Protecting His Pregnant Lover (Southern Soldiers of Fortune Book 1)

by Leslie North

  “Couldn’t the police have investigated it themselves?” Olive asked.

  “Sure—and they definitely are. I’m working in close collaboration with the local police force here. But for some parts of the investigation, especially when it branches out into small towns, it’s better to have someone involved who’s not known to be affiliated with the local force. The Reapers recruit a lot of local teens into their operations, and in a place this size, the locals will know the names and faces of all the cops. When two of my teammates, Noah and Clint, discovered the link to Harper’s Forge, I stepped in and requested to be the one sent down here to see what was up. Figured I had insider knowledge of the town that might help speed things along.”

  “Wow.” Olive’s hands shook slightly as she set her cup aside, and Levon’s pulse stuttered. Shit. He’d not meant to upset her. “That’s scary to think those kinds of things might start happening here in our little town. I mean, God. Half the people in Harper’s Forge don’t even lock their doors at night. We have four police officers and two squad cars. If gangs come into this place, how are we even going to cope with that?” Her face had turned pale and Levon didn’t like where this was going at all. “What about my students? What about the high school?” Dots of bright crimson blossomed on her cheeks. “Just thinking about those jerks luring or bullying my kids into doing their dirty work for them…” She pushed to her feet, then swayed unsteadily, her leg bumping the table and sending her mug toppling to the floor. Tea splattered across his hardwood, but the only thing Levon cared about was Olive and the fact she was about to pass out right in front of him.

  “Fuck!” He was on his feet and had her in his arms the second her knees buckled, pulling her close into the safety of his chest. Even seven months pregnant, she seemed to weigh less than nothing to him. “Liv? Honey, are you okay?”

  Her dark eyes seemed too big for her face as she blinked up at him from behind her crooked glasses. Raw panic tore him to shreds inside. He hated being uncertain, being out of control. Not to mention the guilt. This was his fault. Dammit. He’d been back in her life less than a day and already he was screwing shit up again.

  “I’m all right,” she said after a moment, her voice far too weak for his liking. His concern must have shown on his face, because a moment later she was reaching up to pat his cheek, giving him a wan smile. “Really, Levon, it’s all right. I started getting dizzy spells as soon as I hit my second trimester. It’s one symptom I haven’t been able to shake.”

  “What can I do?” Anything, he’d do anything for her. For their baby. Wage war, whatever she needed.

  “Unfortunately, there isn’t much anyone can do. Honestly.” Olive squirmed in his hold, trying to free herself, but Levon held fast. She might not like being carried like this, but he wasn’t putting her down until he knew she was safe. Without asking, he took her down the hall and into the bedroom where he’d put her bags earlier, depositing her gently on the mattress.

  “You look worn out—you should rest,” he said, stepping back.

  Olive frowned up at him, opened her mouth like she was going to protest, then snapped it shut again. After a while, she said, “Look, I appreciate your concern, but I don’t need you worrying about me. These dizzy spells come on when I’m overtired, overworked, or overemotional—and right now, after the day I’ve had, I’m all three. I’m fine. Really. So is the baby. Please, don’t go thinking I can’t handle this on my own, because I’ve been doing just fine until you got here.”

  Levon hid his wince at that, barely. She was right, of course. She’d gotten through almost all of this pregnancy without any help from him whatsoever. If he hadn’t volunteered for this mission, he might never have known about their baby. But now that he did, he couldn’t just walk away from his responsibilities, especially when she might be involved in his case. Protecting her was now part of his job—at least that was how Levon saw it. “I know you can handle this on your own, Olive. You’re one of the strongest, smartest people I’ve ever known.”

  Pink returned to her cheeks and he had to stop himself from reaching up to stroke her skin, to see if it was as velvet-soft as he remembered. This wasn’t the time or the place. Instead, he reached into her bag and pulled out a pair of PJs covered with planets and galaxies and some science professor-looking guy. Only Olive. Levon shook his head and chuckled as he tossed them to her. “Nice pajamas. Who’s that? Bill Nye the Science Guy? Put these on and get ready for bed before you drop again from exhaustion. We can talk more in the morning.”

