She had the impression that Slade was very good at keeping secrets. She couldn’t find anything about his personal life. No Facebook page, no listing of relatives, no background on him. Either he kept his digital footprint small or he—or someone else—had worked hard to scrub out his background so he could stay low profile.
Trying another angle, she searched for Tayra. She’d never really done that before—she’d had no need to find her sister since they were already close. Wedding pictures popped up, along with all of Tayra’s school information. Bethany saw a blurry image of Slade in the background at the wedding—it had been a rushed affair and Bethany hadn’t been able to attend. She’d been on deadline and Tayra had asked her to be a bridesmaid a week before the wedding. Bethany bit down on her thumbnail.
Had that been the mistake Tayra had made—rushing into a marriage? But she looked so happy in her wedding photos. The radiant bride. The image blurred. Bethany wiped her eyes. She didn’t know why Tayra’s marriage had failed, except she was sure Tayra had been more in love with finding a hero to save her than she was with finding a man who could be a partner to her.
A hollow tapping interrupted her meandering. She hit the button to put her computer to sleep and glanced at the doorway. Slade stood there.
He’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt. He looked huge, filling the space. He also looked great. The soft gray-blue of the shirt gave his eyes warmth, and his muscles stretched out the shirt in a way that said he worked hard on staying fit. The jeans clung to long, lean legs. Bethany forced her stare back to his face—she was not going to sit there lusting after the man.
Slade offered a small, crooked smile. “You ready for lunch? Jason tells me there’s a pizza parlor in town, but they don’t deliver.” That husky tone in his voice had her stomach doing somersaults.
She told herself it was just hunger. Standing, she stretched. Her shirt rode up and she saw Slade’s gaze slip to the strip of skin she’d just flashed. Stopping the stretch, she tugged down her shirt and nodded. “Give me ten minutes to change.”
He left and she headed to her closet.
She’d set up her laptop in the bedroom—Tayra had had a dresser that worked as a desk for her, but she really needed to set up a better workspace. She was making due with too many things around here. Now that Tayra was…
Skipping past that thought, she glanced around. She’d packed up Tayra’s clothes and had donated them. She’d boxed up Tayra’s photos and personal items—Jason might want them someday. But there was room in the garage to set up a better office space. Maybe she’d get Slade to help her with that.
She changed from sweats to jeans and a white, sleeveless blouse, and slipped on some white vans. She quickly dragged a brush through her hair and put on lipstick that doubled as protection from the summer sun.
Heading into the living room, she found Slade and Jason on the floor, now both playing the computer game. He looked ten years younger, and an image flashed into her head of what he must have been like as a kid—tall, still, but thinner, maybe less serious. She wondered suddenly what might have happened if she’d gone to Tayra’s wedding and had met him then—would they have sparked, clicked, hooked up?
She touched the tip of her tongue to her lower lip. She’d never know about what might have been. But she was hungry right now, and Jason probably was, too. She put her hands on her hips. “Hey, what about pizza?”
Slade didn’t look away from the game. “We need to finish this inning.”
She smiled. “You didn’t think I’d be ready in ten minutes.”
Slade gave a groan, and Jason pumped a fist into the air. “Strike out!”
Tossing the controller down, Slade stood. “I’m getting the stuffing kicked out of my team. Come on, buddy.” He reached a hand down for Jason.
Bethany moved automatically to help, but Slade hit her with a glare and she froze. Face warm, she turned to grab her purse. Slade tossed the car keys to Jason. “Go open up the SUV.”
Grinning, Jason headed outside. Slade held open the front door for Bethany. She locked up, and he said, “You’re too protective of him. He said he doesn’t go to school and you’re acting like he’s half-way crippled.”
Bethany shook her head. “He’s not. But I’ve been homeschooling him. Tayra—she’d help out with that when she could, but I wanted to make sure he got a real education. He’s great on the computer, ahead of where he’d be otherwise in school. He’s also got a half dozen friends who share homeschooling with him. All of us take turns on taking the kids on outings, too.”
