by Rebecca Deel
“Callahan’s working on that, too. Has to be the Kings’ hacker.”
“Put as many layers as you can between my family and their computer hacker. He’s already traced me to the cabin. I don’t want the Kings targeting my parents or sister.”
“Already on it. I’ll check in tonight. Call me if something else comes up.”
His next call went to his father. “Morning, Dad.”
“What’s going on, son?”
Yeah, that answered his unspoken question. His parents had seen his cabin on the morning news. “Long story. I don’t know enough details yet. Tell Mom I’m okay, just out of pocket for a few days. Dad, I don’t want her or Nicole going to the house until I tell you it’s safe.”
“That bad?”
“Not sure.”
“You will tell me when you know.”
He grinned. Not a question. A demand. “Yes, sir.”
After dodging a few more pointed questions from both parents, Micah ended the call with a promise to call again in a few hours as Sophie opened the door. A steamy mist drifted out of the doorway. Dressed in black slacks and a hot pink sweater, she looked good enough to nibble on. He blew out a breath. Yeah, not the best thoughts to pursue for a guy who would have to get out of bed and shower after he passed the gorgeous woman he wanted to bite.
He placed the phone on the nightstand, watching her walk from the bathroom. Slight limp, but not as bad as he’d feared considering the tightness of her muscle earlier this morning. If Sophie had to run, could she? “How is your leg?”
“A little sore, but I can live with it.” She tilted her head, her damp hair cascading over her shoulder. “Did you get a call?”
“Made one to Brent and my parents.”
Sophie rummaged in her overnight case and grabbed a hair brush. Sophie sat on the edge of the bed, back to him, and went to work on her hair. “How is Winston?”
“Broken ankle, like he thought.” He bit back a groan of frustration, wanting nothing more than to grab the brush and take over the task himself. He longed to sink his fingers into those black locks and skim his lips across the delicate curve of her neck.
And thoughts like those weren’t helping. No better time to make the escape to the bathroom. Micah threw back the covers and slid to the floor. His breath hissed between his teeth. He hated cold floors. He collected his shaving kit and change of clothes and closed the bathroom door behind him.
#
Sophie moaned, eyes almost closing at the pleasure coursing through her veins. “Oh, Micah, this is so good.”
An amused smile curved his lips. “Thought you might like a little caffeine this morning. I know it’s not real coffee or a Coke, but it should give you an energy boost after your interrupted night.”
“It’s chocolate.” She sipped more of the hot cocoa, savored the cinnamon sprinkled on the rich drink. “Can’t ever go wrong with chocolate and sugar.” Sophie popped the last morsel of blueberry bagel topped with cream cheese into her mouth. She’d almost cried when the owner of the bed and breakfast had listened sympathetically to her complaints of early morning nausea and brought the bagel to their table along with a pot of herbal tea. While she had been in the restroom for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning, Micah had asked for the mug of chocolate she now wrapped her hands around.
The small dining room was empty of the other guests when Sophie finished the last of her drink and leaned back in her chair. “What did Brent say?”
“Abbott’s digging for dirt.”
Sophie froze. “On me?” What could he find? Her juvie record was sealed and she hadn’t been in trouble with the law since she turned sixteen. Well, at least not caught by the law. All other not-quite-legal activities since then were necessitated by Sierra’s thievery. None of the victim’s knew she had been the one to replace their jewels. Sophie made sure no security cameras or guards caught sight of her anywhere near the homes. What if she had missed one? Her light breakfast threatened to reappear in an embarrassing display of nausea. Years behind bars without holding her son? Not going to happen as long as she drew breath.
Silent laughter lit his eyes. “Not this time. He’s slinging mud my direction.”
Outrage surged to the point that Sophie had to clamp her lips shut on an angry tirade in Micah’s defense. Although the dining room was empty, someone might overhear. They didn’t need to make a lasting impression on these nice ladies. If the Kings or her thug tracked them to this inn, Missy or her mother might be hurt. The less they knew, the safer for them. These women wouldn’t stand a chance against the evil trailing her and Micah.
