He stepped back and watched as she fired six rounds, all of them missing her target by a mile. Dammit. That kiss the night before was messing with both of them today. It sure as hell had him in knots. The whole thing had been so unexpected and unreal and unbelievably hot.
Shifting slightly, he did his best to ignore the way heat pooled low in his belly whenever he thought about Leila in his bed, under him, crying out his name as he brought her to orgasm after orgasm.
Shit. Just shit.
This was why he stayed alone. So much less complicated that way.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me today,” she said, taking off her headphones and frowning down at her weapon as she clicked on the safety.
I do, Clint wanted to say, but stopped himself.
She’d been acting squirrelly around him since last night and if he could’ve kicked his own ass for his stupidity, he would have. He couldn’t blame her for the kiss. She was under enormous stress and wasn’t thinking clearly. He should’ve stopped it, no matter how amazing it felt to hold her at last.
“Try it again,” he said, glancing through the door to check on Suzie, who was watching Thomas again. Usually, Leila had her lesson before they picked Thomas up for the night, but an accident on the road ahead of them had meant they’d had to miss their usual time slot, so they’d come after getting Thomas instead. The kid still had Clint’s rabbit clutched tight in his hand. He hadn’t let it go since Clint had given it to him the night before. At the sight, warmth squeezed Clint’s heart, touching him deeper than he cared to admit. The thought that he’d made Thomas’s life a tiny bit happier and brighter had him feeling ten-feet tall.
“I’m just wasting ammo,” Leila grumbled, popping out the empty magazine from her Lugar to put in a fresh one. “This is ridiculous. I need to concentrate. I need to get this right, with Mike out there somewhere and Thomas depending on me and…”
Her stress clawed at his chest and he stepped closer to place his hands on her shoulders. “Hey, relax, okay? All this tension isn’t making the situation any better. Besides, I think we both know what is bothering us today.”
Leila looked up at him then, the heat and wariness in her dark brown nearly dropping him to his knees. “Yeah? And what’s that?”
Damn. She was going to make him say. Fine. Clint cleared his suddenly tight throat. “The kiss.”
She licked her lips and he stared at the tiny movement of her soft pink tongue, mesmerized. Then she stepped back, away from him. He missed her heat immediately. “I’m fine. It was just a kiss. Not a big deal.”
There was a slight roughness to her words that told him her statement was a lie. She was every bit as affected by what had happened between them as he was. He’d have been wise to try and put the memory aside, like she was. But every cell in Clint’s body was yelling at him to give in, to see where things went with her, to let nature take its course.
After all, this unresolved sexual tension was doing nothing but distracting them both and neither of them could afford it right now. Perhaps it was best to sleep together and get it over with. Get it out of their systems and move the hell on.
At least that’s the excuse he was going with. “Hey, how about we give it up for today. Go home and have a nice dinner. Relax. Put it all behind us. I bought more steaks and there’s baked potatoes too.”
Leila looked at him a long moment, and for a second, he feared she tell him to fuck off. But then she seemed to come to a decision within herself and she nodded. “Sounds perfect.”
* * *
Usually, Thomas sat in his carrier with them at the dinner table. But he’d been rubbing his eyes while she fed him his dinner earlier, so she’d put him to bed before she and Clint sat down to eat. There was a lingering tension between them ever since the kiss the night before and she wasn’t sure what to do about it. Whatever she decided, it needed to be dealt with quickly. She couldn’t have this thing between them messing with her mojo, not with so much on the line right now.
She cut into her perfectly cooked steak and took a bite, the delicious flavour of char-boiled beef filling her mouth. Unfortunately, she couldn’t enjoy it because Clint was currently sitting across the table from her, frowning down at his baked potato. She shouldn’t care about him and yet, she did. He’d been her rescuer, offering her and her son a safe place to hide out until they got their lives back together. He was teaching her not just how to use a gun, but how to trust other people. Heady stuff for a woman who’d never planned to depend on anyone else ever again.
