Passion Punch

by Tricia Leedom

  The glare he shot April made her flinch, but she covered her wariness with a sunny smile. She bent down to the kid’s level. “Archie, Mommy has to work, but Mr. Jonas is going to take you to Aunt Molly’s house. You’re going to stay with her and Uncle Anders for a few days.”

  Shit. “He better not be there.”

  April grabbed a black crayon and concentrated on filling in the tail of the cartoon dog the kid colored. “Molly said he was going fishing with Jimmy. I doubt they’re back yet.”

  “Hmm.”

  April kissed the top of the kid’s head and straightened.

  “I’ll be right back with your lunch, Sweetie.” When she turned, her expensive designer perfume filled Jonas’ nose. “Thank you.”

  “Yeah.” He slid into the booth as he watched her leave.

  The kid scribbled the head of the cartoon dog with a fat brown crayon not even trying to be neat.

  “You’re supposed to stay inside the lines.”

  “I know.” The kid didn’t look up.

  “Rebel.”

  “Color with me.” He pushed the other side of the book across the table.

  Jonas hesitated. The last thing he wanted to do was play with the kid. Sighing, he grabbed a purple crayon and colored the cartoon pig, being extra careful to stay inside the lines.

  The kid eyeballed Jonas’ work and frowned. “Pigs are pink not purple.”

  “I know.”

  “Webel.” The kid giggled and went back to his dog.

  April returned from the kitchen balancing two plates of grilled cheese sandwiches and two cartons of milk on a tray. Weaving her way through the growing lunch crowd, she stopped short when she spotted Jonas and Archie with their bent heads tilted at the exact same angle. Their right hands curled too far inward as they concentrated on what they were coloring. A habit she was trying to break in Archie. A habit no one bothered to correct in Jonas. She shouldn’t have been so shocked by their similarities considering how much Archie physically resembled his father, but a hard, slow thrum beat in her chest and climbed to her ears as she continued on to their table.

  “Here you go, fellas. Lunch. I hope you’re hungry, Jonas, because I had the cook make you a sandwich too.” It really had been for her, but she could grab something later. She set the plates on the table in front of them. “Eat it all. I’ll check on you in a little bit.”

  “Okay, Mommy.” Archie took a huge bite of his sandwich and chewed.

  When Jonas reached across the table and opened the milk cartoon for Archie before April could ask him to, something inside of her melted. Jonas was such hard, tough man clearly out of his element, but with Archie, he was a natural.

  “Is young Archie enjoying his sandwich?” Carly stopped by the table.

  Archie gave her a thumbs up.

  “I really appreciate you helping out today, April,” Carly said.

  “Oh, it’s no problem at all.”

  Jonas raised a skeptical eyebrow.

  April ignored it. “How’d it go with Terrance?”

  Carly gave a white gloved thumbs up and a wink. She’d paid off the loan shark, so maybe he’d leave her alone now.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” Lonzo, the bartender, announced as he scrambled through the door in the exact same outfit April wore. Holding his wig in one hand and a Marlins baseball backpack in the other, he waved to a frowning Carly. She had a strict rule about being in hair and makeup and ready to work when your shift started, but everyone including Lonzo knew she wouldn’t fire him. It was difficult to find a good bartender, let alone one who was willing to dress in drag despite the fact he’d never been inclined to put on women’s clothing before he’d accepted the job at Glitter.

  Carly rolled her heavily made up eyes. “Put the man in a little makeup and a skirt and he turns into a raging diva. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to give him shit.” She winked at Carly and followed Lonzo to the bar. “You’re late!”

  More customers filtered through the door. “I have to get to work. Be a good boy for Aunt Molly. I won’t be gone for more than a few days.” She hoped.

  “Okay, mommy.” Archie picked up the carton of milk and took a sip.

  “And don’t forget your backpack.”

  He nodded.

  April’s chest swelled with emotion, and she blinked back tears. She hated leaving Archie behind, but her gut told her not to bring him to Brazil. She gave him a tight squeeze and shot Jonas a grateful smile, before she hurried off to work.

