Hunter nodded and relaxed against the cushions.
He hoped so, too.
Chapter Two
Christa Marlow parked at her son’s daycare and smiled as Dillan sang along with the Baby Shark song playing from a playlist she’d created for him on her phone. It was hard to believe he was going to turn three in a few months. Where had her little baby gone? He’d grown so much since they arrived in Harland County almost a year ago. Dillan thrived here. Was happy here…safe here.
After cutting the engine, she shoved the keys in her purse then exited the music app on her phone.
“More,” Dillan muttered, insistence in his little voice. “More Baby Shark.”
And so it begins…
Their new morning ritual as of this week.
“Mommy will play it for you on the way home after daycare,” she stated calmly, despite the mini tantrum happening in the back seat.
She glanced at the clock on her phone and contemplated if another round of Baby Shark was worth missing morning coffee with her friends before work. Even though Christa knew giving in to Dillan’s tantrum would fuel him to do it more often, she valued spending time with her son.
“There’s Sarah! And James!” Dillan pointed to the Dalton cousins heading inside the building. “Come on. Let’s go!”
He tugged at his car seat restraints, suddenly in a rush to leave.
Looked like coffee was on her menu this morning after all.
Chuckling, she got out and shoved the phone into her crossbody purse, silently thanking the inventor because it freed up her hands. Lord knew she needed them both when dealing with a child and his belongings. She opened the rear passenger door of her SUV where she swiped his backpack—loaded with extra clothes, pull ups, shoes, and snacks—off the floor, then glanced around the parking lot before unbuckling Dillan and grabbing him from his seat.
Would she always be looking over her shoulder?
God, she hoped not.
“Hurry!” He squirmed in her arms. “They inside.”
She pushed the past aside and was smiling when she entered the lobby of the brick building that was a daycare for infants and an all-day preschool for toddlers like Dillan and James, and pre-kindergarteners like Sarah.
Once she set him down, she laughed as the kids greeted each other with hugs and screams.
“Hi, Christa. You’d swear they hadn’t seen each other in weeks, instead of twenty-four hours,” Kade Dalton said, his gray eyes twinkling.
He was James’ father and Sarah’s uncle, and one of a handful of men Christa trusted.
Each week, Kade and his cousin Kevin took turns bringing the kids to daycare. The fathers were handsome, kindhearted, hardworking…and on the right side of the law.
Unlike Dillan’s.
Her chest tightened. She hated that her son would never have the love of his father. But she swore she’d do what she could to make up for it.
Inhaling, Christa forced those thoughts away and a smile to her lips. “Morning, Kade. Yeah. It’s adorable.”
The Daltons owned a horse ranch and Kade operated Shadow Rock Shelter on the property, for rescued and neglected animals.
Every Sunday, she took Dillan there to help out and was grateful Kade allowed her to teach her son not only to care for the animals, but the responsibility of caring for them as well.
It was the highlight of Dillan’s weekend. Well, that and playing with James and his older brother, Kyle, once their chores were done.
She chatted with him while they waited in line to electronically sign the kids in. The tight security was one of the things she liked the most about the place. Cleanliness, quality teachers, and kind staff were a huge plus, too.
It was only after talking to the Daltons, McCalls, and a few other well-respected families in the county that Christa had enrolled Dillan. Letting him out of her sight had been extremely difficult and stressful, but after the first few weeks, her nerves settled, and she relaxed. And Dillan excelled.
For nearly the thousandth time, she sent up a silent prayer of thanks for Harland County’s existence and for being led to this wonderful town.
She had a good job, good friends and a happy, healthy son.
Refusing to focus too much mental energy on that good fortune lest it be taken from her, Christa signed her son in, walked him to his classroom, bid Kade goodbye, then concentrated on getting to her morning coffee gathering with her friends on time.
Each week, a different friend hosted it at her place of work. This week was Stef’s turn. Stefanie McCall was not only the sister of an old friend, but she was also the person who’d told Christa about the opening at the popular tattoo parlor next to Stef’s graphic arts shop in a small strip mall near the Gulf.
