Secret Dad

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Secret Dad Page 7

by Victoria Pinder


  Her skin was still white though her cheeks had some color. "How will you do that? In the middle of the night someone might come and take Brandon from me again."

  Something snapped inside him. He knew what he had to do. He had vacation time saved up and could take a leave of absence. "No, they won't. I'll be here."

  She blinked as her eyes widened. "You will?"

  "I'll move in, if you'll have me." He'd take the job her brother offered and be her personal body guard for however long this took. No one was going to hurt Elizabeth or his son. They were too important.

  Her eyes watered. "I'd love that.”

  He wiped her eyes as the doorbell rang. Before they broke their connection, though, he whispered, "Consider it done. I'll get my things."

  Chapter 8

  Rafe made her heart beat double every time Liz touched him. He was hypnotic. If she had spent the morning in his hotel room that night rather than creep out before dawn, there would have been no way she'd have ever left him. Right now his presence was the only thing keeping her together, from not grabbing Brandon in her arms and squeezing her baby tight.

  Her son slept peacefully and she'd not wake him.

  Elizabeth shouldn't think about Rafe as a man who she'd like to take up against the wall. In the hotel room, she had been the one to rip the buttons of his shirt off. He was coming to stay with her to protect Brandon. Her son mattered far more than her libido. She squared her shoulders as she opened the door.

  The sun shone bright in her eyes. For a moment the people appeared in shadow and her mind flashed that they were there to take her boy. Her lips quivered and then she blinked. She stepped aside and let her family in. "Peter. Mom. Hi."

  "What's going on?" Peter patted her arm as they crossed into the threshold. "Rafe said someone threatened you. And Brandon."

  "Yes." She closed and locked the door, her gaze never far from the video monitor. Standing next to Rafe, she said, "Someone left a message that if I don't pay a ransom then they will kill Brandon—the next time, which means that even though we haven’t publically announced the baby’s return, somebody knows."

  Rafe addressed Peter as he said, “I’d like a list of everyone who was at your house that night. I know it was a lot for you, so I’ll talk to security.”

  Rafe's hand went to the small of her back and she lowered her arms to her sides and walked with them into the living area that overlooked the bay. "I can't take any chances. Rafe is going to move in and protect us."

  Her mother's eyes widened. "He is?"

  Rafe bowed slightly. "I promised Liz that no one will get to Brandon on my watch."

  Peter then said, "You call my sister Liz?"

  Rafe's face turned red. "Mr..." He coughed then continued, "If you don't want me too..."

  "No, please." Peter interjected fast. "You've not called me by my name since high school and even that was only when I spoke to you."

  "I went to school with you because your father didn't want my mother distracted from her job. I knew my place and it wasn't in your world."

  Place, in the way he meant, was the stupidest word she ever heard. His “place” was with her.

  Rafe and Peter then took a few steps back to have a private conversation. Liz curled her hands around her own waist. "Why is everyone making this a big deal, Mom? I need to sleep at night and Rafe's the one who found Brandon. I trust him and want him here with me."

  "I agree, sweetheart, it's wonderful." Isabelle Morgan fixed Liz's hair behind her ears as she patted her hand. "This way I can stay next door at Peter's since he just lost Belle, and you're protected. If you need me to babysit or anything, just come and get me.” She lowered her voice. “Remember what I said about picking a man who might love his family."

  Her eyes widened. Without her mother in the house, she had no buffer to avoid Rafe. On the other hand, her body ached for him so no interference might be great. She swallowed. "This is a lot to take in."

  Her mother whispered, "Rafe's a good man. His mother, Pilar, and I just had tea together. I owe that woman so much than I can never repay." She stepped back.

  This was about Brandon, not about her lack of a love life. "Mom..."

  Her mother’s darker hair made her seem so much more dramatic and wonderful than she could ever be. “You can date whoever you want, but a man like Rafe will cherish you."

  Her face heated in what she hoped wasn’t an obvious blush. "Mom. We're not dating. He's here to solve a case. Don't get your hopes up."

