“Yeah.” She sighs. “We all need to eat. If Oliver doesn’t soon, he’ll get cranky.”
“You need me to carry him back to the car?”
She looks up at me, those blue eyes somewhere between surprised and grateful. “I would really appreciate that.”
It’s a small task that requires almost no effort, but I suspect the men in her life haven’t been kind to her. Why? She’s made mistakes, sure. But she’s paying for them. And unless something changes, she’ll be paying for them for years to come.
“No problem.” I scan the little apartment to ensure I’ve packed up all my gear. I toss out the rest of last night’s takeout. Joe will appreciate the beer I’m leaving behind. The bedroom and bathroom are about as clean as he left them. I take a minute to jot him a note thanking him and let him know I’ll run his spare key back as soon as I’m able. “Let’s go.”
Without thinking, I hold out my hand to her. She looks at it, then up at me. “You’re not mad anymore?”
“I was never mad.”
“You were. At Nia’s house.”
“No. I was concerned. An intruder is serious.”
“I know.” She looks away. “I’ve never been more terrified in my life.”
And I yelled. She must think I’m an ass. “You were very brave, and you protected your son. You did well.”
She shakes her head. “I got lucky. He tripped in the dark. While he was trying to regain his balance, I kneed him—hard. I was panicked. I screamed and kicked and hit him over the head with a vase.”
“Which tells me you’ll have the guts to defend yourself even more successfully once I teach you some moves.”
“I tried. I wanted to put him down so the police could arrest him when they came. Even though he bled, like, a lot, the guy got away. The officers who investigated looked at the pool of blood and scolded me for using excessive force.”
Is she serious? “Those officers were idiots. You did what you had to, and I’m glad you didn’t hold back.”
The corners of her lush mouth curl up in a mysterious Mona-Lisa smile. Amanda is beautiful—no question—but that expression takes my fucking breath away.
Bodyguarding her could be decidedly tricky.
Still, I sense almost no one has been in her corner since she got pregnant. I hate to turn my back on her, too. I just need to ignore my sexual urges. I’ve managed to do that for the past few months. What’s another week?
But you’ve never encountered a temptation like her.
Trying to ignore that inconvenient truth, I extend my hand to her again. “You ready to head out now?”
When she slides her hand into mine, the sizzle streaking up my arm isn’t new…but it’s annoyingly stronger. Worse, I have absolutely no control. I’m hyperaware of her softness, her faintly floral scent, and the ping of her gaze at me when her blue eyes fasten on mine.
“Um…sure.” She rises to her feet. “I should get Oliver fed and down for his usual morning nap.”
I clear my throat and force myself to release her. “What about you?”
“I’ll nap when he naps.”
My eyes narrow as I stare at her. “How much did you sleep last night?”
“About two hours. I’ve survived on less. I’ll be fine.”
“No, you need more than a scattered nap or two. You need to be rested and alert, especially in case you need to defend yourself.”
“Well, a twelve-month-old can’t exactly be left to his own devices. Are you going to babysit him?” she asks, pale brow raised in challenge.
“If I need to.”
“Absolutely not.”
This argument is going nowhere. She might hate me being as “overbearing” as my ex-wife, but Amanda isn’t calling the shots while her safety is on the line.
“Let’s go.” I nudge her toward the door.
If I don’t, if I stand here with her face under mine, with her lush mouth just inches away, I’ll keep thinking things I shouldn’t. I’ll stop remembering that doing them isn’t smart and start wondering if doing them is possible. I might even convince myself she wants me to.
Don’t be a dumb ass. Step back, pick up the kid, and act like a professional.
Scooping up Oliver, I peek out the door and scan the parking lot. I still don’t see anyone. There’s a couple with two little kids walking toward the beach a block away. I see an old guy drinking his morning coffee on his balcony across the street. A pair of women are talking a few yards down as one’s antsy dog runs in circles on its leash. I can’t be one hundred percent certain that none of them pose a threat, but my senses tell me they mean Amanda no harm.
I step aside and let her ease out the door. Her body brushes me as she passes, and I wish I wasn’t so aware of her.
“Wait.” I block those nearby from spotting her with my body as I lock the door, escort her to the car, then hastily set Oliver in his car seat.
She taps me on the shoulder. “Do you need help?”
I could probably figure out the buckles and straps of this contraption eventually, but I’d hate to do something wrong in my ignorance. “Sure.”
As I step back, she leans in. I try not to leer at her ass. Or any of her, really. Ellie did her best to enlighten me, and I understand how unwarranted staring could be unwelcome. Besides, Amanda isn’t looking for a lover. And when I’m with her, I shouldn’t be, either.
Moments later, she straightens. I escort her to the passenger’s side and open the door. I’m not sure what reaction I expected. I didn’t foresee her eyes zipping up to mine.
“Trying to be a gentleman?”
I’d suspect she was being snide if her face didn’t seem so wary. “No.