Christa had applied for the job at Melancholy Ink, garnered a Zoom interview, then a second in-person interview with the owner, Mel Sharp, who’d been Mel Richardson at the time. The gorgeous, petite yet formidable woman had asked to see her portfolio and had Christa tattoo her on the spot. She loved art only second to her son and knew it showed in her work. Mel had promptly offered her the job.
The rest was history. A good one for a change.
The ride from the daycare to the strip mall took less than five minutes. Christa parked behind the building. Each shop had a private rear entrance with several parking spots. The door on the far right was Stef’s. The one next to it was Mel’s. Left of that was Loni and Lori Champions’, her twin friends who owned the bakery and supplied all the mouthwatering morsels they enjoyed with their coffee. The fourth door, the last one on the left, led to Abby Thompson’s beauty salon, Sharp Cuts.
Her sweet, stunning blonde friend had also gotten married last year. She’d had a precious baby girl, too. Once in a while, Christa babysat the cutie so her friend and her hunk of a husband could enjoy a dinner in peace.
She remembered all too well how tiring those first few months were with a newborn. Trying to eat or sleep uninterrupted was nearly impossible. Granted, she hadn’t had the help of a husband like Abby did, but she had been blessed with a wonderful friend named Chloe and her equally wonderful sister, Stef. The two had helped Christa when they could, but she’d been determined to handle things herself whenever possible.
Pain tightened her chest as it always did whenever she thought about her son not growing up with a father. It had been Jack’s choice and he had chosen crime instead of them.
Okay, that wasn’t exactly true. He’d chosen family.
The Ackermans ran a biker gang, something she’d been completely unaware of because Christa had apparently worn the biggest damn blinders in the world. All she’d seen was an incredibly hot guy who’d treated her with kindness and heat.
She’d just lost her mother and had been completely alone in the world when Jack had entered the tattoo parlor in Encino, sat in her chair, and stole her heart with his good looks, sexy dimples, tough-guy vibe and sweet words.
But that had all disappeared four months later when she’d discovered she was pregnant. Instead of rejoicing like her, he’d pressured Christa to abort the baby. There was no way…no way she would ever do that. Even now her stomach churned, and chest squeezed tight just thinking about it.
She couldn’t imagine not having Dillan in her life. That sweet little boy with dimples was her life.
When she’d refused, Jack told her about his family and said he didn’t want her, or their child caught up in it. He insisted she needed to run far away. Never talk about him or reveal that he was the father.
Heartbroken, scared, and confused, she’d begged him to go with her, but he declined. Said he was in too deep. They had eyes everywhere and would track him and them down. So, he’d emptied his pockets, shoved all the cash he’d had on him into her hands, kissed her forehead and walked out the door with a warning to never see him again.
Two days later, she’d hopped a bus to Las Vegas, quickly found work, a small, safe apartment, and enrolled in a night course at college to keep her busy. Turne
d out to be a great decision because that was where she’d met Chloe.
Eight months later, after Dillan was born, Christa, sleep-deprived and in a moment of weakness, had made a few inquiries to some of her former co-worker friends about Jack, only to discover he’d been killed in a fight a month earlier.
At the time, she’d been gutted, but the pain that lingered was for her son’s loss, not her own. She’d made peace with it years ago.
“Looks like I’m just in time,” Rylee Bryson said, wearing a smiling expression that told the world she’d just been immensely satisfied and didn’t care who knew it.
Good for her.
Rylee crossed the alley from the building where she worked as an investigator. ESI owned the entire large building next to the mall.
It also housed some very impressive agents that her friends were either married to or living with, so Christa was learning to trust them.
They were definitely respected around the community and were always kind to her and Dillan.
Next week, coffee duty fell to Rylee, so Christa would be heading to that building before work. Her pulse kicked up at the thought of walking past the muscled, former military, shirtless hunks who were always working out or sparring in the morning, no doubt, to keep sharp.