“What is wrong with him?” she whispered, hands clenched around her mug. “He’s supposed to look for the creep terrorizing me, not harass you.”
“Think like a cop, Sophie. Abbott suspects every person involved. Every perp claims innocence. I’m capable of getting away with this crime. He doesn’t know anything about us and he’s seen plenty of domestic squabbles involving abusive husbands or boyfriends.”
“You would never hurt me or our baby.”
“Care to guess how many times he’s heard that story?”
“Give me his number.” Sophie’s face burned. How could Micah sit there and discuss the maligning of his character without raising his voice when she struggled to keep her own tones at a fierce whisper? Somebody needed to kick Detective Abbott across the parking lot and she was just the woman to do it. A stop by the house to retrieve shoes with sharp pointed toes and she would be ready. “I have a few things to say to that man.” None of them were nice.
“He won’t find anything I don’t want him to see.”
“Is that right? Well, how did those thugs find you last night?”
Micah grimaced. “The Kings’ computer hacker is better than Abbott in cyberspace. Brent’s team is burying my family’s information deeper, but I don’t know how long their layers will hold.”
“Your family’s at risk?” His flat voice might fool someone else. Not her. Micah’s fire-filled eyes betrayed the rage he felt at someone threatening his family. The Winter family shouldn’t have to pay for Micah defending himself against an armed thug. And with that thought, the Valero family members occupying the cemetery rolled over in their graves. Sophie never would have dreamed of defending a cop’s actions a few days ago.
“Not for long.”
“You have a plan?”
“Maybe.” He eyed her empty mug. “Need more cocoa or are you ready to leave?”
Sophie narrowed her eyes. “Don’t think for a minute you’re getting away with that segue. I want details.”
“Not now, sweetheart.” He smiled at someone over her shoulder. “Thank you for taking such good care of my wife, Missy. I think that hot chocolate did the trick.” His gaze dropped back to Sophie. “Isn’t that right, love?”
Sophie’s eyes widened at the new endearment. Wow. If he ever meant any of those sweet names when he said them to her, she’d melt into a puddle at his feet. Micah Winter’s charm was potent. A glance at Missy’s envious expression revealed the young innkeeper felt the same way. “A blueberry bagel with a chocolate and sugar chaser. What’s not to love?”
That startled a laugh from their hostess. “My feelings exactly. I’ll share your comments with Mom. She’ll be pleased.”
“We need to check on the house. I’m afraid the pipes might freeze and with Susan’s due date so close, I don’t want to take any chances. We don’t want to take our daughter to a hotel instead of her Pooh nursery.”
Pooh nursery? Sophie kept her gaze fixed on Micah, not daring to roll her eyes for fear Missy might wonder at the byplay between them.
“Aw, how sweet. Have you chosen a name yet?”
Nice going, Micah. Good thing Sophie already knew where Missy was headed with her questions. One thing an expectant mother learned early was everybody wanted to know her due date, the sex of the baby, and a name. Too bad her baby was a boy. What she wouldn’t give to see Micah wrapped around
the pinkie of his daughter. Big, bad lawman, mush at her tears and dangerous to any young man hoping for a date.
Sophie’s throat tightened. Not likely she’d get a chance to see that happen. His next child would be with a woman he loved. She cleared her throat. “Emma Rose.”
“How beautiful.” Missy sighed. “Well, I’ll get your bill ready. See you in a few minutes.”
She remained silent as the footsteps faded away, almost afraid to speak in light of the emotion flickering in Micah’s dark eyes. Finally, she couldn’t stand the silence any longer. Sophie slid her hand across the table and laid it across his, her touch light. “Micah?”
His hand clamped around hers in an almost painful grip. “Emma Rose?”
At his hoarse, strangled voice, a knot of ice formed in her stomach. A solid kick in her midsection let her know Junior noticed her sudden tension. “Missy’s right. It’s a beautiful name and one I planned to use.” She smiled a little. “Now we need to think of another good one for a boy.”