  Sometime later, while she scrambled between tables, she spotted Jonas rise from the booth. Archie offered his hand, but Jonas didn’t take it. Instead, he gestured for Archie to walk in front of him, and they headed for the exit. For a moment, as Jonas opened the door, the shadowed outline of his broad-shouldered form stood in contrast against the glare of bright sunshine. When he came into focus again, April’s her heart skipped a beat. He was holding Archie’s hand.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The tingling sensation on the back of Jonas’ neck never failed to warn him of a threat. As he and the kid crossed Duval and headed down a quiet street in Old Town, his Spidey senses were on high alert. Except for the pair of tourists who road past them on bicycles, they appeared to be alone. The kid still held his fingers in a death grip while he sang softly to himself. He carried an overstuffed backpack flung over his shoulder, but that didn’t stop him from jumping over the cracks between the sidewalks every few feet.

  Jonas glanced over his shoulder. Nobody. He scanned the overgrown tropical bushes and shrubs that lined the opposite side of the street. Nothing.

  Had he been alone, Jonas would’ve blended into the overgrowth himself and disappeared. The small, sticky human on his left made that exit route impossible. They had three more blocks to go - one up and two over – but leading whoever followed them to Anders’ door wasn’t a smart idea.

  “Why is the sun hot?”

  “Huh?” Jonas glanced down at the kid. He was walking along beside him, watching his feet.

  “Why is it hot?” The kid tilted his head to look up at him and squinted. “Why did you draw on your neck?”

  “Draw—?” Jonas frowned. “They’re called tattoos.”

  “Why do you have tattoos on your neck?” The kid pointed with his free hand.

  Jonas frowned and ignored the question as the growl of mopeds erupted behind him. He shot a quick glance over his shoulder. No sign of them yet, but they were coming in fast. He stepped up his pace, practically dragging the kid behind him.

  Spotting a narrow alley halfway down the block, Jonas bent to scoop up the kid and made a dash for it. Not wanting to scare him, Jonas walked at a brisk pace between a pair of 8-foot-tall fences.

  The kid stared at his face. “Why do you have a scar?” He pointed to the pale white slash above Jonas’ lip.

  “I was cut by a knife.” Jonas’ boots kicked up loose sand as he searched for the first break in the fences.

  “How did you get cut?”

  “In a fight.”

  Two navy blue eyes widened in shock. “Mama says fighting is bad.”

  “Fighting is bad, but sometimes a guy has to defend himself.” Reaching the first yard without a fence, Jonas hung a right and doubled back toward Duval.

  “I want a tattoo.”

  “You’ll have to wait until your older. Kids can’t have tattoos.”

  “Why?”

  “Because.”

  “’cause why?”

  When they reached the street, Jonas crossed into another yard. Behind the next house, he hung a left.

  An old man stopped weed-whacking to stare at them. “Can I help you folks?”

  “He lost his dog. We thought it went this way. Have you seen it?”

  “Nope.” The old man took off his ballcap and used his arm to wipe the sweat off his brow. “What’s your dog’s name?”

  “Duke.” Archie answered. “He’s brown.”

  A smile tugged the corner of Jonas’ mouth.


  “I’ll keep an eye out for him.” The old man put his hat back on.

  “Thanks.”

  As they continued on, the kid sighed dramatically.

  Jonas was almost afraid to ask. “What’s wrong?”

  “Mommy says I can’t have a dog because she’s too busy.”

  “That’s too bad. Dogs are cool.”

  “Do you have a dog?”

  “You ask a lot of questions.”

  “No, I don’t. Why can’t I have a tattoo?”

  “Because your Mom wouldn’t like it.”

  “Does she like your tattoos?”

  Jonas’ stomach tightened. He gritted his teeth. He didn’t know and didn’t care.

  “Mommy has a scar on her belly.”

  “She does?” Still didn’t care. He sighed. “Since when? How did she get the scar?”

