In an hour, he would be meeting with one of his former slaves, Camila, on the south side of the pond. He’d learned she was attempting to bring down a new slave ring in Austin and was in over her head. Even with her cartel connections, it had been too ambitious and risky as hell. She needed help, and fuck him, but being a husband and a father fueled him with a crazy amount of protective drive, which included a bloodthirsty need to wipe the city of sex trafficking.
Amber was skittish about his involvement, but she would come around. He wouldn’t give her a choice.
Up ahead, an old lady and her Boston Terrier stepped into Amber’s backward running path. If Amber didn’t turn back around soon, she was going to collide with them.
“Amber.” He panted for air. “Watch yourself.”
As she spun around, he glimpsed the tightening of her fist and the flinch of her shoulders. No one around her would notice the traces of her anxiety, the way she cracked her knuckles too often, the tiny hiccups in her breathing, and the trickle of sweat between her breasts. They would only see the confident woman she was with a knockout body and face so ethereal it compelled longing glances.
Every day she left the house was a workout for her. The agoraphobia would always be there, but she made it her bitch with an inspiring amount of courage.
He caught up with her on the bend around the pond and ran at her side. Christ, he loved seeing her at his side. Good thing, too, since they worked together every day out of the garage at the cabin. Her leathercraft business had trickled into the doll market, and they were inundated with orders.
When they reached the next bend, his pocket vibrated. He checked the caller ID and grabbed her elbow, veering them off the track.
Slowing to a stop and hunching over with a hand on his knee, he lifted the phone to his ear. “Hey, sweetheart.”
A melodic voice tinkled through the phone. “Daddy?”
Damn, he would never get tired of hearing her call him that. And it was the only greeting she gave before charging into the reason for her call. “You can’t just go around threat—”
“I’m doing great.” He smiled, feeling the easiness of it inside and out. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.” She sniffed then rushed on in her high-pitched voice. “But Katie told Jena, and Jena told—”
“Livana.” He used his warning tone, winking at Amber. “Slow down.”
Amber bent at the waist in a stretch that put her chest on her thighs and her ass in the air. He leaned with her, mesmerized, as blood rushed to his dick. He dropped the phone.
She gave him an upside down grin, her ponytail swishing over the ground.
He returned the phone to his ear and pulled his shirt over the front of his pants.
“—can’t do that,” Livana said. “Are you there?”
“Yeah, honey. I dropped the phone. Start over.”
“Did you threaten Danny Taylor?”
Oh, that. “I didn’t threaten him. I simply enlightened him.”
Amber straightened, shaking her head and licking the corner of her curved mouth, the vixen.
“Mom already said I could go to the dance.” Livana’s voice pierced through the phone, cool and sure and just like Liv’s.
By mom, she meant Mr. E’s widow, Carolyn Eary, her legal guardian who raised her from birth and still provided the roof over her head.
What had started out as Liv introducing him as a family friend was now a unique, and often delicate, arrangement. He’d spent a lot of time with Carolyn in those first few months, feeling her out. When he finally revealed his identity, she was understandably skeptical of his intentions. But he’d proved himself as he’d done with Liv, and a year after he’d met Livana, Carolyn told her whom her biological parents were.
Livana knew nothing of their criminal history, but she did know how to play all three of them to get what she wanted. Carolyn was a fucking pushover. He was a drill sergeant. But Liv was the wild card.
“What did Liv say?”
“She said to ask you.”
“I didn’t hear you ask.”
Even irritated, her sigh was the sweetest damned sound. “Daddy, can I please go to the dance?”
“You’re too young.”
“I’m twelve!”
He dug a toothpick from his pocket and slid it into his mouth. He was done jogging for the night. Amber was in the midst of another erotic stretch and his focus was shit. “You can go, and I will chaperone.”
A long pause. “Ugh. Fine.”
Well, that was easy. Maybe she didn’t realize he would be at her side the entire evening. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
He pocketed the phone and scanned the park for a spot that would offer the most privacy. When an outcrop of rocks up ahead caught his eye, he gripped Amber’s hand and led her to them.
Behind the cover of a huge boulder, he pressed her against the flat surface and kissed her deeply and thoroughly. “Go to the dance with me, Mrs. Quiso.”
She answered by returning his kiss and flicking her tongue wildly and aggressively. They’d been married for two years, but every day felt like a honeymoon. He ran his hands up her spandex-clad thighs, cupped the hard muscles of her ass, and caressed the soft curves with his fingers.
Yeah, sex in a public park wasn’t the best idea for a guy who wanted to remain under the radar. But as she flexed her hips, tangled her tongue with his, and aroused every nerve-ending in his body, his only thought was Yes.
She reached for her shirt and pulled it over her head, her tits tumbling over the cage of her sports bra. Jesus. Whether in shackles and hanging naked from a tree or seconds away from losing her panties in a park, her ability to shock and awe him was infinite.
Curling her arms around his shoulders,
