by Katie Knight
Then there was his older sister, Tamsyn, and her perfect husband and her perfect life. They had kids and a house in the suburbs and a fluffy, yippy white dog. His sister’s life was so far from Trevor’s own current reality he wondered sometimes if they even lived in the same universe, let alone belonged to the same family.
Still, he loved them all, even if he felt like the world’s biggest disappointment at the moment.
Never one to be a coward, Trevor steeled his guard, got his duffel from the trunk of the car, then walked up the front walkway to the door.
For better or worse, he was here now, and he needed to face the consequences.
His mother yanked open the door and pulled her son into a big bear hug. “Thank God you’re home. I’ve missed you so much.”
“I missed you too, Mom,” he said, hugging her back, swallowing hard against the sudden lump in his throat. No matter how old he got, or how jaded, a man would always love his momma. She pulled back at last and cupped his cheeks. “You’re too thin. Good thing you’re here so I can fatten you up.”
Trevor dropped his bag by the front door, then moved farther into the living room and spotted Tim leaning against the wall. He was currently stationed in Annapolis and was wearing his dress whites tonight. He gave his older brother a curt nod, his gaze saying they had a lot to discuss when they were alone. They shared an awkward bro hug and back slap before Tim whispered low, “Gossip’s getting around, Trev. Trouble’s brewing. What happened? Did a fight get out of hand or something? I know how you are when your temper’s riled.”
He pulled back and met his brother’s narrowed gaze. Tim’s expression hovered between affectionate and accusatory. Trevor shook his head, his words quiet. “Nah, man. You know me better than that. I didn’t kill my captain.”
“I thought I knew you, bro. Now, I’m not so sure.” Tim exhaled slow. “You got someone on your side?”
“I think so.” Trevor shook his head. “I hope so. I stopped and saw Maria first, before I came here.”
“Ah. Right.” Tim lowered his gaze, but not before Trevor saw the flicker of pity there. Yeah, his family knew about that deal too. Just then, their mom bustled in with food to set on the table. Tim stepped back. “We’ll talk more later, bro. You should say hi to Dad.”
His father was seated at the table, looking about the same as Trevor remembered. He’d been paroled shortly before Trevor had left for his first stint in the SEALs. Prison had aged the guy before his time, even though white-collar prisons were much more lenient than the high-security ones. There was a haunted look to his father’s blue eyes that hadn’t been there when Trevor was a kid, a world-weariness that most likely came from the burden of guilt his dad carried inside him after his conviction. He’d begged for his family’s forgiveness more times than Trevor could count, and though they’d granted it without question, the relationship between Trevor and his father had been tarnished beyond repair. He and his dad had sat down one night before Trevor had been deployed overseas and Trevor remembered that conversation like it was yesterday.
“Don’t carry the sins of the world on your shoulders, son,” his father had said that night. “You can’t fix all the wrongs. People have to take responsibility for themselves and their actions. I’ve done that. Someday you’ll have to do that too. I know you will. Until then, don’t get so busy chasing justice that you forget to live.”
Standing in the dining room of the family home, holding a beer in one hand and his tattered honor in the other, Trevor had never felt more like his old man. He exchanged an awkward greeting and an even more awkward hug with his father before taking his usual seat at the dinner table next to Tim, Tamsyn and her husband on the other side, his mother at the other end of the table, across from his dad.
Knowing there was no sense in waiting any longer, Trevor took a deep breath and explained the situation—the few details he could share about the mission gone wrong, the sudden death of his captain, the questions he’d faced upon his return, his fears that he was going to be charged with murder. In the awkward silence after he was done, he read their faces anxiously, wondering if they’d believe his claims of innocence. His mother believed him—he could tell. His father also seemed certain, as did his sister. But Tim still seemed unconvinced, as did Tamsyn’s husband. Trevor’s stomach sank. If his own family didn’t believe him, how could he expect anyone else to?
“What are you going to do to clear your name?” Tamsyn asked, in true older sister fashion, pulling no punches. “How are you going to fight this?”
“Tam, stop it,” his mother chided. “Give the poor guy a break. This only just happened—I’m sure he’s still processing.”
“It’s fine, Mom,” he said around a mouthful of mashed potatoes he didn’t taste. He could’ve been eating cardboard for all he knew. He was too stressed to enjoy the meal now anyway, no matter how good. “She’s right. I need to take action right away—I don’t have any time to waste. I actually told Tim I stopped at Maria’s house first before I came here tonight. I’m asking for her help with my side of the investigation.”
“Really?” Tamsyn gave him a speculative glance. “You don’t think that will be weird? With your history and all?”
In truth, it would probably be awkward as ass, but he didn’t need his family to know about it.
After he’d made the deal with Maria, he’d felt obligated to tell his family. Honestly, in a town the size of Little Creek, sooner or later one of them was bound to figure out there was a small kid running around town who looked a whole lot like them. He’d figured it was best to come clean and explain his side of things before the local rumor mill started churning. They knew everything, including his agreement to stay out of their child’s and Maria’s life once she got pregnant. They had to know—because he’d promised on their behalf, too, that they wouldn’t bother Maria, or try to push their way into her life or the baby’s. She wanted this child to herself without any interference from him or his family, and he’d agreed to her terms. He’d been on his way to Afghanistan at the time and didn’t think it would be a problem. Now it seemed otherwise.