He put a hand on the small of her back.
Bethany’s face heated even more. The pressure of his hand warmed her skin, sending small tingles through her. Okay, it was a bad idea to keep him around, she thought. Or maybe she could use this attraction between them? Maybe she could convince Slade that Jason really was best off with her adopting him.
She started into the details of everything that went into homeschooling—the hands-on education, the computer skills she was teaching Jason, the weekly outings they took to museums and also to tech companies in Portland. If that didn’t impress Slade, nothing would.
***
Slade listened to Bethany’s sales pitch. He knew better than to tell her he already knew most of it.
Travis had sent him a file this morning that contained everything there was to know about Bethany Simmons. Her medical history, which was almost non-existent. Her banking information, which showed she had enough to own a place in Portland and good savings. She didn’t have a passport, hadn’t traveled much, and had never gotten as much as a speeding ticket. She’d had a few relationships, was still friends with those guys, and pretty much lived for her work and for Jason.
For the boy, there were fewer answers—a birth certificate with no father listed, type-O blood, which fit the background for most people, and a medical record of issues with his legs. Slade was going to let Bethany bring that up, too, but she hadn’t lied when she said Jason needed surgery. He did. No way was Slade going to let that boy go to a second rate doctor for that. Somehow, he knew that was going to ignite more conflict. For now, he’d settle for pizza.
Chapter 8
Bethany was starting to regret the trip into town. Everyone stopped her to offer condolences from the town folk, and from behind the pizza counter, eighteen-year-old Amada told her, “Bethany, you have got to get over this need to do everything yourself.”
Bethany gave her a nod, grabbed their cups, and guided Jason over to the soda fountain, leaving Slade behind to deal with ordering the pizza. She got to watch Amada flirt with Slade—so much better than having to deal with sympathy—and Slade didn’t even seem to realize he was getting Amada’s best eye-batting.
Slade did seem to realize he was getting the typical cross-exam that most strangers got. Bethany eavesdropped and heard Slade duck every question thrown at him. He headed toward the table she’d snagged, the order slip in his hand.
Sitting down, he said, “That kid’s in the wrong job. She should be the town reporter.”
“We’re too small to have a paper,” Bethany said. She sat up and Mr. and Mrs. Martino came over to shake her hand and give her their condolences. Bethany fixed a smile in place and listened to the usual platitudes. When they left the table, Bethany glanced at Slade and smiled at his scowl. “I take it you haven’t spent much time in a small town?”
“Let’s try none. If this is what you get, I’ll avoid them in the future as well.”
“They mean well, but everything is so fresh.”
“More like they’re incredibly nosy.”
Bethany shrugged. “That, too. But it’s more from wanting to know if they can help, or how they can help.”
“There’s no such thing as helping by minding your own business?”
Bethany shrugged. “They know me. They know Jason. They knew Tayra. They don’t know you—so they’re checking you out as much as they’re checking up on me. It’s one of the reasons I’m thin
king about staying a while—it’s good to have people watching your back.”
His shoulders relaxed. Bethany hadn’t realized he was tense. A small smile edged up his mouth, bringing back his charm. “Yeah, I know about that. Now, I hope you’re hungry. I ordered the extra mega size.”
“Cool,” Jason said, looking up from where he’d been blowing bubbles into his soda.
***
After lunch, they boxed up the extra pizza, drove home, and Slade insisted on taking what he called a ‘walk around’ with her. While Jason played in the front yard, Slade had Bethany take him on a tour.
“How old is this place?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I think it’s the mileage more than the years. Tayra never had the cash to fix it and I haven’t had the time. Or the inclination. So long as the roof doesn’t leak, and the water comes on, I’m good.”
He shook his head. “Give it another year and that roof will be leaking. Paint and minor repairs keep the major ones at bay. You want to be proactive about problems.”
