Lifetime Risk (Pelican Bay Security Book 7)

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Lifetime Risk (Pelican Bay Security Book 7) Page 9

by MEGAN MATTHEWS


  My heart melts at the situation — a moment of happiness mixed in with worry over my daughter and trying to remember where I stashed the thermometer the last time I needed it. All the happy feelings disappear when I turn back and see the spreading green glop as it takes over the rest of the clear liquid in the tub. How did I get stuck with this part of cleanup?

  “Don’t you need to work this week?” Nate asks, leaning over my bed and lacing his black chunky work boots he wears every day.

  I lie back on the bed, readjusting my head on the pillow as I pull the covers up around my shoulders. “No, I got through to my boss, but he said the temp worker who replaced me is scheduled for the week so I could take another one off.” There isn’t money in the payroll for us both.

  Honestly, I was a little upset at first when he told me they didn’t want to take the hours away from my temporary placement, but my doctor’s note covers me for the rest of the week and I’ve enjoyed being able to stay home with Emma. You miss out on so many little things during the day when you’re working. My ankle is feeling better than even I expected, and by next week I’ll be ready to go back. Plus, Emma will feel better by then.

  “What are you doing at work today?” I ask him every day but he never tells me.

  He did tell me he’d have to run a few “trips” this week. He didn’t elaborate on what the trips were, and even though I’m dying to know, I’m doing my best not to ask. We’re a hot minute into this relationship. I don’t want to become the crazy girlfriend all up in his business.

  There’s a small thread nagging in my brain and warning me that I should worry his trips are to a secret wife or prettier girlfriend, but I work to bash the horrible thoughts down to the far reaches of my brain. Nate doesn’t seem like the cheating type. Plus, I’m sure you have to be with someone for more than a week before they’re allowed to cheat.

  I’m perfectly aware I have trust issues after the divorce — I gave a therapist a lot of money to tell me this many times before I believed it — but I didn’t expect them to show their ugly heads so soon. There’s a small possibility I’m not as grown-up, mature, and rational as I once believed.

  I watch him bend over to tie his other shoe, the muscles in his back stretched across his bare skin enough to make me wish we could stay home and lie in bed together all day. But then Emma cries out and he stands, promising to get her.

  Great muscles and he takes care of a child. Could any woman ask for more?

  Probably more than a crazy woman with trust issues who rides around in a car full of cocaine with two girls from the downtown bakery.

  I have got to get my life together.

  Starting today I will be the perfect mom and girlfriend. I’ll even make some cookies. Cookies make everything better, damn it. I’ll do my hair like my mom always says how it looks cute when I wear it half up and find a dress that makes me look matronly, maybe something a little 1950s era.

  “Her head feels cooler, and she acts like she feels better today,” Nate says, setting Emma on my lap.

  I woke up with her around eleven, gave her more meds, and rocked her back to sleep. At two the sound of her shushed cries rattled me again. I felt my side and found the bed empty. Nate held her in his arms gently, pacing with her in the middle of her bedroom and whispering sweet nothings.

  If I hadn’t been so tired and ready to fall back to sleep right there on the floor, my panties would have melted off. Screw looking at half-naked firemen holding puppies online. All I need is a mental image of Nate being tender to Emma for the rest of my life. He might not know how to do her hair, and he’s still unsuccessfully trying to teach her how not to fling spaghetti against the wall, but the man is amazing with a child who isn’t his own. Better than her actual father.

  “Hello, sweetheart,” I coo and watch as Nate pulls on a black long-sleeve shirt and covers his chest up with a sleeveless vest. It might be Maine, but it’s the middle of the summer and he’s never dressed in layers before.

  “What did you say you’re doing today?” I try again.

  He wrestles with putting a watch on his left wrist, not turning back. “A little of this, a little of that.”

  Fear, jealousy, and suspicion prick at my chest.

  I will not go crazy and demand to know what he’s doing today.

  I will not go crazy and question him before he leaves. That behavior makes me a psycho.