She’d been around a lot of large, muscled men before. Heck, she’d tattooed a ton of them, even some from ESI, but her latest ESI client was different. Oh, he was muscled and gorgeous like the others, but this one… Hunter had a lethal, badass air to him that made her heart race in a way it definitely should not.
Lethal and badass were in her past. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—go down that road again. No matter how much her body begged.
She blinked the past from her brain and smiled at her friend. “Hopefully, there’s still some of Loni’s cupcakes left.”
“Don’t hold your breath.” Rylee chuckled, reaching the door first and holding it open for her to precede.
Thanking her, she walked into Stef’s office and greeted the other women with a smile and a wave.
“Darn. I was hoping you two would be late and I could call dibs on your goods,” Mel said with a fake pout. “Just my luck.”
She laughed at her boss. “Sorry.”
“Don’t listen to her.” Stef smiled, her aqua-colored eyes twinkling. “There’s plenty. Grab a coffee and have a seat.”
She glanced around the room. Loni and Lori sat on a couch along the side wall beneath a large window and Abby occupied one of the chairs opposite them, separated by a coffee table where two boxes full of baked goods sat open that filled the room with a heavenly aroma.
All of her friends were beautiful. Stunning, even. She was definitely the duckling among swans.
Christa knew she was okay looking. Average height and her body sported more curves since having Dillan. Was that a good thing? She had no idea. Nor did she care, other than when she’d tried to dress in some of her pre-pregnancy clothes. Most no longer fit, so before moving here, she’d bagged them up and donated them, knowing she had more important things in her life to focus on.
“How’s Dillan today?” Abby asked, an ever-present, friendly expression on her face.
“Good, thanks. How about Mindy?” Coffee in hand, she sat in a chair next to the new mother.
Abby sighed a sigh that could only be classified as content. “Perfect. Mrs. McCall is watching her today.”
Leeann McCall was Stef’s husband’s aunt and an absolute gem. The woman sometimes watched Dillan for Christa if she had to work on a Saturday. Last fall, Mel had hired two more artists. Jose and Trudy both worked the evenings and weekends, which freed Christa to be able to spend the time with her son. But once in a while, she did an occasional session on the weekend to accommodate a client.
“Of course, my niece is perfect,” Mel said, dropping down next to the twins on the couch across from her. “She’s got great genes.”
“That’s for sure.” Stef smiled. “She has Abby for a mom.”
Christa laughed along with her friends.
“So, has Dillan said any new words this week?” Loni asked, leaning forward to grab a cinnamon bun from one of the boxes on the coffee table.
She snorted. “Oh yeah. One he shouldn’t.”
Her eyes had almost fallen out of her head yesterday when he’d said it as he was coloring next to her and her boss while they’d been sketching at work yesterday evening.
Mel snorted too. “Yeah, thanks to Lex.”
Lex-on-the-beach was her boss’ pet cockatoo who had his own perch in the back office at work. He was an absolute riot and Christa loved working with him in the building, but she definitely wasn’t crazy at the thought of her son mimicking naughty words from the verbose bird.
Mel revealed to the women the bad word Christa hoped wouldn’t become part of her son’s new vocabulary.
Chuckles sounded around the room.
“Could’ve been worse, though,” Mel said. “Considering some of the things that come out of Lex’s mouth.”
“True,” she agreed with a smile as the others nodded.
Everyone in the room was well aware of the talkative cockatoo’s vocabulary and reputation for colorful outbursts. Most of Melancholy Ink’s clients were, too. According to some, they loved it and him almost as much as their tattoos.
Lex was becoming infamous.
“Never a dull moment.” Mel shook her head, but grinned.
“Sanity is over-rated,” Lori said with a grin.
Abby yawned. “And sleep, too.”
The woman was definitely a new mom. Christa grinned.
“That’ll return,” she said, reaching for a bear claw. “Just hang in there.”
“Thanks.” Abby sighed into her coffee.