  She caught the clothes in one hand and shook her head. “It’s Carl Sagan, from Cosmos.” At his blank look, she sighed. “You’re being a mother hen.”

  “Olive.” He gave her a serious look, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “I want you to do me a favor and stop taking this all so lightly.”

  Olive frowned down at her PJs. “I’m not taking it lightly. I’m just trying to process it all. This isn’t what I deal with every day, like you. Cut me some slack. I’m doing my best here.”

  “So am I.” He took a deep breath, scowling down at his hands. “And dealing with assholes like the Reapers isn’t my usual MO either. I’m used to terrorists and snipers and the occasional warlord. But these guys—the Reapers…I don’t want you thinking that just because they’re a home-grown threat that they’re not dangerous. They’re deadly, believe me. And they don’t just murder the people who cross or betray them. They torture them. The threats they’re making against you now aren’t idle.”

  Olive swallowed hard, her fingers clutching the clothes in her hands closer to her abdomen, like a shield. “So when I go home tomorrow, I’ll have a new security system installed. I’ll—”

  “You’re staying with me until this case is closed,” Levon interrupted. “That’s non-negotiable.”

  Olive sat up abruptly. “I can’t!”

  “Why can’t you?”

  She wanted to argue again, he could tell from the glint of determination in her eyes. But then he could also see the invisible wheels turning in her head as she quickly worked out that he was right. Finally, those stiff shoulders of hers slumped. “Fine. You’re right. If the Reapers are as scary as you say, then I do need a safer living situation.” She looked around the room. “But that doesn’t mean I have to stay here. There’s only one bed!”

  “What’s wrong? My California king not spacious enough for you?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “That’s not what I meant at all,” Olive grumbled. “Don’t be obtuse.”

  “Obtuse? Lord, I’m going to have to dig out my dictionary again, aren’t I?” Levon shook his head and stood. “We can go back to your place tomorrow and pack up more of your stuff.”

  “You’re going with me to protect me,” she said. “And I don’t believe for a second you don’t know what ‘obtuse’ means.”

  Levon smiled and she grumbled under her breath, crawling out of bed to head into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. He stayed where he was, sorting through the texts and emails on his phone until she returned, looking far too adorable in those flannel PJs. When she sidled past him again to slide beneath the covers, she smelled like flowers and minty toothpaste. His gut tightened, wanting nothing more than to strip off his clothes and join her in bed, but that wouldn’t help anything at the moment. Reluctantly, he stood and started toward the door.

  He made it halfway before she called out softly behind him, “Levon?”

  Hearing his name on her lips again quivered inside him, shaking him to his core. Without thought, he headed back to the bedside to her, reaching down to tuck her hair behind her ear before he could stop himself. “What is it, sweetheart?”

  She caught his wrist and heat and awareness sizzled through his skin, jolting his nerve endings. “Will you stay with me? Until I fall asleep.”

  “Whatever you want,” he said, the words gruff to his own ears. His throat felt tight with a wave of emotions—need, want, wariness, joy. Levon sat on the edge of the bed again and
watched while Olive snuggled under the covers, pulling the blanket up to her chin. Her eyelids gradually sank lower and lower until they closed.

  Levon waited until her breath evened out into the patterns of sleep, then couldn’t resist resting his hand on her baby bump one more time, lost in thought, lost in the strange, alien sensation of cradling a life that had yet to be born.

  My baby. Our baby. My world.

  6

  The ominous fog that had clung to the high school grounds all day Thursday had burned off without a trace by the time Olive and Levon arrived at her house early Friday morning.