  I take three long breaths and repeat the mantras to myself again. Nate has given me no reason to suspect him, and I won’t ruin a good thing because the asshole I married before screwed with our relationship and my brain.

  “What’s wrong?” Nate asks as Emma pulls on a tendril of my hair.

  I work to remove her tiny little baby fingers that have gotten stuck between the strands and answer, “Nothing.”

  “It’s never nothing when a female says nothing.”

  Do I lie, or be honest and let him see the crazy that is me inside?

  “Is this about the job?” Nate asks, even though by the expression on his face he’s already determined the answer is yes. Smart man.

  I sigh, pretending like he’s the crazy one. “Of course not.”

  “Josie, unfortunately with what I do, I can’t always tell you what I do every day. It keeps you safe and there are confidentiality issues I have to deal with for certain clients,” he says sitting back on the bed.

  All those things are the truth. He’s off doing superspy business or whatever Ridge’s company does, but it’s also a convenient excuse a cheater would use.

  “I’m sorry, it’s just with my past and how crazy I am.”

  He chuckles, kissing me on the forehead like I’m something precious. “You’re not crazy. Look, I won’t be able to be on my phone much today, but I’ll let you track me.”

  My eyes narrow at the suggestion. “Track you?”

  Visions of me sitting in my car, hiding below the window, and using the long scope on a camera to take pictures of him flash in my mind. I watched the show Veronica Mars, but it’s not a career field I’m looking to get into.

  “It’s easy.” He grabs his cell phone from his back pocket and gathers mine from the night table. He taps on the phones for a few seconds and holds them both on his knee. “I thought I told you to password protect this thing?”

  “Emma likes to play the games.” I have colors and letters learning songs on my phone for her. Before I had kids, I always said I wouldn’t be one of those parents who stuck a device in front of my child’s faces, but you know what? They work. You have a kid screaming in a shopping cart because you’re taking too long to pick out what kind of broccoli you want for a side dish next week, and the only way to get them quiet and out of the store without causing a scene is a shove the phone at her, that’s what you do. At least she’s learning her ABCs.

  “There, we’re all set,” Nate says, pressing a few more buttons on my phone.

  He passes it back and then taps on the new green-colored square with a weird white design in the middle. “You tap on the app and the tracker will show you where I am.”

  “For real?” I grab the phone from his hands and the little map loads, showing a red dot and a green dot right next to each other.

  “Promise you won’t tell anyone where my dot is?” he asks, tilting his head to the side and giving me a look.

  “Yes, I promise.” I cross my finger over my heart.

  Who knows why his actions mean so much to me? But they do. I stare at the green dot labeled Nate, reassuring me he’s right next me even though I can see him as he sits on the bed. If I was younger and a little more naïve, I would tell my friends it was absolutely crazy. You don’t attract someone with the issues I have, but I’m older and wiser. My heart has been broken. I’m aware that in life you clutch on to the little things that give you some sense of peace. And call me crazy, but knowing I can see Nate’s green dot whenever I want is already providing me peace. Tabitha’s not so crazy.

  Just the fact he’s willing to
do it and thought of the idea himself is enough. I can’t imagine Barry ever offering such a concession. Then I would’ve known when he was out to late night dinners with his girlfriend or visiting the small studio apartment he’d rented for her. I’d have found out about all those times he promised me he was working late at the office he was at a strip club downtown.

  Nate pats Emma on the head and then slips off the bed. “I’ll be back late. Don’t forget we have dinner at Ridge’s house tonight for a meeting.”

  “Dinner meeting? Aren’t those for his employees only?”

  Nate grins, his white teeth visible in his exaggerated smile. “After yesterday’s trouble, Ridge has decided meetings include girlfriends and eventual wives from now on when they can.”

  “Are we?” I ask, too scared to say the word “dating.”

  Nate nods his head, shaking it once. “Of course we are and even if we weren’t, you still have to go because I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

  “But we are, right?” It’s fine if I want to triple check. Right? Get it in writing.