“What’s wrong?” she finally asked, taking a sip of the bottle of ale he’d opened for her.
“Nothing,” he said, shovelling in another mouthful of his meal and avoiding her gaze. His dour tone suggested the opposite. “Just tired, I guess.”
Okay. Sure. The common-sense part of her brain said she should accept that and leave it alone. Her heart, however, compelled her to find out more, wanted to see that slow, sexy smile grace his lips again and warm his gorgeous blue eyes. Leila took another small bite of steak and tried a different route. “This meal’s delicious.”
Clint grunted in response, taking a long drink of his ale. He put the half-empty bottle down then narrowed his gaze on the living room. “God, this place is a mess.”
“Oh.” She tracked his focus to the toys and baby clothes strewn over his formerly pristine floor and furniture and winced. They’d been so busy the past few days she hadn’t really had a chance to clean up after herself or Thomas. For a guy who’d basically lived in a monastery before she’d moved-in, that must be tough for him to deal with. “Sorry. Life with a toddler is messy and it’s been more hectic than usual. I’ll clean it up right after we finish eating.”
“Whatever,” he said, his grumpiness persisting. He’d been a bit distant today at the firing range too. Then again, she’d been frustrated about her performance as well. Frustrated by that stupid kiss, truth be told. Not because she hadn’t enjoyed it. She had. Way more than she should. In fact, it had been all she’d thought about afterward. She’d even dreamt about it last night. Kissing him, holding him, making love to him until neither one of them cared about guns or her ex or anything but each other and making a new life for themselves and her son.
A fantasy, of course. But what a nice dream.
Leila looked up and caught Clint watching her, a shadow of stark need brooding in his gaze before he looked away. Cursing under his breath, he pushed away from the table and took his empty plate to the sink. The muscles between her shoulder blades knotted tighter, the frustration and want inside her brewing into a bubbling stew of irritation. It wasn’t rational, but to hell with it. He had no right to act like an ass. She was the one dealing with tremendous stress here.
She forced herself to finish the rest of her food while he futzed around at the sink then finally she stood and joined him at the counter, her annoyance over his behaviour and her strengthening awareness of him pushing her closer to the edge, pushing her to be more reckless. If he was looking for a fight tonight, she’d happily give him one. “You know, Clint,” she said, ready to hit all his buttons. “You’re not in the military anymore. Maybe it’s time to live a little. Stop being so fussy about your pristine space. Life’s meant to be lived. Sometimes that comes with a mess or two.”
Clint snorted. “Great. Yeah, please lecture me on how to live my life. Since you’re such an expert. Single, raising a kid on your own, with a crazy ex-con stalker on your tail. I know exactly how to live my life and what works for me. Don’t you dare come in here with your cute baby and your wild, colourful ways and try to change me. I don’t like change.”
Angry and hurt, she hip bumped him out of the way to rinse off her own dishes, not caring that she was being rude. He was being rude too, saying deliberately hurtful things. When she replied, her tone dripped with sarcasm, as did her fake smile. “For a guy who’s only thirty-five, you act like a stick-up-the-butt sixty-year-old.”
“Hey!” He turned and glare
d at her, his arms crossed and his muscles bulging, all but bristling with testosterone. The air between them seemed to sizzle with electricity. “Why should I listen to you? Your track record on reading people sucks.”
True, dammit. But boy was her radar going off about this situation. In the past, during arguments with Mike, she’d feared for her safety, knowing he wasn’t above dominating her with his fists when his words failed. But with Clint, she knew he’d never hurt her physically. She also recognized the signs of extreme need within herself. Much as she hated to admit it, she wanted him—more than she’d wanted another man in a long time, if ever. And it pissed her off. Or maybe that was passion. Hard to tell at his point.