  “You ask too many questions.” A teasing twinkle gleamed in the kid’s eyes.

  Jonas narrow his own. “You’re a little smart ass.”

  The kid broke into a peel of giggles, and Jonas chuckled too.

  The feeling they were being followed faded along with the growl of the mopeds, so he cautiously headed for Molly and Anders’ house again.

  Jonas set the kid on his feet when they reached the sidewalk.

  “Where are we going now?”

  “To Miss Molly’s house.”

  “Yes!” The kid punched the air and hopped a foot off the ground. “I’m going to play with Monte. He’s my best friend.”

  “Cool.”

  “Do you have a best friend?”

  More questions. Jonas sighed. The kid was relentless. He made the Russian police look like amateurs.

  “Do you?” the kid pressed.

  “No. I don’t have any friends.”

  The kid was quiet for the first time since they started their walk, and Jonas silently rejoiced. “Come on, let’s cross here.”

  He was halfway across the wide street when he noticed the kid wasn’t beside him. He had stopped on the grass, his overstuffed backpack on the ground by his feet. His face was tense with worry.

  Jonas was almost afraid to ask. “What’s wrong?”

  “Mommy makes me hold her hand when we cross the street.”

  “Mommy isn’t here.”

  A car honked as it rolled past Jonas missing him by inches. He stepped out of the way toward the kid who stared at him skeptically.

  “What?” Jonas snapped.

  “You should probably hold Mommy’s hand too.”

  The kid was a total wise ass.

  Just like me.

  Jonas frowned and shook off the disturbing thought as he retraced his steps. He grabbed the backpack and flung the strap over his should before he took the kid’s hand. He didn’t drop it when they reached the other side of the road, because he figured Archie would complain about that too. Jonas made a quick scan of the street to make sure no one was creeping up on them, but his instincts told him, whoever had been following them earlier, had backed off.

  Two houses away from their destination, Archie stopped walking and tugged on Jonas’ hand. “How come you don’t have any friends?”

  Jonas shrugged. “I don’t like people and people don’t like me.”

  “I like you.”

  An invisible fist sucker punched him in the gut. Caught off guard, he lost breath and his mind went blank. When his brain started functioning again, his temper flared. Why should he care what an annoying the three-foot-tall interrogator thought of him?

  “Mommy likes you too.”

  Damn it. That pissed him off more.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Why stop now?” Was the kid joking?

  “Would you be my friend?”

  Jonas muttered a curse beneath his breath. “Let’s go.”

  The kid stayed put.

  Jonas was almost to the next house when he stopped and turned around. “I said let’s—” The disappointed expression on Archie’s face thrust him back in time and suddenly Jonas was a kid again, pining after his teenaged brothers who were too busy to hang out with him. He scowled. “Fine. I’ll be your friend. Keep moving.”

  Archie’s little face lit with a smile that rivaled his mother’s and then he ran and tackled Jonas’ waist in a hug that pushed him back a step. A feeling of lightness spread through his body and his hard heart turned to mush. Damn it.

  “Okay, that’s enough,” he growled. “Get moving.”

  The kid grinned up at him and then sprinted ahead.

  Following at his own pace, Jonas reached the beginning of the yard just as the kid high-fived the man sitting on the front stoop.

  “Bye, Jonas!” Archie waved and disappeared inside the house.

  As Anders stretched his jean clad legs out in front of him, the heels of his cowboy boots clunked against the wooden stair. He might be a country singer by profession and couldn’t fight worth a damn, but he could still make Jonas feel a wariness he couldn’t explain.

  Jonas came up the walk and stopped about ten feet away.

  Anders scratched his chin. “I was wondering where you were heading with my godson. I lost you on Petronia. What I want to know is how you manage to do that ninja shit with a 4-year-old in tow?”

  “That was you.”

  “I was on my way home when I spotted you with Archie. I couldn’t reckon what you were doing with him, and I wouldn’t trust you with my guitar, let alone an innocent little boy.”