  “Josie,” he says with a hint of disbelief as he leans down and kisses me on the lips and then tugs gently at Emma’s hair. “I wouldn’t let anyone track my phone unless I planned to be with her for a long time.”

  “Oh,” my face heats and breaks out into a smile, way too happy over the fact Nate just made me his girlfriend.

  It feels so much like high school, but I don’t care.

  I have a boyfriend.

  I have a boyfriend and he’s hot.

  “My phone will be on silent, but if something happens or you need me, text.” He tucks his shirt in and heads for the door, turning back once. “And Josie.”

  “Yes,” I respond, looking up from Emma.

  “Don’t leave the apartment.” And then he keeps on walking right out the door.

  Men.

  “Are you sure this shirt looks okay?” I ask, pressing down on the wrinkles I just noticed in the long pink T-shirt I put on to wear to Ridge’s work meeting. The shirt is long enough to cover my butt because since having Emma I haven’t quite gotten my ass cheeks to fit into a pair of jeans properly. I also have a baby, so there was never enough time to go jean shopping.

  Nate stops walking, using a few seconds to grab Emma from my arms and bounce her on his hip. It’s probably the safest choice because I’m not sure I should be trusted to hold the baby, walk, and get creases out of clothing while talking at the same time. “Baby, you look amazing. Stop covering up that ass. It’s a sight to see.”

  I stare up, puzzled. “My ass?”

  He leans back, staring at my rump, and then licks his top lip. “One day I’ll bite it.”

  My eyes widen, a bit in worry and a lot in excitement. I wonder what that would be like?

  “Josie! Over here,” Winnie yells from the front door of Ridge’s home before I get the chance to ask for more details.

  “This won’t be one of those parties where you abandon me to go hang out with your girlfriends. Is it?” Nate asks, smiling… so he’s not upset about the possibility.

  I nod. “Probably.” And that’s wonderful. I can’t remember the last time I had more than one friend at a time. It seems crazy, but I belong to a group. I have friends with an s.

  Nate holds the door open and Emma pushes her favorite baby doll into the side of his neck. Ridge’s home is splendid. We walk up into the large two-story colonial home where I’d expected to see lots of wood in traditional features, but it’s the opposite. I can still see some original features of the house, like a big strong staircase made of dark wood, but the rest of the home is modern with open spaces and large rooms. It’s like every East Coast girl’s wet dream of a house.

  I gasp when we get to the kitchen. There’s white and stainless steel everywhere with a long island separating the room and the countertops glistening. They’re all covered with dishes others have brought. A few store-purchased items are mixed into the lot with homemade options right beside them.

  Nate drops the bag of potato chips we brought, our lackluster combination looking very pitiful next all the covered casserole dishes. I’m just impressed he’d been able to handle Emma and the chips with neither one of them ending up flattened. He’s only been helping me out with Emma for a few weeks and already I feel like he’s better at this whole parenting thing than I am at times.

  Nate’s height puts Emma right at Tabitha’s eye level, and she gets as close to her face as possible, talking in all the cute baby terms about how adorable she is. Emma stares at her and then looks at me as if she’s had enough and it’s time for me to remove her entourage.

  “Nate, you can go out with Ridge and the other guys in the yard. We’ll take care of Emma.”

  Nate eyes Tabitha skeptically. “I’ll take her with me,” he says bouncing Emma a few more times as she smiles and laughs. My child loves him too. “You want to watch the grill. Don’t you?” he asks, and her little face perks up into a smile.

  Tabitha looks to me for help but I only shrug. What can I say? Emma likes the man.

  I watch as Nate walks out the door and notice the smattering of men in the backyard. Ridge has a large deck with a grill set up on the side, and two men hover over the area. Beyond that, in the huge green space of his yard, is a plethora of men — all tall, muscular, and hunky. There has to be at least fifteen people out there.

  Tabitha shakes her head watching me. “Katy will be so upset she missed this. Ridge has done a lot of hiring.”

  “Katy isn’t coming?”

  “She doesn’t come if it’s a couple’s thing. She’s worried about it. I don’t know. I keep telling her it’s no big deal, but she doesn’t listen.”

