Tall Dark Defender

by Beth Cornelison

  “Come on,” she begged, tugging his hand. “We can watch it now!”

  “Dinner first, Haley,” Annie said without missing a beat as she set four places at the table. “Wash your hands. Time to eat.”

  Haley whined her protest, and Annie visibly tensed. The past few hours, to say nothing of her shift at the diner, had taken their toll on her. A fussy child was the last thing she needed.

  He had no notion how a parent normally dealt with cranky complaints, but his instincts told him distraction was a promising option. “Haley, have I shown you my magic trick?”

  Forget that he had no real trick. Haley was hooked. Eyes wide, she gaped at him as if he’d hung the moon. “You know magic?”

  Annie tipped her head, giving him a curious look.

  Jonah scrambled for a plan, making things up as he went. “Sure, but…you need clean hands for this trick. Let’s wash up, okay?”

  Hands clean, Haley sat down at the table with him, watching expectantly.

  Um…

  “I can…make this sandwich disappear!” Jonah picked up his sandwich and waved a hand over it.

  “Do it! Make it disappear!” Haley squealed, and Ben clapped his hands.

  Annie’s cheek twitched in amusement.

  Jonah ate the sandwich in three large bites.

  “Ta-da!” he mumbled around his mouthful of food. He waited for the inevitable look of disgruntled disappointment from Annie’s daughter. Instead, she giggled and rolled her eyes.

  “That’s not magic!”

  He chewed some more so he could speak. “It’s not?”

  “No!” The girl laughed, but she picked up her sandwich and eyed it. “I can make my sandwich disappear, too!”

  And she did.

  “Thank you,” Annie mouthed from across the table.

  After dinner, he helped clear the table, then followed Haley to the living room with Ben while Annie finished cleaning the kitchen.

  The Disney movie held Haley’s rapt attention as Jonah took a seat on the couch. Ben glanced at the television occasionally but was more absorbed in stacking his wooden blocks and knocking the towers down.

  After watching the process for a while, Jonah moved to the floor with Ben. Rolling a wooden block in his fingers, Jonah replayed the afternoon’s events in his mind.

  He prayed Annie’s meltdown today had been her needed catharsis. But now she needed a healthy outlet for the future, a safe environment where she could continue the healing process. Ginny would provide some of that counseling and support.

  But would that be enough?

  Annie was strong, but even the bravest woman needed a soft place to land when the world crashed around her. A soul-deep yearning tugged inside Jonah, twisting, aching. He wanted to be Annie’s safe harbor, her confidant, her life partner so much his teeth hurt. But that damn niggling voice that had been whispering to him for weeks now wouldn’t be quieted. The uneasy feeling that committing himself to her and her family would be a disaster.

  Ben’s tiny hand grabbed the block Jonah held, and the brush of those tiny fingers reverberated to his marrow. How could he ask Annie or her children to tie themselves to him when even he had doubts about his ability to be part of their family?

  A movement at the edge of his vision told him Annie had come to the living-room door. He glanced up at her and curled up one corner of his mouth. She returned a twitch of a grin, her gaze flicking from one child to the next. A mother hen assuring herself that her chicks were safe.

  Haley crawled forward and punched the volume up on the Disney DVD. The cartoon princess who’d landed in real-life New York City had just arrived at a costume ball.

  “Bok.”

  Jonah glanced down at Ben, who held a block out to him. “Yeah. Block. That’s good, buddy.” He took the offering from the boy’s chubby hand and slanted a look toward Annie.

  Her attention, like Haley’s, was riveted on the television screen as the princess and the handsome New Yorker who’d befriended her swirled around the dance floor. A melancholy ballad played and glittery confetti surrounded the starry-eyed, star-crossed couple.

  Jonah sat back, leaning against the sofa, and watched Annie stare at the fairy-tale movie. Tears sparkled in her eyes and wistful longing transformed her expression. His heart slowed, stuttered at the sadness on her face and his new insight.

  The woman who’d raged and pummeled her imaginary attacker today until her knuckles bled was a died-in-the-wool romantic at heart. An optimist who’d had her dreams of happily ever after brutally ripped from her.