“No. We’re fine with it. She’s the best investigator I know. There’s no one I trust more to help me get to the bottom of this. There’s no reason why our past needs to muddy the waters. We had a contract and we both handled our parts of it. As soon as this situation is over, I’ll go back to giving her the space she wants. Don’t worry about it, all right?” He put down his fork, the silverware clattering loud on his plate. “I’ll handle things. I’ve got it under control.”
“Yeah, because that’s not what I’m hearing on my end, bro,” Tim chimed in, keeping his focus on his plate. “You’ve got some big brass gunning for your ass at the Pentagon. You’d best hope Maria’s skills as a PI live up to her reputation. If you say that you didn’t have anything to do with that captain’s death then I believe you, but someone really wants to pin it on you, Trev.”
Shit. Just shit.
He pushed back from the table and tossed his napkin beside his plate. “I think I’m just going to go up to bed, if that’s okay. I’m beat. It’s been a long day and I need to be up early tomorrow.” He walked around the table to give his mother a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for the dinner and the welcome home. All this will make great leftovers tomorrow. See you in the morning.”
As he made his way upstairs, Trevor made himself a solemn vow that once all this mess was done, he was going to take a nice long vacation.
4
Maria was up early the next morning, like she was every day. Camille’s feeding schedule had settled into an every-four-hour deal, which meant Maria was up and down all night long. She’d learned to sleep when she could. Power naps were a new single mom’s best friend.
So far this morning, she’d managed to shower, dress, and make a pot of coffee while her baby napped. Thank goodness too, since Trevor was knocking on her door again promptly at eight. In truth, she’d still not come to a decision about help
ing him. She’d not had much time to think about the fact he was home at all, given that Camille had woken up fussy last night and had demanded to be rocked until the wee hours. All in all, it was probably good Maria hadn’t thought too hard about Trevor Daniels’ sudden reappearance in her life. Because if she had, she’d be freaking out right about now.
Trevor had been around for as long as Maria could remember, and she’d loved him for just about as long. She’d been a shy kid, preferring books to parties. And with her mom trying to shape her into the perfect Southern Belle, forcing her to act “like a lady” from the time she was six years old, she really hadn’t had much in common with the other kids. They’d made fun of her. Trevor, though, had never once commented on her frou-frou outfits or her fussy hair. He’d never mocked her because she was quiet.
When she’d been younger, she used to fantasize about him being her knight in shining armor. Later, when he’d played football and she’d been president of the calculus club, she’d tutored him in math and he’d helped her pass gym class. They’d never been exactly friends in school, but they’d never been enemies either. Their families knew each other—whose didn’t in Little Creek? And when her parents had gone ballistic over Maria’s decision to join the police academy instead of following in her father’s footsteps and going to law school, Trevor had applauded her decision. Then he’d gone off and joined the Navy and she’d become a cop.
Years passed, and she left the police force to open her own PI business. At that point, she hadn’t seen Trevor since high school graduation but had heard through the grapevine that he’d become a SEAL, and had been happy for him.
Then they’d bumped into each other one night after he’d come home on leave last year. She’d been stunned to find the guy who’d defended her in high school was now a certified, straight-up hottie. Single too, as his sister had been quick to tell her.
Not that she’d been looking for a relationship. She’d been too focused on her career at that point.
But her biological clock had been ticking for a while, and when the idea of having a baby had occurred to her, then solidified into a true desire, she’d looked no further than Trevor Daniels. She knew his family, knew he came from good genes, knew he had a brave and kind heart.
He’d make the perfect baby daddy.
Of course, he’d balked at the idea at first, especially since he’d be leaving again soon on deployment, which meant they’d have to conceive the old-fashioned way, with neither of them having the time or money for IVF.
In the end, though, Maria had put all those lawyerly skills she’d learned from her father to good use and persuaded him with her best argument—no strings attached. All he had to do was give her a baby then she’d give him his freedom. A good deal all around.
She’d never expected him to reappear, or for him to affect her as much as he had last night.
Maybe it was her hormones, still out of whack from the pregnancy, that had made her want to tackle him to the floor and smother him with kisses, to hold him until that sad look disappeared from his gorgeous blue eyes, to show him the beautiful daughter they’d made together.
Praise the Lord those feelings were under control this morning.
She ran a hand over her hair to make sure it was still behaving in its ponytail, then pulled the door open before he could knock a second time. Camille was still sleeping, and Maria hoped to keep it that way for a while.
“Good morning,” she said, her voice low. “The baby’s sleeping, so please keep it down.”
Trevor nodded and brushed past her on his way through the door. Her skin tingled from the brief contact, and when she inhaled, she caught the good Trevor smell she remembered—soap and citrus and warm, clean male. He looked about as exhausted as she felt, shadows marring the skin beneath his eyes, but otherwise, he was still as handsome as always. Dark hair, a bit shaggy as it grew out of his buzz cut, sky blue eyes that reminded her of warm Caribbean waters, tanned skin, sleek, toned muscles, long legs, a good foot taller than her own 5’4”. Yep. He was a stud all right. Her house suddenly seemed smaller with him in it.