She grinned suddenly. The wind tugged at her curls, and Slade wanted to reach out and tangle one around his finger. He shoved his hands in his back pockets instead.
Bethany crossed her arms and leaned against a pine that shaded the side yard. “Now you sound more like Slade of Slade Security. Is that how you see me and Jason—problems to be solved?”
“People aren’t problems. People cause problems.”
“No wonder you’re single.”
He leaned his shoulder against the pine. It was big enough to shade both of them, but he’d moved close enough to smell the scent of Bethany’s shampoo. Lemon and honey, he decided. Sweet and tart at the same time—like Bethany. “How do you know I’m single?”
“No ring. No calls or texts, other than work—unless you live with someone named Travis. That’s the only name I’ve heard you mention, so I’m thinking that’s Travis at work and not Travis at home. I also Googled you and you’ve got the smallest digital footprint I’ve ever seen.”
He grinned. “Unlike you. And Jason. So tell me about his condition—LLD?”
“Leg-length discrepancy.” She let out a breath. “His left leg’s longer than his right. He was born with a condition. They call it Russell–Silver syndrome—RSS. His intrauterine growth wasn’t good, and then Tayra said he was a tough baby to feed. The doctors tried lifts in his shoes, but it’s been getting worse. They want to do surgery now. Either they’ll shorten the longer leg, or lengthen the shorter leg. We’ve been to two specialists, and, surprise surprise, each one has different ideas about what’s better.”
Slade glanced into the front yard. From where they stood, they could see Jason on his knees in the dirt, running trucks over the ground and making engine sounds. “What are the other options? Seems like he’s already been through enough.”
Bethany shook her head. She pushed off of the tree. “I’d give everything to save Jason from this. We put off any thought of surgery once Tayra got sick, but…well, I’m worried now. Jason saw his mom go into the hospital and not come out. That’s not a great thing for any kid to see and now he has to go into another hospital.”
Slade touched a hand to her cheek, brushing at a freckle. “He’s a tough kid. Give him some credit. But this has been hard on you, too.”
She tipped her head to one side. “You really do have a white knight complex, don’t you? Is that the reason for the help? You’re going to bring in an army of contractors, fix the house? Then an army of doctors to fix Jason? Next you’ll be fixing me? Is that the idea? And when you’re done, you can ride off into the sunset.”
“Isn’t it cowboys who ride off? Knights hang around for the bar-be-queued dragon before they split.”
Bethany shook her head. “Nice. Make a joke about it. But I’ve got your number, Slade. Your work is your life, and that means a little boy like Jason would get the best money could buy—but forget about giving him your time. That’s another reason for you to be on my side about me adopting him. I’ve structured my work, my life, for him. I’ve been there for him when Tayra wasn’t. I’m Jason’s stability.”
Slade held up his hands. “Whoa, there, now who’s the cowboy? I’m not here to fight you.”
“Really? Then what are you here for?”
Slade pulled in a breath and let it out. He glanced at Bethany. She was staring up at him, her blue eyes bright. She was going to put two and two together, eventually. But he didn’t want to say anything. Not until he was certain. He shook his head and asked, “When’s Jason’s next doctor’s appointment? I’d like to be there to talk to the doc.”
Chapter 9
Bethany knew when she was being brushed off. The fast change of topics made it clear—Slade didn’t want to talk about his reasons. She had no way to make him talk, so either she accepted the situation or she threw him out. “Harry’s the local handyman. His number’s by the phone. You can call him to help you with fixing things up, but I’m not looking for a rebuild, so no contractors.” She started for the house. On the porch, she turned back. “Jason’s next appointment is next Thursday.” She headed inside.
She did what she usually did when she was upset—she lost herself in code. When she looked up, the house had gotten dark. She stretched. Her back popped. Shutting down the computer, she blinked. Usually, Jason came to break her out of her work—he knew to ask her if he was hungry or needed anything. She headed into the living room and found Slade sitting in front of a flats-screen TV hung on the wall. She blinked at it and at him, and then at the rest of the room.