  “See, Olive? Everything looks more manageable in daylight,” she muttered under her breath as she climbed out of the truck and shut the door. He’d suggested waiting to come until after she was done teaching for the day, but she’d forgotten some test last night and besides, she just wanted to get this over with, since he was barely allowing her to breathe on her own, let alone drive to work by herself.

  She straightened her black maternity dress and glanced at herself in the truck’s side mirror as she passed. She’d pulled her curly hair back into a ponytail this morning and put on a touch of makeup. Usually she liked to look perfect for her day, but perfect had fallen by the wayside now, along with everything else, in the wake of Levon’s arrival back in her life.

  “Come on,” she said, gesturing impatiently to him to follow her. “I don’t want to be late for classes and I’ve got a lot of stuff to get. Besides, I don’t need the neighbors gossiping about me bringing strange men home after a night on the town.”

  He got out of the truck and followed her up the sidewalk to her porch, scanning the area for anything suspicious. They’d been in and out so quickly last night that she’d barely had time to worry about the messy state of her place, but now he’d get an eyeful.

  She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and unlocked the front door, clicking on the lights to reveal a melange of baby gear in various stages of being put together, everything from a crib, to a playpen, to a funny mobile she’d bought that had space ships and the solar system on it. There were toys she’d received as gifts from her students and her relatives, and stacks of clothes, some still in the packages, she’d gotten from the staff at the high school when they’d thrown her a shower last month. The chaos in the room perfectly reflected the chaos she felt inside. Getting ready for a baby was a lot more work than she’d ever imagined.

  “Wow, this place is…” Levon stared at a pile of wooden parts that would someday, hopefully, be a high chair. “Looks like you’ve got a lot of stuff for the kid already.”

  “You have no idea,” she said, shutting the door behind him, then heading down the hall to her home office to grab the tests and her briefcase. “Make yourself at home while I pack up some more things, then we can go. There’s stuff to make tea in the kitchen, if you want it.”

  After packing up the stuff she needed from her office, she went across the hall of her little bungalow to grab more clothes and items she’d need for an extended stay at Levon’s place. She still wasn’t completely sold on the idea, but until she thought of something better, Olive didn’t have much choice but to go along with it. Truthfully, the note last night and the news he’d shared with her about the dangerous gang that was infiltrating her peaceful, safe little hometown had her more than a little unsettled. The same uncomfortable niggle of vulnerability she used to get in her stomach when the school bullies trapped her behind the building after classes had returned, burrowing deep into the tender area between her shoulder blades. Once she’d graduated high school, she’d sworn she’d never allow anyone to make her feel that way again. Yet here she was, right back where she’d never wanted to be—with the one man she’d never expected back in her life, at her side.

  To find out she was carrying Levon’s baby after their one night together had been shocking enough. To have him show up again after seven months and swoop in like a superhero to her defence was…

  Olive jammed more clean undies and socks and work clothes, plus bathroom essentials, into a wheeled suitcase. Well, she still hadn’t decided exactly how his reappearance made her feel, but thrilled wasn’t it. She was happy to see him, sure. Happy he was back stateside and safe after finishing his commitment to the Navy. But she hadn’t really given much thought to co-parenting with him. During their night together, he’d been clear he was leaving on another mission, then perhaps taking that job in Arlington, so Olive had only ever considered single parenting. Now, the possibility of sharing her baby, her life, with Levon left her confused and anxious.

  Done packing, she sighed and turned off the lights in her bedroom, the handle of her suitcase in one hand and her briefcase in the other, before heading back down the hall to the living room. She stopped at the end of the hall and stared across the room to where he stood, studying her wall of family pictures from when she was growing up. It felt weirdly intimate to have him here in her house. Way more intimate even than the night they’d shared together months earlier.

  When he didn’t turn around right away, she cleared her throat, suddenly anxious to get him out of her place. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

  Levon turned slightly to look at her over his shoulder. “Your parents still around Harper’s Forge?”