  The desire to put a smile on Annie’s face, whatever the cost, slammed into Jonah with a force that stole his breath. If anyone in the world deserved a happily ever after, Annie did. She’d survived so much, been so brave and strong for her children.

  He shoved to his feet, his muscles protesting, and pulled the coffee table out of the way. Stepping over to her, he held out his hand. “May I have this dance, pretty lady?”

  Annie blinked at him, stunned, then shook her head, swiping jerkily at her damp eyes. “No…Jonah, I can’t—”

  “Sure you can.” He took her hand and tugged her close, despite her startled gasp.

  “What are you doing?” She stiffened and gaped at him with wide, dubious eyes.

  “Trying to dance, but you’re not following my lead.” He tugged harder, until she stumbled into his arms. He was a clumsy dancer at best, but he shuffled his feet in a sidestep, and Annie staggered along with him, still staring at him like he’d lost his mind.

  He anchored her slim body closer, so she wouldn’t fall as he swept her around in small circles, careful not to trip on Ben’s blocks. He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “And I’ve never darkened the door at an Arthur Murray Dance Studio.”

  A small awkward laugh snuck from her, and she turned up the corner of her mouth. “I can tell.”

  He sent her an expression of mock affront. “Hey! I’m not that bad!”

  The movie music swelled, and he swooped her around in grander twirls. Annie clung to him to keep her balance, her eyes brightening.

  Haley noticed them dancing and jumped up from the floor. She giggled and clapped her hands. “Me, too. I want to dance!”

  As her daughter twirled and pirouetted around the floor, Annie’s smile grew, and her cheeks flushed. A genuine smile blossomed on her lips, and her face glowed—all the encouragement Jonah needed to continue swirling around the confines of her living room, colliding with Haley. When the little girl tumbled onto her bottom, he broke his hold on Annie long enough to scoop the girl onto his hip.

  Haley squealed her delight as the three of them continued to dance and spin. Annie’s laughter joined her daughter’s giggles, and Jonah’s chest filled with a bittersweet pleasure and satisfaction. Annie’s smile and lyrical laugh were intoxicating. He’d give anything to know he could make Annie this happy for longer than a few moments of silliness. As he’d suspected, her smile transformed her face from attractive and intriguing to knockout beautiful.

  Haley wiggled to be put down again, and he let her slide to the floor without breaking his hold around Annie’s waist. Once Haley scampered down the hall, calling something about her princess crown, Annie lifted a grateful smile and a teary gaze to his.

  Jonah’s heart clenched, and he tucked Annie under his chin as they made another circuit around her small apartment. Like that afternoon, the crush of her petite body against his made his nerve endings crackle and spark. Holding Annie, the sweet scent of her shampoo filling his senses, taunted his libido. He craved her kiss, the touch of her skin against his.

  But as they danced, her smile warming him to his core, the hum of his body took a dangerous turn. His heart was involved. Her laughter bubbled inside him like a disinfectant cleansing the poison and pain from his soul.

  The music from the DVD slowed, and Annie lifted a heartbreaking gaze that punched Jonah in the gut.

  He was in trouble. The mix of emotion filling Annie’s damp eyes was muc
h like that of the Disney princess as the dance with her true love ended. Longing and reluctance, gratitude and regret, and—probably the hardest for Jonah to bear—hope.

  The last thing he’d wanted to do was build false hopes for Annie. He was no one’s prince. He couldn’t give her a storybook ending. Dancing with her had been a mistake. Encouraging her romantic notions only set her up for more heartache when he couldn’t fulfill her happily ever after.

  But, damn it, seeing her smile, knowing he’d made her laugh, giving her even a few moments of happiness after the gut-wrenching day she’d had had been worth it. Hadn’t it? Or was it just his own selfish need to feel he’d slayed a dragon for her, given her a few minutes of lighthearted joy when the rest of her world seemed so difficult?

  Even after the ballad stopped, Annie stood close to him, her eyes searching his as if they held all the answers to her problems.

  His pulse hammered. Big trouble.