Stef sat in one of the chairs, careful to hold her cup straight. “Christa, I heard it through the grapevine that you’re inking Hunter.”
It was a good thing she’d already swallowed her mouthful of bear claw because she was not expecting her friend to bring that up.
Or the focus of the room to snap to her.
Careful to keep her cool, she willed her pulse to level out and nodded as nonchalantly as she wished she felt. “Yeah. He commissioned a large piece. It’s actually gorgeous.”
“Ah. Like the guy,” Stef said, and the others agreed…all while still watching her.
But she didn’t bite. Nope. Not going there. Not going to acknowledge those chiseled features, rock-hard muscles or his dark, mesmerizing gaze that pulled her in and made her want to grant him anything he wished…and confide all her secrets.
“He’s definitely going to be Christa’s best work,” Mel said, a mischievous gleam in her eyes matching her grin.
Again, she didn’t bite, knowing her friend wasn’t talking about the tattoo.
“What kind of tattoo did he want?” Abby asked.
“A tiger that will take several sessions to finish,” Mel answered for her, that darn grin still on her face.
A twinkling entered Abby’s eyes. “I see.”
“That is interesting.”
“For sure.”
“Very,” the others all said at once.
“It’s not just any tiger, though,” she felt obligated to point out. “He wants it to appear realistic like the tiger is clawing his way out from inside. I’m really excited about it.”
The tattoo will cover his entire left shoulder blade, shoulder, chest, and left bicep, which she’d already inked last month.
“It? Or the hunk you get to touch?” Lori asked, not bothering to hide her teasing.
Abby chuckled and Loni laughed.
“Yeah, it does seem like it would be an enormous hardship working on him.” Stef grinned and Christa swallowed a sigh.
Not her too.
This was turning into an inquisition. One she knew wouldn’t end until she responded.
“I know, right?” She smiled, but it wasn’t forced because they weren’t wrong. “There are days I have a great canvas.”
<
br /> “I’ve seen Hunter shirtless, sparring with the guys,” Rylee finally spoke up. “And, yeah, he has an excellent canvas.”
Everyone chuckled, even Christa that time. It was the perfect lead-in to change the subject.
“I think it’s you who has the best job perks,” she said, and the others bit and agreed.
Abby nodded. “Yeah, poor Rylee. Forced to watch all those gorgeous men working out each morning, panting, glistening muscles rippling.”
“Abs-a-plenty.” Lori winked.
“Those sexy, damn trails and deep Vees,” Mel added.
This time they all sighed into their coffee, each lost in thought. Theirs, no doubt on the fine attributes of their men who all happen to be Rylee’s coworkers. Christa sighed because she was happy to have the focus off her.
It had absolutely nothing to do with Hunter’s rippling muscles, abs-a-plenty and sexy, damn trail and deep Vee. Nope. Nothing at all.
And the heat flooding her body was all due to the coffee she sipped.
“Sounds to me like you’re next,” Stef said, smiling at her.
“Yeah,” Mel agreed.
Christa choked on her last mouthful of coffee.
Dammit.
After clearing her throat, she chuckled. “Warn a girl, will ya?”
“Okay.” Mel grinned. “You’re in Hunter’s line of sight.”
“Yeah, so if you don’t want all that badass hotness, you’re in trouble because he always gets his man. Well, in your case, wo-man.”
Stef lifted a shoulder. “Sorry, Christa. I have to agree with them on this one. That guy is sweet on you.”
Hunter? Sweet? She wasn’t sure those words belonged in the same sentence. But she was definitely sure she did not want to get involved with another badass.
Christa knew it was possible to be a badass and not a felon, but the past had taught her to be cautious. Even though she doubted Mac would hire an old friend if he was a criminal, she recognized the expression in Hunter’s eyes. It spoke of dark secrets. She knew this because at times she saw the same look in her own mirror. And, okay, so that just proved dark secrets didn’t mean criminal activity.
But she still wasn’t interested in Hunter.
Hunter (HC Heroes Series Book 8) Page 2