  She swallowed hard and wheeled her suitcase over to leave it by the door, then set her briefcase down beside it before joining him in front of the pictures. He was looking at one from when she was around ten, taken in the backyard of the very house they were standing in now, her and her parents, all smiling and happy on Easter Sunday. “No. They travel the world now, working for a charity organization. I think they’re in Africa somewhere right now. Zimbabwe maybe?”

  “Huh.” He moved on to the next photo, this one of just Olive, the day she and her other nerd friends had won the Mathlete competition in eighth grade. “You were always smart, weren’t you?”

  Olive shrugged. “I guess so. I mean, it’s just how my brain works. I never really thought about it.” She glanced at his profile, aquiline nose, strong jaw, long lashes most women would kill for, and couldn’t help wondering if their baby would take after him and win in the gorgeousness lottery. “Kind of like how your brain works around your dyslexia, right? It’s just a part of you, who you are. You probably don’t think about that either.”

  “Hmm.” The corners of his full lips turned down slightly. “Maybe. I’m used to it, I guess, but I still think about my dyslexia pretty much every day. Whenever I have to do something involving a lot of numbers or heavy reading. That’s why I’m such a slow reader. I have to be careful that I don’t skip words or sentences because then nothing makes sense. And transposing numbers in math will always be an issue for me.” He took a deep breath and faced her. “Thanks, though.”

  “For what?” Her brows knit.

  “For helping me, back when we were in school. If it wasn’t for you tutoring me and helping me find ways to learn better, I would’ve probably gone my whole life thinking I was dumb. You made me believe I could be more, do more. It’s because of you that I got into the Navy.”

  His words made her heart ache and dance for joy at the same time. The drive to help people was why she’d gone into teaching, but to hear she’d made that much of a difference in his life early on meant more to Olive than she could say. “I’m glad I could help.”

  Levon’s gaze flickered to her lips, and her mouth tingled from the contact like a physical caress. Soon those butterflies inside her were fluttering for a whole different reason than joy. Then he looked away and she let out her pent-up breath. Lord help her, they’d only been back in each other’s lives for a few days and already she was back to drooling over him again. She’d even dreamed about him last night—the way he looked, the way he smelled like soap and fabric softener and warm clean male, the way he tasted when he kissed her.

  She had it bad for Levon Asher and that wasn’t good.

  Rather than give in to her nearly overwhelming urge t
o burrow into his strong, muscled chest and stay there a good long time, she turned back toward the kitchen again. “Sure you don’t want that tea before we go?” She checked her watch. “Last chance before I need to get to school.”

  “No, I’m good, thanks.” Instead of following her, he walked over to the other side of the living room and began going through the pile of parts that she still needed to assemble into a crib. “But if we have a little time before we need to go, I could help you get some of these things together.”

  “Uh, sure,” she said, filling the kettle and putting it on the stove, more to have something to do than because she wanted tea. Having him in her space was strange, but she was in no hurry to leave and have him drive her to work. People were bound to notice it if Levon Asher was suddenly giving her rides to the school. It probably would have been better if they’d kept their distance from one another during the day, but he’d refused to let her drive over here by herself this morning and she’d been too flustered to say no. Now, she couldn’t help wondering if it hadn’t been a mistake.

  While she waited for the water to boil, she checked her appearance in the shiny reflection on her stainless-steel toaster again. Maybe she should have tried harder this morning. Then the baby somersaulted inside her, jamming what must have been a tiny foot or elbow straight into her stomach, and she feared she might toss her cookies in the sink. She leaned away and rubbed her belly. No. Whatever she looked like today, as long as she was clean and dressed, was fine. Besides, she didn’t think her first student would mind seeing her in a state of slight disarray. They met three out of five mornings before class during the week, and he had seen her looking far worse: her hair unbrushed, her brain under-caffeinated. Hell, he had even held her hair once through a surprisingly violent bout of morning sickness… although they had both agreed it was better they never mention that particularly revolting episode ever again.