“Why that name, Sophie?”
Another quick glance confirmed no one was within earshot. “Sierra and David hadn’t chosen a name and with all that happened, I didn’t think your family would appreciate a constant reminder of the Valero role in their son’s life and maybe his death.” She thought Micah’s family would appreciate the tribute to their beloved grandmother. If his reaction was any indication, maybe the rest of the family would be horrified with the name bestowed on a Valero baby.
Against all logic, hurt welled inside her and that sparked a smoldering in her gut. Why shouldn’t she use the name? Sophie may have inherited genetics from the Valeros, but that didn’t mean she’d adopted their morals. She would have made sure her daughter reflected the character of the woman who originally bore the name. Maybe Micah still believed Sophie reflected the unsavory Valero traits and that thought hurt more than it should. She couldn’t deny her family tree any more than Micah could. Sophie’s last name, however, did not define her and she was determined to leave the past in the dust where it belonged.
“David told you about Gram, didn’t he?”
She nodded. Admiration for Emma Rose Chaney had prompted Sophie to choose the name for Sierra’s daughter. Her daughter, she corrected herself. What better role model for a girl than a woman who left an abusive relationship with her own baby daughter on her hip and one suitcase, a woman who worked long hours to clothe and house herself and her child while staying one step ahead of her husband. Emma Chaney never stayed in one place too long until she received word that Lance Chaney was killed one night in a bar fight. “I admired her determination to provide her child with as normal a life as possible under the circumstances. She kept her daughter clothed and fed and as safe as she could under the horrific circumstances she endured. In a time when most women hid the abuse, Mrs. Chaney ran and in the process saved herself and her daughter.”
Micah changed his grip on her hand and lifted it to his mouth, brushed her knuckled with his lips. “A determination you shared to provide for our baby all on your own if I rejected you both.”
What could she say? She shrugged. No child of hers would ever feel rejected. Sophie had experienced enough of that growing up in various Valero households, enduring ridicule and anger when she refused to contribute to the family income through thievery.
Micah closed his eyes briefly. When he opened his eyes again, something she couldn’t identify lit his gaze. “Do you have any idea how much I admire you, baby?”
Stunned, Sophie sat in silence. He admired her? What happened to all Valeros being alike?
Another soft kiss across her knuckles, then his expression cleared. “We need to get moving.”
Sophie blinked. Right. Gut wrenching emotional session over for now. Micah came around the table and helped her stand.
Instead of moving away as she expected, he edged close and cupped her face between his hands. “Thank you,” he whispered. A gentle kiss and he stepped aside with one last brush of his thumb over her bottom lip.
Her shiver brought a slight smile to his mouth and masculine smugness to his expression.
#
Thirty minutes later, Micah buckled his seatbelt and maneuvered the Tahoe down the Blueberry Inn’s slick driveway. Once more on level roadway, he slid his cell phone into the hands-free holder on his dashboard and punched in a familiar number.
One ring, two, a third, then a voice eerily like David’s answered his call, filling the vehicle’s cabin. “Hey, Dad.”
“Micah.” Caution threaded through his father’s voice. “How you feeling, son?”
“Healing. Is Mom close by?” He couldn’t say what needed saying if his mother was near. Somehow she always knew when something was wrong, even if Dad never said a word. Micah had watched his father receive bad news many times. The old man’s face reflected no changes, not even a blink. Maybe his mother had an extra measure of woman’s intuition. Whatever it was, Olivia Winter ferreted out information better than some professionals he knew.
“Wait.” A thump, footsteps, then he said, “She just left to go shopping with Nicole and the kids. Talk to me.”
Never could pull anything over on his father either. “Take Mom, Nicole, and her family to see Aunt Dora.”
Silence greeted Micah’s demand. Sophie’s head turned his direction. Though she said nothing, Micah sensed her surprise at his demand. He squeezed her hand before once again gripping the wheel with both hands.
