by Leslie North
He nodded but didn’t seem like he wanted to say more. Lily had a thousand more questions, but she kept them to herself. It was none of her business, she supposed, but she wondered about Colin. He was a man who kept himself under control, tightly leashed, but he loved Sofia. That had been obvious when she’d watched them interact the day before.
It seemed her employer was an interesting and complex man in more than one way.
“That’s it,” Lily declared a few minutes later. “Ready to load them in the elevator?”
He glanced around the room. She had surprisingly few possessions. Maybe that was part of finding herself, not wanting to get weighed down by belongings. Suited him fine. He’d spent enough years on missions that traveling light felt natural. Among the things he’d found hardest to get used to about having a daughter was the sheer amount of stuff involved.
They worked together in comfortable silence as they transferred the boxes to the elevator and then to their vehicles, drawn up to the building’s entrance. Most went to his truck, since her car was a tiny subcompact. The car, in its outlandish color, suited its owner. She wasn’t a wallflower, and she’d gotten him to talk about personal matters that he usually kept to himself. She was easy to be with, he realized.
If he’d met her two years earlier, he’d probably have asked her out. Back then, he wasn’t looking for a commitment of any kind, and his dates had been fun-loving, attractive women.
That was before he had a child to consider. He needed a different type of woman now, one who would be a good mother to his daughter and help him create a family.
From what Lily had said about being the oldest of eight, she’d seen plenty of family life and was eager to spread her own wings as an independent bird, not part of a flock. Good for her.
He slammed the tailgate of his truck and grinned when he saw her shoving a box onto the passenger seat of her car, her butt sticking out. He’d have definitely asked her out, because she had definitely caught his attention. He couldn’t decide if it was the dark-rimmed glasses that said sexy schoolteacher, or her quick smile and quicker laugh. He’d heard the latter plenty when they’d played outside the day before. They’d taken turns running alongside Sofia while she careened down the sidewalk on her trike. At one point, Lily had collapsed onto the grass in a fit of laughter when she and Sofia collided. He’d thought they were hurt at first, but the giggles and happy squeals told him differently.
Lily was going to be good for Sofia, who needed a female influence and someone who knew how to play. He didn’t think he was good at that, but he was trying to be a good father.
A shiver ran through Colin, making him stiffen. He had the distinct sensation that someone was watching him. He turned his gaze up toward the building. No one was visible in a window, and no one on the street seemed to be paying attention to them.
He’d had the same sense when they’d first come outside, but he’d written it off as people’s natural curiosity when someone was moving. He was no longer sure of that. Only a few people in the apartment building seemed to be at home. There had been those two guys in the hall when he’d arrived, though.
Lily had practically yanked him into her apartment to avoid them seeing her. What was up with that? Maybe Lily had had some kind of a relationship with one of them. If that was true, Colin would understand why they might be watching him. If he’d had something with Lily, he’d be giving other men the back-off look himself.
Lily hadn’t mentioned anything about either of the men. One Colin had never seen before, but the other… there was something vaguely familiar about him. Colin had the impression they’d met, but he couldn’t place the guy.
Probably nothing to worry about, he concluded, but he swept the area with his eyes, nevertheless. The slam of a car door brought his attention back to Lily. She was leaning against her yellow car, finished with her task.
“I’m afraid of what will fall out when I open the door.” She was smiling, her head tipped back in the winter sunshine. “Will you come back upstairs, and we’ll do a final check to make sure I didn’t miss anything?”
“Sure,” he agreed. She could easily manage that herself. What was her motivation for wanting him along? Was she worried about the guys across the hall? Or was she just being friendly?
He didn’t know, but he fell in step beside her. She brushed close against him as he held the door for her. A light, sweet fragrance drifted off her as she went past, making him aware again of her attractiveness. That was a feeling he was going to have to stanch.
4
Colin turned onto Silvan Street and chuckled at the butterfly stakes in front of his house. He’d had a similar reaction nearly every night on his trip home. He saw Lily’s point. The houses on the street were alike, but they were all family homes, and that’s what he’d liked about the neighborhood. Nearly every house on the street had kids, and it was nothing unusual to see children playing catch or basketball, riding bikes or scooters.
That was the kind of place he wanted to raise his daughter. Her childhood would be safe, protected from the nastiness of the world. He’d seen plenty of bad things, both as a SEAL and long before with his own mother and father. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck as he pulled into the driveway. Having a child made him think too often of his parents’ failures. He and Zach talked about it a lot, about how they wanted to be better parents. Zach was ahead of him by being married and giving his son that stability.
Colin wanted the same for his daughter. Kids needed a loving dual-parent home, and they should never worry that their mom would leave for the grocery store and not come back as his had done or that their father would settle things with his fists while in a drunken rage.
No way in hell was Sofia ever going to be exposed to that kind of life. He knew what he wanted for her. A mother, a nice home, family outings, game nights, holiday traditions. The picture-perfect existence his friend Ned had when they were kids. Ned’s family had barbeques in the backyard, annual vacations, and civil conversations.