  Jonas’ brain boiled like gumbo bubbling inside a pressure cooker, but on the outside, his tone was deceptively calm. “The kid’s fine. His mother asked me to drop him off.”

  “I love April like a daughter, but sometimes she doesn’t have a lick of sense.”

  Jonas chucked the backpack at him.

  Anders caught it between his hands like a football, proving his former college quarterback reflexes were still on point after all these years.

  Jonas started for the street.

  “Hey.”

  He stopped on the sidewalk and met his brother’s steely blue gaze across the distance. “What?”

  “I love April like a daughter.”

  “You mentioned that.”

  “You lay a finger on her, and I promise you’ll regret it.”

  For the second time in the same day, a fist rammed into Jonas’ stomach. “Go to hell,” he hissed and walked away.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Please let go of my arm, Chad. I’m not interested,” she said to the former captain of her high school football team. At twenty-four, Chad’s golden good looks had already begun to fade, and his once muscular body had gone soft. After flunking out of his first year at the University of Miami, he’d lost his football scholarship and spiraled ever since. He currently worked part-time as a stocker at the local Home Depot and lived with his mom and aunt.

  Sitting on a stool at the far side of the bar away from the other patrons, he grabbed April roughly and hauled her between his spread thighs. “I’ve always been an ass man, but those tits of yours are pretty spectacular.”

  “I’m flattered, but I have to get back to work. I have customers.”

  “How much?” His beer-soaked breath filled her nose.

  She cringed and turned her face away. Chad came into the bar at least once a month, got drunk, and insisted she go out with him. She usually could put him off with a firm no, but he’d never grabbed her before.

  She sighed impatiently. “How much for what?”

  “To be one of your customers.” He wagged his eyebrows.

  “If you weren’t so stinkin’ drunk, I’d be offended. How about I get you a coffee so you can sober a little bit before you head home?”

  He snorted, pitched forward slightly too far, and caught himself on edge of the bar. “I’ll go home only if you ’scort me there.” He squeezed his thighs together to prevent her from slipping away.

  “I don’t have time for this. Please don’t make me have to hurt you.” An almost full longn
eck beer bottle sat on the bar within April’s reach.

  Chad chuckled. “You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

  “She couldn’t, but I bet I could.” Jonas stood a few feet behind Chad.

  “Piss off. She’s mine.” He gave Jonas the finger and slipped his arm around April’s waist.

  She grabbed the longneck bottle and poured the ice-cold beer over Chad’s head.

  He shouted a curse and let her go.

  April stepped out of the way as Jonas caught Chad from behind in a headlock.

  “Who the hell are you?” he wheezed, trying to pry Jonas’ steely grip away from his neck.

  April hid her smile. “He’s my bodyguard, Chad. You touch me like that again, and I’ll let him hurt you next time.”

  Chad let out a litany of curses as he struggled to break Jonas’ hold. When that failed, he sobbed like a baby and April almost felt sorry for him. Almost. She hadn’t forgotten how mean he and his friend Vince had been to her when she was pregnant.

  “Jonas, can you take him outside and put him in a cab? I don’t want to make a bigger scene than we already have.”

  For a moment, she didn’t think he would do as she’d asked. The hard expression on his face and the feral gleam in his black eyes gave her goosebumps. At last, he relented and hauled Chad out the door.

  Apprehension tickled down her spine as she imagined what Jonas might do to Chad. She took a step in their direction but stopped. She was being silly. Jonas wouldn’t hurt him. He’d merely scare the crap out of Chad and send him on his way.

  She returned to work, but every time the front door opened, her gaze strayed toward it. What should have taken a few minutes turned into ten. When Jonas finally came through the door, her heart did an odd little flip. Their eyes met across the crowded room and her breath caught as an electrical current zinged between them. The feral gleam in his eyes hadn’t left. With his gaze fixed on her, he started across the room, weaving his way through the tables.

  Her heart started to pound in a deep, languid rhythm.

  When he stopped a few feet away from her, a thrill spiraled through her belly.