“Uh, can I get you some coffee or water?” she asked, moving into the open kitchen. “I might have some tea too.”
“Coffee’s fine,” he said, taking a seat on the couch.
One of the good things to come out of her restless night was the fact she’d managed to get all the onesies folded and put away and the living room cleaned during a brief respite from Camille’s crying. She fixed them both a mug of coffee, took them into the living room, then set them on the coffee table, along with a sugar bowl and a ceramic cow full of milk. She wasn’t sure how he took his coffee.
She took a seat on the opposite end of the sofa from him again and settled back into the corner, tucking her legs beneath her. “So, sounds like you’ve gotten into some trouble.”
“Yeah.” He sipped his drink, watching her over the rim. Damn if those eyes of his didn’t make her feel like he could see right into her soul. Maria blinked and looked away fast. “Like I said, I’d really appreciate your help.”
“My rate’s forty-five an hour, plus mileage,” she said. She probably wouldn’t end up charging him, with their history and all, but still. He needed to know this was another business transaction. Wouldn’t do to have him thinking she was lusting over him, even if she was. “I’ll handle research. That’s it.”
“That’s all I want.” He smiled, and the room seemed to brighten a bit. Then he glanced over at the playpen across the room and frowned. “How old’s Camille?”
“Three months. Why?”
“Do you really need that thing already?”
“No. But I like to be prepared.” She studied him closer as he was turned away from her. It had been dark last night, and she’d been too preoccupied to notice, but he had a tattoo on his left forearm. A sort of intricate, swirled, tribal design. “When did you get the ink?”
“Huh?” Trevor looked back at her, then down to his arm. “Oh, that. Had it done in Vietnam after a mission. Everyone on the team got one.”
“Nice.” She curled her toes into the cushion beneath her as images of where else he might have gotten tattoos filled her head. Maybe on his broad back, or his rock-solid abs, or his hip, or….
“Listen, I know this is awkward and I also want you to know that I’ll continue to honor our contract and won’t interfere in your life or Camille’s once this is over.”
The knot of tension between her shoulder blades eased slightly. “Thank you.”
A tiny mewl issued from the nursery down the hall and Maria set her coffee aside and stood, exhaling as she came to a decision—if he was going to be hanging around her house for a while, it was time for him to meet his daughter.
“Come on,” she said, gesturing for him to follow her.
Trevor frowned, pushing to his feet and putting his mug on the coffee table beside hers. “Where are we going?”
“There’s someone you should meet.”
She held her finger to her lips as she led him down the hall to the guest room she’d converted into a nursery. Maria eased the door open to find her baby daughter stirring in her crib, limbs flailing as she stared up at the mobile hanging from the ceiling. “This is Camille.”
Trevor approached the crib like he was coming upon a deadly sniper, then stared down at his infant daughter with such wonder that it nearly stole Maria’s breath away.
“Wow,” he said, his tone drenched in awe.
“I know, right?” Maria watched him watching their daughter and warmth spread from her core outward to her extremities. She had to remind herself that this was just an introduction, nothing more. That once this investigation was over, Trevor would be gone. Still, he was here now, and there was a bit of magic in the air. Camille burped, then gazed up at Trevor, taking hold of the finger he waggled down at her. “Camille, honey, this is your daddy.”
5
A few hours later, they were working side by side at the kitchen t
able. Trevor was still trying to process meeting his baby daughter for the first time. She was so tiny and precious and sweet. Of course, then Maria had invited him to help change her diapers and that had been a whole different kind of nasty. Sure, he’d hiked waist-deep through leech-infested swamps, dug out latrines in the desert, even helped recover the decomposing remains of fellow soldiers who’d been killed behind enemy lines.
None of that had prepared him for diaper duty.
Still, he wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Hold your breath, work quickly and efficiently, get the job done. Not really so different from his SEAL duties after all. Plus, there was the joy of holding Camille afterward, of seeing her smile, of hearing her little coos and squeaks, of knowing that he’d help make this little person.
“Wait a minute.” Maria reached over and grabbed his forearm. His skin tingled from the contact, despite his wishes. “Now I know where I’ve seen that before. That’s the label for Camellia Stout. I can’t believe you had my favorite craft beer tattooed on your arm.”
“I can’t believe you named our kid after alcohol,” Trevor shot back, feeling far happier than he should about the fact she’d paid attention to his ink. “Besides, it was my favorite too, back in the day.”
He stared down at the deep fuchsia bouquet surrounded by two wheat sheaves pictured on his forearm. He’d not meant to show her that, but with the warm weather and the fact his T-shirt had short sleeves, there wasn’t any way to hide it either. He slipped his arms down under the table and clasped his hands in his lap and hazarded a glance at Maria. Man, she was so pretty—her shining hair, her soft skin, all those delectable curves, the little noises she’d make deep in her throat as he’d made love to her….