“No. You know what truly sucks here?” she asked, shutting off the water and turning to face him, her index finger pointing at the centre of his chest. “The way you let your fear override the joy in your life. You keep your head down and your heart locked away, thinking that’s the best way to keep it safe, but in reality, all it does is make you a sad, lonely, miserable man.”
“And what about you, huh?” He moved closer, his breath ragged and his high cheekbones dotted with crimson. His blue eyes sparkled with restless energy and she felt and an answering tug within her, urging her to stand her ground, to take what she wanted from this man and screw the consequences.
It was insane. It was terribly unwise. It was the only thing she wanted in the universe at that moment.
Clint continued his tirade. “You think you’re being so safe, so careful. But what you’re really doing is isolating yourself from the people who could help you—the people who could care for you, if you’d let them inside. When it comes to letting people in, you’re no better than me. In fact, you’re just like me, even if you refuse to admit it. You’re scared. You’re so scared I can smell it on your skin, hear it in that little catch in your breath…”
They were so close now that she could see his pupils blown wide, obliterating the blue of his irises until just a tiny rim remained. The connection between them vibrated like a tuning fork sending wave after wave of awareness through her until she tingled all over. She should step back, she should walk away.
Instead, she moved closer still, ready to give in to her needs, give in to this crazy attraction between them. Ready to…
Buzz, buzz, buzz…
Her phone vibrated on the counter beside them where it was charging. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to jar her back to her senses. Clint too, it seemed, if the way he stalked off toward his bedroom was any indication. Good. Fine. She took a couple deep breaths before answering the call. Her mother’s face smiled back at her brightly from the caller ID on the screen.
“Hey, Mama,” Leila said, praying her voice sounded steadier than it felt. “How’s things?”
“Good, good.” Her mother proceeded to fill Leila in on all the happenings around Puerto Rico. Once she’d told her daughter all the latest gossip, and Leila was feeling much more relaxed than she had been earlier with Clint, Samantha Ortiz went in for the kill. “I think you should seriously consider moving down here, chica. I worry about you and Thomas up there all alone. What if that bastard ex of yours gets out of jail and comes looking for you? How will you protect yourself?”
Leila sighed. She’d not told her mom about Mike yet, nor was she planning to. Her mother had enough to worry about without adding her daughter and grandson to the list. And with Clint’s help, Leila would be able to protect herself and her son just fine. Though it would be nice to have family closer to help out when she needed it. Ugh. She sank down into a kitchen chair and rubbed her forehead where a headache was starting to form. For the first time, she seriously considered it. Leaving Vegas would get her away from Mike and away from her unwanted attraction to Clint. Plus, she could give Thomas a fresh start. At the moment, it sounded like not such a bad idea. But this wasn’t the time to make such a decision, not with the mix of adrenaline and sexual tension still thundering through her system.
“I’ll think about it, Mama,” she said, leaving it at that.
8
The next day, Clint was home, tidying up and trying to get his head straight from the night before. Leila had been right, of course. He had been acting like an ass. It was just that he felt torn and twisted and totally in lust with her with no idea how to handle it. Sure, he was no blushing virgin. That ship had sailed a long time ago. But he’d never been with a woman who appealed to him on as many levels as Leila did. He was frustrated, in more ways than one, and he’d lashed out at her.
Stupid move.
She was guarded, yes. But she was also smart and funny and kind and giving and she had good reason to keep her heart protected. And then there was Thomas. The kid was adorable beyond measure. Clint had always imagined he’d stay a loner for the rest of his days, never considering the possibility he’d ever want a family of his own. After what had happened with his own parents and upbringing, he’d figured it was for the best he stayed alone. But being around Leila and Thomas had him rethinking those long-held beliefs.
Maybe she was right. Maybe it was time for him to live a little.
First, he wanted to apologize to her. He’d do it just as soon as she got back from the grocery store. She’d insisted on going by herself, said she needed some space and time to think. She’d asked him to watch Thomas while she was gone. He’d reluctantly agreed, a bit more nervous about babysitting by himself than he cared to admit. It had been a long time since he’d been alone around a kid that young. Luckily, all the things he’d learned watching over his temporary siblings in foster care came back easily. Thomas was currently playing with Clint’s old rabbit in his play pen and looking extremely pleased with himself as he drooled all over its ears.