  When he brushed a hand along her cheek, she trembled and raised her lips. Need slammed him, knocking the breath from him. As much as he wanted to kiss her, he couldn’t, wouldn’t mislead her about his ability to give her a fairy-tale ending. Instead he pressed a kiss to her forehead and stepped back.

  A shadow of disappointment, colored with embarrassment, dimmed the spark in her eyes as she stepped out of his arms. Guilt kicked him in the shin.

  “Look, Jonah!” Haley pranced back into the living room wearing a plastic tiara. “I have a crown like Giselle’s.”

  Her daughter’s arrival provided a welcome distraction, and an excuse to tear himself from the temptation Annie served. He cleared the thickness from his throat. “Hey, princess. Don’t you look pretty?”

  “Can you dance with me again?” Haley lifted her arms to him.

  Annie hugged herself, clearly still fighting an onslaught of emotions. “Haley, I…I think it’s your bedtime.”

  Jonah gritted his teeth, struggling to sort out for himself the shift in his feeling toward Annie. So much had changed today. He’d be wise to leave, to get some distance to clear his head.

  Haley pouted, and her shoulders slumped. “But, Mommy—”

  “No whining, please.”

  Jonah tweaked the girl’s chin. “Hey, another time. I promise.”

  Annie avoided his eyes as she stooped to collect Ben’s blocks and pile them in a basket. “You, too, Ben. Go get your jammies for me. Haley, brush your teeth.”

  The kids, with mixed degrees of protest, toddled toward their bedrooms, leaving him alone with Annie. He crouched beside her and helped collect blocks.

  “You have a beautiful smile. You should use it more often.”

  His comment stopped her. Her hand hovered over a block, shaking. Finally, she looked up, and confusion and pain clouded the dark eyes that moments ago had held such joy and hope. “What do you want from me?”

  He rocked back on his heels. “Only for you to be happy. And safe.”

  “Do you see yourself as part of that happiness? Is that why you’re here?”

  His gut pitched. Why was he here? What was he doing inserting himself in her family dynamic if he had no intention of staying?

  “I’m here because you had a rough day, and I wanted to be sure you were all right. I thought you could use a hand with the kids tonight.”

  And because he knew Farrout and his cohorts still saw her as a threat to be dealt with. She was still in danger.

  His answer clearly didn’t satisfy her. She frowned as she moved the basket of blocks to a corner of the room, then dropped onto the sofa. “Why do you feel that’s your job? I’m not your responsibility. You don’t owe me anything. It’s not your fault my life is in the pitiful shape it’s in.”

  “Maybe not, but I want to help.” He took the seat beside her on the couch and resisted the urge to brush her cheek again. The wary distance that had returned in her eyes told him his touch would be unwelcome.

  She picked at a loose thread on the sofa cushion for a moment, then raised a level gaze. “I’m not looking for someone to rescue me. I refuse to depend on anyone ever again.” Steely determination colored her tone.

  “Especially not a man.”

  She squared her shoulders and scowled. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to.” He raised a hand to interrupt when she opened her mouth to protest. “I don’t blame you. The men in your life so far gave you reason to be cautious. But I’m not your husband. I’m not Hardin. If you don’t want me in your life, I’ll leave. But I’m worried about what’s going on at the diner and how it could all play out. I want you to be safe, and I want you to know you can trust me.”

  She stared at him for several long, tense seconds, gnawing her bottom lip. Every one of her conflicting emotions played across her doelike eyes as if he were watching her thoughts on a monitor.

  “I’m so scared, Jonah. Not just because of the mess at the diner. I’m scared of the future. When I think about raising those two babies by myself, supporting them with my pathetic paycheck, trying to teach them right from wrong…I feel overwhelmed. Alone. But…” She shivered and rubbed a hand along her arm. “But when I think about getting involved with someone again…oh, God, that scares me the most. I don’t want to spend my life alone, but how can I risk…?” She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “What if they turn out to be like Walt?”