  Isabelle shook her head as she straightened her blouse while looking in a mirror. "Whatever you say, darling. Can you have Ashley pack a bag for me and send it over?"

  The maid was around somewhere. Liz closed her eyes and hoped hired help was enough to scare away anyone who might go near Brandon. She refused to look at Rafe, except his muscled shoulders were reflected in the mirror. "Mom, you leaving here won't change what happens between me and Rafe. I trust him to protect Brandon."

  "And I trust that my daughter has good taste when it comes to men like that one. I wish someone like Rafe had crossed my path all those years ago."

  Isabelle turned Liz around so they could watch the men in some heated conversation. Liz brushed her mother’s hand off, but her heart skipped as she stared at Rafe. "Mom."

  "Shh, they’re coming back." Her mother took her hand and squeezed it. As Peter and Rafe returned to their sides, Rafe silently loomed beside her. Her mother turned toward her brother. "Peter, I told Liz that I'll be moving in with you today."

  "That's fine." Peter stared at her and Liz wondered what Rafe had said. Had he told him about Vegas? He shouldn't have; she’d asked for time. She swallowed as Peter continued, "I told Rafe moving in here makes it official. He'll be in charge of Morgan Security from now on and taking a leave of absence that might be permanent from Miami PD. I need him to find Belle and keep you safe."

  Rafe nodded. "It's temporary."

  Peter shrugged like he didn't take temporary seriously. "Rafe, I expect you to solve who is behind the threat and ensure no one hurts my sister or my nephew."

  Rafe squared his shoulders. "You have my word. I will also stay on top of the search for Belle."

  Neither one of them answered to anyone. None of this made sense. Her heart constricted as Peter then walked toward the door with their mother. "Thanks. If you need us Liz, we're next door. I want to get Mom settled into her room."

  Having her own mother now was good for her, but Peter would need the one-on-one time too. Unlike her, Peter remembered their mother and needed to mend the past.

  Rafe walked with her to the door and waved as the two left. The bright sun in her eyes made her step back into the shade of her home, but the outline of her mother and brother as he offered her his arm struck her as more real than most of her life. "See you both soon."

  This was exactly how she once dreamt of a family. The illusion hit her strong. Luke, Matthew and she’d spent their childhoods isolated in school with only teachers as babysitters. Brandon would not ever get that treatment, not if she had any say. She waited as Rafe closed the door and then swayed on her feet. "That was a lot of visitors. I am not used to being around people, family, and never ending drama.”

  Rafe helped her to the living room and they both checked the monitor. Brandon was stretching but not quite awake yet. In ten minutes, he'd be ready. Rafe placed his hand on his knee as he sat. "When Brandon wakes up, perhaps you should stay with Peter and your mom for an hour while I go home and pack a bag."

  No. Next door with his own mother, Pilar, they'd be planning a funeral and her own nerves would focus on the threat, the entire time. She didn’t want to stay here by herself either. She swallowed, sat beside him and stared at his profile. "Can we go with you?"

  His eyebrow quirked. "Why?"

  Her lips tingled as she imagined a kiss. Her mother's voice in her head telling her to date Rafe echoed the wishes in her own heart, but that made no sense. She ignored the warm sensation that built in her bod
y and blinked. "I'm curious where you live. I feel safest beside you."

  “Liz.” His voice was deep and intoxicating. "We have to keep our relationship professional."

  Professional as in she needed to remember what happened to her son and not let her crazy attraction get in the way. "We are. You're protecting Brandon the best when we’re all together."

  His intense stare made her think that he didn't believe her. "Fine. You can come; it won't take long."

  She pressed her lips together and sensed that he was pulling away. "Don't worry. I am not the kind to overstay my welcome."

  His hand brushed against her arm. "I remember how you left the hotel room without leaving me your name or number."

  With an intake of her breath, she ignored the heat that raced up her spine. "I didn't just leave. You were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you up."

  His eyes narrowed. "And you left without saying good-bye."

