. "He and Hector are thick as thieves and Big Pete's standing five feet from them." She captured her nervous fingers. "He's not gonna let one tiny thing happen to any of our boys."
"And girl," Marisol pointed out, chuckling. "We have at least one little girl who was interested."
Smoke belching from the equipment, the air hung heavy with diesel, adding to the aura of excitement for the boys. Annie managed a smile. She'd have to remember all the details so she could talk to Tommy and Jason about it that night. Her eyes sought Hank, as he directed the subs, his smile easing her worry. He won't let anything happen.
Across the site, Hank winked at her as he began introductions. She couldn't contain her smile when he presented each of the kids with a miniature hardhat with their name on the brim. He'd thought of everything . . . down to the smallest detail. They were all wearing miniature neon yellow safety vests. She heard him talking about the equipment, how fast it could go, how much weight it could carry and how dangerous it could be if they didn't pay attention. Safety, his low, sexy voice reminded, was the most important thing. His drawl wandered through her system. That if they remembered all the safety rules, there'd be a surprise at the end. How could his voice . . . act like a sedative to her rapidly fluttering heart?
Allowing it to wash over her, Annie sensed something strange begin to happen. Her gaze glued to Hank, she slowly felt herself calm. Felt her worry drizzle away. She was a hundred yards from the building, her brain lazily reminded her. Maybe another day, she responded. Another day, she would worry enough for ten people. But today, for right now . . . she was going to enjoy the intoxicating sense of freedom.
Fifteen minutes later, Hank's surprise elicited shrieks from six little boys (and one very happy red-haired girl).
"Y'all have been great listeners to all the safety tips," Hank explained. "So, each of you will get to take a turn driving the roller with Lefty and the bucketloader with Chico."
Annie smothered her laughter when the kids erupted, jumping around as though it were Christmas morning. Hank startled. For a moment, he looked bewildered by their response, before his face split with a grin. Even Pete's perpetual scowl wavered for a moment. Six burly men cracking up over the kids' excitement. They were all having way too much fun.
Jeff Traynor quickly lined everyone up. One of the guys on the site crew would hoist a kid onto Lefty's lap for the quick trip around the site, followed by Chico and another child on a piece of equipment that looked very much like one of the bright yellow toys Hank had brought Jase and Tommy. Annie watched, chest tight with joy as Tommy was lifted up for his turn at the controls. His face wreathed in smiles, Tommy jabbered away in Lefty's ear. She could see him nodding as he answered a million questions. How long since you've seen him this happy?
"What'd you think?" Hank joined her, his familiar scent as comforting as his presence. Marisol drifted away to join Jeff Traynor and collect Hector.
"I can't thank you enough." Lifting up on tiptoes, she planted a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear. "Thank you." His arm came around her, his hand at her back, as though he didn't care whether anyone saw them. "You've made two little boys happier than I've ever seen them."
Beautiful eyes sparkled. "How about their mom?"
She swallowed around the sudden dryness in her throat. It was a day for boldness. For not turning back. For not second-guessing. "You've made her happy for the last seven weeks."
His hand stilled before nudging her closer. "I can't tell you how glad I am to hear that." He lowered his mouth to hers, giving her a brief kiss before pulling back. "Let's hold this for later," he suggested. "I've got a tour to wrap up."
LATER, SEATED IN A booth at dinner, Hank couldn't stop smiling, though exactly what the hell he was smiling over, he wasn't sure. Carnival noises overwhelmed from the kiddie arcade behind them, bright lights flashing. The McKenna brothers swiveling around in their seats, barely eating their dinner as they tried to observe everything going on around them. The swell of a blaring jukebox prevented him from having much of a conversation with Annie . . . who was equally distracted. Either she was cutting up food for Jason, breaking up a squabble between the boys or glancing around the restaurant, seeming to need to eyeball every person who walked through the door.
But, they were out. Away from the shelter. The boys were thrilled. They were together—eating dinner like a family.
"Mr. Hank, can we go to the arcade?"