That wasn’t too much to ask, and it was up to him to make it happen. He shut off his truck in the garage and grabbed his briefcase, thankful that Lily had cared for Sofia while he put in a fourteen-hour day. He’d missed bedtime, missed reading Sofia a story, but having a nanny was better than what used to happen on such nights when Carolyn or Zach or even Carolyn’s mother had watched Sofia for him. He’d still missed the entire day with her, but at least she’d fallen asleep in her own bed.
He pushed open the door to the kitchen. Lily sat on a stool at the island, eating from a takeout container. Two thoughts hit him simultaneously. One, he liked coming home to someone. Lily had been with them for three weeks, and he was glad she was around. And two, whatever she was eating smelled great.
“I hoped you’d be home soon,” she said.
“Something wrong?” Tension shot through him. Was Sofia sick? He dismissed the thought as quickly as it had hit him. Lily was far too relaxed for that to be the case.
“Not at all.” She smiled and pointed to a brown bag on the island next to her. “I got you dinner. Lasagna, breadsticks, and a salad. Come eat.”
He put his briefcase down and readily joined her. “Can’t thank you enough.” He popped the lid open on the meal and inhaled. Lunch had been a quick sandwich hours ago—he was famished.
“Good day?” he asked after taking a few bites of the cheesy lasagna.
“Fine,” she answered as she broke a breadstick in half. “It was warm enough that we could take a walk to the park and spend the morning there. I think she went down the slide a million times.”
“She likes that,” he said with a chuckle and pang of regret. He’d like to have been there with them. “Thanks again for the food. You didn’t have to.”
“It’s no trouble.” She swirled the breadstick in a container of marinara sauce.
“You know you’re welcome to anything in the kitchen.” He’d made that offer several times since she’d moved in. They w
ere comfortable living in the same house. He hadn’t expected it to be so easy, and he hoped she felt the same way.
“You’ve told me.”
“But I haven’t noticed you taking much,” he said. She cooked simple meals for Sofia, but she’d hardly put a dent in the food he had stored in the pantry and refrigerator.
“I cooked so much as a kid that it doesn’t have much appeal for me. I have five brothers, and someone was always hungry.”
“Five? Dang, that’s a lot.” He was starting to understand her need to be her own person. He and his brothers had banded together to survive. They’d looked out for each other, but he hadn’t been made to care for them.
“Yeah. Plus, I’m a decent cook, but a messy one. Counters, floor, you name it, food will be stuck to it when I’m done.” She tilted her head toward the white appliances, cabinets, and counters. “Your kitchen is a little too perfect for me. I’m afraid I’ll stain something.”
“Stains can always be scrubbed out,” he said.
She raised an eyebrow at him, the perfect arch showing over the rim of her glasses. Some days she didn’t wear them, so he suspected she had contacts as well. He liked how the glasses looked on her. They set off her features, especially when her thick, dark hair was down as it was then. One curl brushed her shoulder, making his fingers itch to touch it. He’d had similar thoughts more than once in the past weeks, but he’d ruthlessly controlled them.
“Are you telling me you wouldn’t freak out if you came home and found cake batter splattered in the oven or grape juice oozing from the refrigerator?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Okay, I admit I’m a neat freak, but I’ve got an arsenal of cleaning products. Feel free to make a mess.” He kept his response light, but she had a point, and it was clear she was enjoying creating images that would bother him. He liked that she teased him, but he wanted to prove that he wasn’t that uptight.
Her lips curved up. “You went pale and broke out in a sweat when I suggested that Sofia might like some art supplies. I’m guessing that your analytical brain considered every possible stain, blob, and mark, as well as how to combat them, within thirty seconds. Am I right?”
“Maybe.” He’d had thoughts similar to the ones she described, but he’d bought the items she’d requested anyway. Partly because he thought Sofia would like them and partly because his nanny had a way of asking that was tough to refuse.
“I was shocked you agreed. Tell me…” She dropped her voice low, and it took on a seductive edge. “Did going to the art supply store give you anxiety?”
“It was terrifying,” he said, playing along with her and enjoying the flirtation. “All that color and clutter.”
“Did you organize anything while you were there?” she asked.
He bit his lip. He had rearranged some paints that were in the wrong bins while he made his selections.
“You did.” Her laugh rang out, taking any sting out of her accusation. “Oh, that’s funny. I’d like to have seen that.”
“Is Sofia enjoying the stuff I bought?” He’d gladly risk stains and blobs if it made his daughter happy.
“She is. We’ve been focusing on identifying shapes and colors, but the watercolors come out next.”
He contained the shiver that went through him at the thought, but he was also glad he’d hired the woman next to him. She was bringing Sofia joy and teaching her at the same time. Not many people could do that. He was lucky to have found her, even if it was temporary.
“Thanks for what you’re doing with Sofia.” He was grateful every evening when he came home and found Sofia gleefully playing or contentedly asleep.
“That’s the job,” Lily said. “And she’s such a delight to be around that I don’t feel like I’m working. You’re lucky.”