  She’d done so many things wrong. Her eyes misted as she hugged her waist. "I didn't know what to say. In the morning light, I was embarrassed."

  The night was burned into her memory as the most passion she had ever felt.

  "I embarrassed you?"

  His voice was like cold, hard steel. He'd not forgive her if she apologized. She was sure of it. Her spine stiffened. "No. I embarrassed myself. I told you. I had never engaged in a one night stand and I just thought it best if I disappeared."

  "I wanted your number."

  That tiny crack in his hardness hit her like a train that sped fast on its tracks. Her lips parted. "At that point we didn't know anything about each other."

  He stood and rubbed his palms on the thighs of his black pants. "We don't have to argue about this. Sounds like Brandon is up. Let's get him so we can go to my place."

  If she left this as it was, then she'd hate herself. He had to know she had never felt that amazing in her life. She stood and took his muscular arm in both of her hands. There was no other choice. "Rafe..."

  He stared down into her eyes. "Yeah?"

  It was time to tell the truth. She squeezed his arm a little as she gazed into his big brown hues. "I am sorry. I shouldn't have left that morning. I wish I could go back in time and tell myself to stick around long enough to get your phone number. I would have called you the day I found out I was pregnant, if I’d known who you were."

  His throat made a noise that only a man could make, an “okay” without the word. Then he reached out and placed his free hand on hers. "I wish you hadn't said that."

  "Said what?" She felt his muscles flex. If her apology meant nothing to him, then she'd have to live with that. She let his arm go.

  Once again every cell in her body ignited demanding to touch him since she was so close. His shoulders slumped as he held her hand. "That you're sorry. Now I have to forgive you. I was holding that as a reason to prove to myself you belong to the House of Morgan, so I'd never touch you again.”

  He released her hand, but the words enveloped her. Did he want her too? It was probably a horrible idea. They had a family to figure out, but her heart pounded in her chest. Near Rafe, she felt better. She couldn't just let him walk away. They had too much potential.

  Chapter 9

  Brandon's eyes widened in concern the moment Rafe entered Liz’s bedroom, but then the little guy smiled and giggled once he saw his mom following him. "Da."

  Every defensive cell in his skin melted as he stared into the boy's brown eyes, and he smiled back. He inched closer and noticed how Brandon's toes separated from each other a little, just as his did.

  Liz placed her hand between his shoulder blades. "He clearly wants you."

  The boy had features that were undeniably his now that he studied his jaw line. Liz's face was rounder, softer than his hard edges. Rafe placed his hands in his pockets and shook his head. He’d heard the upset in her voice when Brandon hadn’t called her mom and he’d never step on her feelings, if he could avoid it. "He wants both of us."

  She pushed him closer to the crib and then walked toward the dresser. "Nope, he wants you. Can you change his diaper? I'll pack his bag."

  Rafe’s fingers ached to hold him, but his insides quaked. He reached in and picked the boy up. Then he had a whiff of his diaper and he wanted to gag. He swallowed. "What do I do?"

  She pointed to a changing table with a thick pad on top as she chose fresh clothes. "Take off the diaper, throw the old one away, clean him, powder him so he's dry and then put the diaper on. It's not hard."

  The diapers and supplies were in a box on the second row. He placed Brandon on the pillow and realized there were straps. He tried to click them, but Brandon was too big. Rafe huffed. "I've never done this before. What if he falls?"

  “He won’t.” Again she pointed to the diaper and the supplies. "I'll hover as I pack his things. Everything you need is right there."

  The diaper had wings on each side, so he undid them. Then he unfolded the diaper and saw how big of a mess was inside. He pinched his nose. "How did such a little guy create this much?"

  Without another word he picked the boy's feet up and removed as much of the diaper that he could.

  Liz called out, "You're doing great."

  Praise wasn't helpful right now. "Where do I put this?"

  "In the garbage right there." She pointed to a white bin that worked with a foot petal. Then she turned her back on him and placed clothes in a bag. "Once you're done, we take it out so Ashley can toss it in the trash."

  He threw the offending diaper away and the room smelled cleaner. He could breathe. "Now what?"