  Her honesty grabbed him by the throat, simultaneously spreading warmth through him and chilling him to the bone. While he was flattered that she trusted him enough to reveal her fears, her worries echoed the doubts that had dogged him, haunted him with increasing frequency as his feelings for Annie deepened.

  While he’d cut off his own hand before he’d ever raise it against a woman or a child, his memories of family life, the legacy of his own painful youth warned him away whenever he considered marriage. Family. Children.

  Despite the drumbeat of caution pounding in his brain, Jonah dragged a hand down his jaw and looked for a way to reassure Annie. He wouldn’t lie to her. But he wanted so badly to give her even a morsel of the hope she deserved.

  “When the right man comes along, you will have the wisdom and discernment that your experience gives you to know, in your heart, whether he’s like Walt or not.” The notion of Annie with another man scraped him raw. But if he couldn’t give her what she needed, didn’t she deserve to be happy with someone else?

  Of course. But that didn’t make it any easier for him to think of another man touching her, holding her, making love to her.

  His gut knotted, and his mouth dried, but he forced the words she needed to hear from his tongue. “When the time is right, you’ll know you’re ready to commit yourself to a relationship.”

  Her expression softened. “I want to believe that.”

  “Then do. I believe it. One hundred percent.”

  The tender longing that lit her eyes made it difficult to stay on his side of the couch. As much as he wanted his next breath, he wanted to press her back in the cushions and convince her with his kiss that he was the one who could make her happy, that he was the one she was looking for.

  But Haley ran into the room, providing the diversion he needed to regain his focus and control.

  “Done brushing. See?” She flashed her teeth.

  Annie seemed equally relieved for the distraction. She lifted a corner of her mouth in a grin of approval. “Very good. Now scoot to bed. I’ll be back in a second to read you a book.”

  “Can Jonah read to me tonight?” her daughter asked, trotting over to flop against Jonah’s legs.

  Annie shook her head, clearly ready to protest.

  Though his gut tightened at the notion of helping with something as domestic and familial as tucking Haley into bed, Annie was exhausted, and if reading Haley a book would help her, he’d read a whole library.

  “If it’s okay with your mom.” Jonah sent Annie an inquisitive glance. “I don’t mind. Really. You tend to Ben.”

  Her stunned look told him what word
s didn’t. He ex-husband had never volunteered to help put the children to bed. When it came to raising her kids, she’d been as alone in her marriage as she was now.

  Haley tugged his hand, and Jonah rose to follow the girl to her bedroom. She scampered under the covers and grabbed a book from the foot of the bed. “This one. It’s my favorite.”

  Jonah glanced down at the title. Skippyjon Jones.

  “And you have to do the Spanish accent like Mommy does,” Haley added as she scrunched down under her sheet.

  “A Spanish accent, huh?” Jonah scratched his chin, already having second thoughts about the task he’d volunteered for. He cracked the book open and began reading the humorous tale of a Siamese cat who thought he was a Chihuahua. Hearing a noise in the hallway, he glanced up and saw Annie’s shadow on the wall outside Haley’s door. Annie hovered by the door, out of sight, no doubt listening—whether protectively monitoring his interaction with her daughter or simply curious to hear his attempted Spanish accent, he couldn’t say. It didn’t matter. In her place, he’d do the same.

  He turned the page and continued reading.

  “Jonah?” Haley interrupted.

  “Yeah?”

  Haley angled her head on her pillow to peer up at him with brown eyes, much like her mother’s. “Do you think my mommy’s pretty?”

  He grinned and nodded. “I do. I think she’s beautiful.”

  “She has a scar on her face.” Haley wrinkled her brow as if deep in thought.

  “I know. So do I. See?” He pointed to the scar over his eyebrow. “I’ve had that since I was just a kid.”

  She winced. “Does it hurt?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “My daddy broke Mommy’s cheek. She had to have surg’ry. That’s why she’s got a scar.”

  He heard a soft gasp from the hall, and his chest tightened imagining Annie’s concern for her daughter.

  Please, God, give me the right words for this little girl.

  “You know your daddy can’t hurt you or your mom anymore. You’re safe.”

  She nodded matter-of-factly. “Daddy’s in jail.”