“Do you love that toy, buddy?” Clint said, leaning over the side of play pen to grin at the kid. “It was my favourite too. You’ve got good taste, Tommy.”
He’d just reached down to ruffle the toddler’s hair when the front door opened and Leila walked in, looking upset. His heart dropped to his toes as he rushed over to take the heavy bags from her arms. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
She shook her head, leaning out the door to scan the area before shutting it and locking it behind her. Leila leaned back against it and closed her eyes. “Mike’s gang found me. In the parking lot at the grocery store.”
Her breath hitched and Clint’s heart ached even as anger surged hot through his blood stream. Son of a bitch! If that fucker or his idiot friends harmed a single hair on Leila’s head, Clint would go full SEAL on their asses and make them regret the day they were born. They might be in a gang, but nobody messed with a SEAL or his loved ones. Nobody.
He set the bags on the kitchen counter then rushed back to her side, guiding her over to sit on the sofa then crouching in front of her. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were wide with fear. Clint reached up as gently as he could to tuck her loose hair behind her ear, hoping to soothe her. “Did they hurt you?”
She shook her head, staring across the room at her son. Thomas, at least, didn’t seem to pick up on his mother’s distress, still happily playing with his toys. “No,” Leila said, the word emerging weaker than he would’ve liked. “They just tried to scare me. Drove their car way too close, like they were going to run over me, then started calling me names. Whore, bitch, the usual.” She gave a sad little shrug and it took everything Clint had not to pull her into his arms. From her troubled expression, he sensed touching her now would not go over well. So, instead, he moved into the seat beside her on the sofa and waited for her to continue. “They threatened me. Said they’d find me, find Thomas, and kill us if I didn’t go back to Mike. Said they’d hunt you down too. Ruin your business. Run you out of town.”
His hackles rose. It would take more than a carload full of punks to make him leave Vegas. This was his home now.
“I’m sorry,” Leila said, sniffling. “I’m so, so sorry. I never should’ve gotten you involved in all this.” She wiped the ba
ck of her hand across her damp cheeks then sat back against the cushions to stare up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry about last night too. I’ve done nothing but invade your space and make things so much harder for you.”
“No.” He reached over and took her hand now, unable to resist any longer. “It’s me who should be sorry. I said awful things to you last night. Those words should never have left my mouth. I have no right to judge you. You’re a great mother and a great woman who’s dealing with horrific things with more dignity and honour than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“It doesn’t feel that way,” she said, turning her head slightly on the cushion to look at him. “Most days I feel like I’m barely holding on. Inside, I’m scared to death I’m going to screw everything up. I’m terrified that something will happen to Thomas… or to you.”
“To me?” He looked over at her, realizing now how close they actually were. Close enough for him to smell her spicy scent, to see the tiny gold flecks in her hazel eyes, to hear the hint of yearning in her tone. His body tightened in response and a different kind of longing filled him once more. To taste her, touch her, have her beneath him as he drove them both to the point of ecstasy. He tugged on her hand, drawing her closer. “Listen, I can take care of myself.” His gaze flickered from her eyes to her soft, pink lips before returning to her gaze. “I’ll take care of you too, if you’ll let me.”
Time seemed to slow as she closed the gap between them. “Will you? Take care of me?”
“Always,” he whispered before kissing her. She gasped at the contact and he took advantage, sweeping his tongue between her lips to taste her sweetness as he’d been wanting to do since that day at the gun range. She moaned low and his libido kicked a notch higher. He pulled back before he couldn’t anymore, grasping her hips to set her aside then standing and extending his hand. “Let’s take this to the bedroom, eh?”
Guarding the Single Mother: SEAL Endgame Book One Page 6