  She turned around with both brows arched. "I told you. Clean him up."

  Yes, he sounded like he was ten years old and asking the teacher for directions, but he'd rather ask than do it wrong. He showed her some wet wipes. "With these?"

  A giggle escaped her lips. "Yes."

  Rafe turned as his son started giggling as well. Rafe lifted his feet with one hand around the ankles and then wiped the boy's bottom. "He's laughing at me."

  She winked as she approached and went under the changing table to pack diapers and supplies. "He's happy to be clean. Now throw the wipes in the trash as well."

  In his memory he remembered his mother always using powder next. He picked up the bottle and then squeezed, which made a white cloud appear. He wiped the boy down but realized the powder was now a disaster zone. "I made a mess—it’s all over both of us."

  She handed him the clean diaper. "Welcome to parenting, Rafe. Put this on him. You really did a great job, and don't stress over the stuff on your shirt. We're going to your house so you can change."

  He taped up the diaper and it stayed on Brandon easy enough. Rafe wiped his hand on his shirt but that just caked the powder in more. "Someone might see me."

  With a sigh, she picked up Brandon who wrapped his arms around her neck. "Are you that vain?"

  This was the mother of his child. It was like light surrounded her as she scooted the boy back on the bench and put a shirt over his head.

  Rafe tugged the shirt lower down Brandon’s back. "No. I'm out of my league here."

  She then wiggled the baby into a pair of pants with a nod. "When you pack clothes, ensure you pack plenty of t-shirts and sweats. Brandon, like all children, can get messy sometimes and you’ll want a change."

  If her last name wasn't Morgan, he'd have kissed her. His lips tingled but he resisted. "Yes, ma'am."

  She picked up Brandon as she shook her head. "Don't ma'am me, Rafe."

  He tried to take the bag from her, but she refused to budge. "I only ma'am women I respect and admire and you definitely qualify. You did this all on your own."

  Her shoulders dropped and the hint of a smile returned to her face. "When I needed help the most, my mom returned from the exile my father forced her in."

  "Before last week, you had no help though."

  "Luke and Matthew are good brothers. Luke came by every day and moved to Miami because I needed him close."


  "And Matthew?"

  "He's a movie star in Los Angeles. He sent money but I told him to keep working and I'd call him when he could help."

  "At least you had some family. I wish I’d been there too, but that's neither here nor there. Are you ready?"

  "Yes, let's go."

  He had nothing carry. "Want to hand me the bag?"

  "You take Brandon. I have this. We're a team now." She handed her son to him and he settled the boy on his hip. Liz smiled. "He seems attached to you."

  Rafe bounced the boy in his arms. "Tell your mom that you love her, Brandon. She loves you a lot."

  She led them to the door. "You don't have to tell him that, but thank you. Oh, I called a child psychologist who specializes in kidnapped kids. She'll come to the house tomorrow."

  "The one from the list that passed security?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good." He glanced at her legs under that pink cotton skirt and white sleeveless buttoned up shirt she wore, and his hand itched to feel how soft her skin was.

  He held Brandon close and opened the door while Liz stayed and locked the house. He dug his keys out of his pocket. Without direction, Liz went to her car in the driveway and took out the car seat. Rafe realized she planned to move her car seat base and said, “I have one already.”

  “Ohh.” She fixed the base back in her car, stood, and hit the button so it locked.

  “We sometimes have donation drives to give car seats out at the station. There were extras.” He opened his car door, and then placed Brandon in the seat that fit him perfectly.

  He bounced Brandon as she came to check his work, but his gaze was drawn to her backside. He remembered how his hands, once, squeezed the same bottom. He whispered to Brandon, “Seems like you’re good and secure for our trip, son."

  "Da." Brandon said as he bounced.

  Liz moved aside and let Rafe place their son in the seat. He strapped him in and then opened the passenger car door for her. She brushed against his arm and he had the thought he should kiss her forehead. As she slipped past him, he closed the door and realized he’d lost his chance.

 

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