  “Ridge won’t let Tabitha anywhere near the grill, so we’ve been stuck inside keeping the side dishes warm,” Winnie says with a laugh and changing the subject.

  Tabitha pulls a non-covered casserole dish — what looks to be macaroni and cheese — from the oven and places it on the last bare spot on the counter. “It is for the best,” she says, raising one shoulder in a half shrug. I get the impression this is an argument they’ve before and she’s just given up.

  “You promise there wasn’t a camera in the bathroom?” Anessa asks, walking out from a small powder room off to one side of the kitchen.

  A camera?

  “He promised the bathrooms and bedrooms are clear,” Tabitha says not paying attention as Anessa dries off her hands, whipping them on the top of her jeans.

  “Where do you think they are?” Her eyes search the corners of the room and all the areas where things are gathered.

  “Honestly, I’ve given up trying to figure it out.”

  Winnie rolls her eyes also checking the spaces with Anessa. “I swear I found one in the bakery. It’s tiny, and set into the wall, but it’s a camera for sure.”

  “The cameras aren’t that bad. We have used them a few times,” Tabitha says, smiling at her friends while their eyes continue to search the room. “I just go with it.”

  Winnie nods. “You are marrying the man.”

  Tabitha sighs, one of those deep-gut ones that says she’s in love and stares down at her diamond ring. “Yeah.”

  “Wait a minute,” I step toward the girls, still putting all the pieces together. “Ridge has cameras?”

  “Everywhere. How do you think he got to the bakery so fast when you guys pulled up with boxes of coke?” Tabitha’s eyes widen. She still can’t believe we drove a car to Anessa’s bakery while it was full of drugs. Neither can I, quite frankly.

  “I thought you called them?”

  She tips her shoulder up again. “I walked into the back of the bakery and said, ‘Hey, Ridge, there’s a car of drugs here,’ but he already knew. It’s the same thing.”

  Except, it’s not. How does she think it’s even similar?

  “The cameras are nothing, but after the drugs, he brought back the security guard at the bakery. One of his poor guys just sits there all day looking
at us.”

  “The bakery has a security guard?” I ask. I’ve never seen anyone there.

  Anessa nods. “From his company, he and Bennett make somebody sit there all day doing nothing but watching us, eating food, and drinking coffee.” She pauses for a moment lost in thought. “Now that I think about it, the guys might not mind the job so much. But it’s weird on my end.”

  “Especially when Dom or one of his brothers comes in.” Tabitha uncovers a few more dishes on the counter, balling up tinfoil and throwing it in the trash.

  “Who is Dom?”

  Anessa leans closer, whispering like she’s scared somebody will hear her talking. “He runs the local motorcycle gang. He and Bennett have this uneasy alliance, but I wouldn’t call them friendly.”

  “The alliance or the guys?”

  “Bennett and Dom. The actual guys in the club are super nice.”

  Tabitha nods. “They’re at the bakery about once a day and are always polite.”

  “I don’t know why everyone dislikes them,” Winnie chips in.

  Definitely living in the twilight zone.

  The front door opens and a woman’s voice calls out. “We’re here.”

  Tabitha comes across the other side of the island and hugs a blonde-haired woman. “Josie this is Joslin. She’s dating Spencer. I’m so glad they let him off the cameras for the day so you could eat with us.”

  “Josie and Jocelyn,” Winnie says, staring at the both of us. “What’s with all the J names?”

  I shrug. “People like J names.”

  “Anyway,” Tabitha says clearing her throat. “We were talking about all the new crazy things the guys are making us do after Katy’s little incident with the drugs. What does Spencer have you doing?”

  Jocelyn thinks for a second. “I don’t have any. He’s crazy and protective in general so not much has changed.”

  Winnie and Tabitha laugh like these conversations are natural.

  The back door opens and a tall brown-haired guy peeks his head in. “Hey, Jos. Wanna come hang out with me?”

  “She’s with the girls,” Tabitha yells back, her face perplexed.

 

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