“I know.” He felt his luck. Fatherhood wasn’t something he’d expected, not yet at least. He’d thought down the road he’d meet the right woman and they’d have kids, have that perfect family. He didn’t want to shortchange Sofia just because the circumstances were different.
“Can I ask a question?” She eyed him.
“Sure,” he said, unable to tell what direction her thoughts were taking.
“I’m curious about the display case in the living room with the decks of cards.” She propped her elbow on the island and turned toward him, resting her hand against the side of her face. “You don’t seem like a gambler or a collector, although some of the decks look old. My guess is that they mean something special to you.”
“They do,” he answered. “I’m a card player of sorts.”
“Really? What’s your game?”
“Bridge.” What his brothers had termed “the complicated old-fashioned game.”
“Unusual choice for our generation. My parents and grandparents play, of course.”
“Yeah. I have to go to the senior center to find partners.” The seniors always found it amusing when he showed up to their card nights. He hadn’t had as much time to do that since Sofia came into his life.
“There must be a story behind your love for the game,” she said. “Will you tell me?”
He considered saying no or brushing her off with a promise of telling her later, but something about her put him at ease. “I’ve told you about my brothers,” he began. “They’re good men.”
“Like you,” she interrupted softly.
“Thanks.” He accepted her words, feeling a little thrill at the unexpected compliment. “But our parents were shit. Mom left when I was six. Dad wasn’t a man who should have had children. Zach, Alex, and I survived by sticking together. By the time we were in our early teens, we were headed down the wrong road. Fortunately, a teens-at-risk program connected us with a retired admiral, Peter Anderson. He took us in, became our foster father, and through one hell of a lot of work and love on his part, turned us around.”
“Sounds like a wonderful man,” she commented.
“He was. He died five years ago, but he lived long enough to see us all find success in the service and in life.”
“So he’s the one who should be proud of you and your brothers?” she asked.
He recalled her comment about his parents being proud to have three sons who were SEALs. They had made the admiral proud, and Colin thought of him every day. “Right.”
“And he taught you to play bridge?”
“Yeah. He gauged our personalities and found a way to give each of us something special.” As a teen, Colin had pretended to his brothers that he didn’t like the game. In truth, he’d loved it. He liked the process of playing and winning, but he loved spending time with the admiral and his old cronies.
“Bridge requires attention to detail and analytical skills,” she commented. “I can see why he chose that for you. I’m guessing those are his decks, then.”
“Some of them. Others I’ve picked up here and there in my travels. It’s kind of my way of honoring his memory.” He’d never expressed that to anyone before. His brothers were aware of it, but he hadn’t needed to explain to them his desire to maintain that connection with the admiral.
“That’s really sweet. Thank you for sharing the story with me.” Her eyes were on him, and he expected to feel exposed, but he didn’t. He met her gaze, and a beat of heated silence passed.
How easy would it be to lean in and kiss her? As that thought crossed his mind, she slid off her stool and gathered up the remains of her dinner. Had she sensed what he had? He didn’t dare ask.
“Good night,” he said, feeling he should return to their business relationship. “I’ll be leaving early in the morning again, so you’ll have to get Sofia up.”
“Of course,” she said. “Good night.” She went out the back door, and a moment later he heard her enter her apartment.
As he cleaned up the kitchen, he wondered if he’d made a mistake by sharing so much with her about his life. But she was a friend of sorts, at least for whatever span of time she was going to stick around.
5
&
nbsp; “Your order will be up in five minutes, hon,” the waitress called to Colin where he stood at the counter of a little diner not far from his house.
“Thanks.” He took a seat on a stool and accepted the cup of coffee the waitress put in front of him. It had been another long day. He’d had plenty of those in the past few weeks, but they had an unexpected silver lining: he’d share his dinner with Lily, as he had on other late nights since the one when he’d told her about the admiral.
Most of their conversations weren’t so personal. By tacit agreement they’d stuck to talking about Sofia and more general topics, but he was getting to know Lily better. Like that night: he’d called to see what she wanted from the diner, but he’d accurately predicted her order. Salad with grilled chicken and a piece of lemon meringue pie. She always got dessert, which he teased her about but usually joined her in.
They’d both come to treat their dinners as a casual friend kind of thing, although he tried to pick up the tab for both of them. She was working for him to make money to fund her new life. He didn’t want her spending that cash on buying him dinner.
The waitress went past him, holding up two fingers to indicate his order was almost done. He drained the coffee mug and took a look around the diner. It was fairly busy with couples and families stopping in for a quick meal before going home. The back booth was occupied by just one guy. His head was turned to look out the window as though he was waiting for someone. Colin studied the man, recognition dawning.
He was one of the men in the hallway of Lily’s apartment building. It had been almost six weeks since Colin had helped her move, but he remembered the two men distinctly because of both Lily’s reaction to them and the fact that one of them had seemed familiar to him. The guy in the booth was the one Colin could have sworn he knew, but just like then, he couldn’t put a name to the man or remember where he’d seen him before.