He glanced at Annie, who frowned. "Not until after dinner, bud." Hank pointed to his plate. "You've only eaten two bites of your hamburger."
"But . . . we need to see stuff." Tommy's expression suggesting that should be a good enough explanation.
"If you don't eat your dinner, how will you be strong enough to run around later at the park?" Taking Annie's lead, he tried to imagine ways that would gain cooperation without scolding. "I'm gonna end up being faster than you. And I'm old," he tacked on.
"I'm eatin' all my chickens," Jason pointed out around a mouthful of food.
"I'll be the fastest," Tommy boasted, before picking up his burger and taking a huge bite.
"Don't forget to chew." Hiding his smile, he glanced at Annie. "You can eat it slow, bud. We're not in any rush." Behind Jason's head, he fistbumped her hand.
"Can we play on swings when we get there?" Jason waggled a french fry in his direction. "I don't like the teeter-totter."
"Honey, if you're done, put that down on your plate." She glanced up. "Tommy, be careful with your drink-" Annie's distracted voice made him smile. As usual, she was trying to stay on top of everything.
"We can play on everything," he assured. "Why don't you like the teeter-totter?"
"Cuz it thumps down." Jason's earnest eyes stared back at him. "It scares me when it bumps." He bounced up and down in his seat to demonstrate.
"I don't think I'd like that, either." The next second, Jason's glass toppled over, sending a river of chocolate milk streaming across the table toward Tommy. "Oops—I'll help you-" Hank rose from his seat, intent on stopping the flow before it dripped over the side.
"I's sorry-" Jason's eyes filled with tears.
Tommy bolted up from his chair, nearly toppling it. "Don't—don't hit him," he pleaded, his eyes filled with terror. "It's . . . an accident." He gulped in several breaths as Hank froze in his steps. "Don't . . . please don't . . . h-hit him."
"Tommy, it's okay." A chill raced down his spine, his heart fisting with the sudden realization the little guy was terrified—of him. That he actually expected him to- He swallowed hard. Holy hell. A little boy . . . expected to be beaten. Over an accident? His thoughts splintered with too many questions. When? How often? Sweet Jesus—their father hit them. He'd beaten—his children. And maybe—his wife. "I would never hurt you."
Annie. He couldn't risk looking at her, almost afraid of the disturbing knowledge he might read in her eyes. His heart pounding like a f
reight train, Hank was entirely uncertain what he would do with confirmation. Jesus—had she been abused, too? He dragged in a shallow breath, almost afraid to breathe. "Buddy, I promise . . . it's okay. I promise."
Frozen in place, Tommy stood in front of his brother, shaking off Annie's hand when she tried to comfort him. "I'll . . . c-clean it for h-him."
"How about . . .we clean it up together?" Unwilling to move until he received Tommy's consent, he held his breath, the noise of the restaurant swirling around them as though they'd been frozen in a slow-motion carnival tableau. Happy noises drowning out terror. Annie, too, seemed suspended in place, stroking Jason's back after he'd leaped into her lap.
He sniffed back tears. "O-okay."
"Can you . . . walk over there and get us a few napkins?"
Several seconds passed before Tommy would risk shifting his gaze from Hank, before finally nodding. "Where we gots our drinks?"
"Uh-huh." Hank was careful to remain still, as though he were approaching an injured animal. Heart beating out of his chest, he forced himself to remain calm. Don't make it worse, his brain shouted. But . . . how many times? How many beatings did it take . . . before you learned to watch every move your father made? The part of his brain that wasn't frozen was calculating math. Two and four. They'd been two and four when she left him. The bastard had beaten a four-year-old? He shuddered. Or younger. "Just grab a bunch and come back here," he heard himself say, his voice nearly clinical in tone. "We'll get this cleaned up in no time. Then—if everyone's done . . . we'll go to the park."
Tommy blinked. "We—we can still go? You'll . . . still take us?"
"Of course, we're going." Slowly, he lowered into a squat so he'd be at Tommy's eye level. "TomTom, I promised you and your brother we would go to the park. That means we're going."
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