He knew his father well enough to know the older Winter was sifting through everything Micah had said and not said before responding.
“This connected to last night?”
Oh, yeah. Dan Winter was still sharp and intuitive as ever. His parents were well matched. “Yes.” Since Mom hadn’t been burning up the phone wires to see if he was safe, his father must have kept his mother from seeing the news report about the home invasion at his cabin.
More silence. Micah squashed his impatience. His father never hurried his actions or his words unless imminent danger threatened those he loved. Once Dan Winter realized the extent of the danger looming over them, his family would be on a plane bound for London in a matter of hours and out of the Kings’ direct line of fire.
Computer keys clicked at a rapid pace over the airwaves. “How long?”
The tension knotting his muscles loosened. “Until I call and tell you it’s safe to return.”
A pause in the typing. More rapid clicks. “Flight’s at 2:00. One way passage for six. Should I book a ticket for you as well, son?”
Micah’s throat tightened. “Thanks, Dad, but the Kings will be waiting when I return. They have long memories. At least this way, they’ll have six fewer targets and I won’t have to divide my focus.”
“What about Sierra’s sister, Sophie? Is she in danger?”
Sophie stiffened.
“Sir?” Micah hands gripped the wheel tighter. He had no intention of lying to his father, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t fish for information. An information leak about Sophie’s connection to him left Micah scared spitless. Did she have a passport? Beyond that, could she travel overseas at this stage in her pregnancy? The possibility of her going into labor without him by her side raised an instant tsunami of denial. If she wanted to leave the country, he’d book her ticket in a heartbeat and join her as soon as he’d cleaned up this mess with the Kings and eliminated the threat to Sophie. He caught her gaze, his eyebrow raised in silent inquiry.
Her scowl and an emphatic shake of her head left no doubt as to her opinion on the matter. Yeah, didn’t think that idea would fly. Sophie Valero didn’t back away from a challenge. However, if things grew too hot here, he would pack her off to England, even if he had to escort her to Aunt Dora’s place himself.
“Your mother’s been concerned about the girl’s welfare the last few days. We haven’t heard from her since the funeral. Can you check on her?”
“I’ll keep her safe.” Micah voice roughened. “I’m sorry, Dad. I never want
ed my choices to impact the family.”
“Every choice we make impacts those around us. Don’t waste time on regrets, Micah. We can’t change the past. All we can do is walk away from it if we have enough courage.”
He blinked hard to clear mist from his vision. The woman seated next to him had been courageous enough to walk away from her past and create something vital and good for herself. She would be a great mother to his child.
“Is this connected to your job, son?”
“The D.C. shooting.”
“Hear me well, Micah. I better not get a phone call from your supervisor informing me of your death at the hands of these punks.”
“Not going to happen.”
“See that it doesn’t. I would hate to have to come back here and clean out that nest of vipers myself.”
Micah grinned at the gunnery sergeant coming out in his father. Once a Marine, always a Marine. He didn’t doubt his father’s determination to avenge his death, no matter the cost to himself. The smile faded. He’d have to take care of this business before his father decided to lend him a hand. Micah figured he had about two weeks before the senior Winter returned to take on the gangbangers himself. “I’m sending some friends to help you get the others to the airport without incident. They’re from Brent’s security company and will have ID.”
“Understood. Love you, son. Stay safe.”
“Love you, too, Dad.” A flick of his finger disconnected the call. Silence swelled inside the Tahoe’s cab.
“I’m not leaving you here by yourself to deal with my problem, Micah.”
“Not even to save the life of our son?”
“That’s not fair. You know his safety is my top priority. You are his best chance of survival. Besides, your aunt lives in London. I can’t fly overseas this close to delivery.”
Micah sighed. “Yeah, I thought that might be the case. Look, I don’t want to keep dropping you into different locations each night. Makes it hard for me to set up a defensive position and leads to the possibility of innocents being caught in the crossfire if one side or the other tracks us down.”