“What happened to the living room?”
Slade had his bare feet up on a new coffee table made from varnished pine. The thick legs of the table—more pine—gave it a sturdy appeal. The old couch had been replaced by something in chocolate leather. A matching leather chair sat at a ninety degree angle. The old TV was gone, along with the rest of the mismatched furniture that Tayra had scrounged up for the house.
Slade had been watching a baseball game with the sound turned low. He muted the TV and put his feet on the floor. Oh, there was a new throw rug—a nice big one in dark, soothing colors with an oriental pattern. Bethany itched to pull off her shoes and dig her toes into it, but she wasn’t going to go for being bought.
She looked at Slade again. “When did this all get here? Did you ever think I might have liked things as they were?”
He didn’t seem at all embarrassed that he’d changed everything. “You like sagging couches? Come on, that was stuff Tayra bought, I could tell that from the flowers all over everything. I went ahead and ordered a few things yesterday.”
“I could have done that.” She crossed her arms.
“You’ve got a lot on your mind. I get that.”
“And they got here today?” She groped her way to the overstuffed chair, sank into it. The smell of leather rose around her and the cushions wrapped around her butt like a lover’s embrace. Okay, so she could get used to this. She looked at Slade. Damn him for being right so often.
He drank the last of his bottle of beer. “Yeah, they got here today. By the way, Jason’s in bed. We had the rest of the pizza for dinner, and he rooked me into a bedtime story, so I told him about having to extract a client from a drug lord in Bolivia.”
“What!” Bethany’s mouth dropped open. She snapped it closed.
Slade grinned. “Don’t worry. No shots fired. No one died. Well, if you don’t count the iguana that became dinner one night. It wasn’t a blood and guts story.”
She frowned at him. “Was it a true story?”
“Embellished. I threw in a little lost Inca treasure.”
“Incas? In Bolivia?”
“Yeah, Jason caught me on that one, too. He’s a smart kid.”
Bethany pushed up from the chair. “Did you save me any pizza?”
“One slice and a beer. Both in the fridge.”
She came back with the pizza on a plate, the beer open—a local microbrew she’d had before and like
d—and sat on the couch next to Slade. She waved the beer at the TV. “How about a movie? Or are you married to that game?”
He handed her the remote. “You pick.”
She found a movie channel and glanced at Slade. “You installed cable, too?”
“Satellite.” He leaned back on the couch, arms stretched out along the back. He propped his feet back on the table, and she had to look. He had great feet—long and shapely, long toes, too. A white scar ran over the back of one foot. She wanted to ask about that, but it seemed like prying to her.
Instead, she went hunting for a movie. She found an on-demand showing of Lord of the Rings, and went for it. Too bad if Slade wasn’t geeky enough to enjoy Tolkien—she was a hard-core fan and she had the special edition back home. Maybe it was time to get her things sent up here and close up her apartment for good; but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
She’d loved her independence. She’d loved taking Jason down to Portland with her almost every summer—Tayra had been fine with Bethany taking him for months at a time. She’d also been fine with Bethany visiting, and Bethany’s freelance work had given her the flexibility to do as she liked. But now…now she wasn’t certain. The future seemed to be hanging—would Jason’s father want him? Would she be able to adopt him? Would the courts step in? She shut down the questions and lost herself in the movie.
At some point, Slade got up. She heard the sounds of popcorn snapping, smelled the lush butter and salt aroma. Slade came back with two more beers and the popcorn. They sat through the first movie, she glanced at him, and he waved his beer bottle. “Go for it. I can’t remember the last movie night I had.”
Another round of beers got them through the third movie. Bethany yawned through the ending credits and shut off the TV before she got started on the Hobbit, which was coming up next. She glanced over at Slade. He’d fallen asleep with one hand on her thigh and the other stretched out behind her.
His Secret Child (Slade Security Team Series Book 2) Page 4