Hidden Rocco (Hidden Alphas Book 5)

by Victoria Pinder

  Then wading through sewage… at least his skin now smelled like the almond soap he’d found in the brand new hotel room. The place still had a new wood smell, and the view from his room with a balcony was amazing even with the snow.

  And this good morning was all because a beautiful woman with soulful brown eyes had given him shelter last night and a provision of amenities.

  Now he whistled as he left his unlocked room and headed downstairs.

  He’d promised Mica breakfast and he’d deliver. The kitchen had double doors, and had been created for a large staff.

  A promise was a promise.

  Rocco opened the refrigerator and realized she had everything.

  He checked the drawers and pantries. Everything looked shiny and new. The halls were quiet and the rugs had the just-off-the-roll smell. No cars had been in the parking garage. Her hotel wasn’t open yet but she had family hidden around, they were absolutely alone. He’d have to prove he’d do no harm. The kitchen had enough food to last for months, but he focused on the bacon, eggs, and fresh vegetables.

  In prison he’d never had the option to make anything and the cooks weren’t exactly into healthy and delicious options.

  Rocco heated up a frying pan and mixed some vegetables in the food processor, then beat the eggs.

  Soon he had had the bacon sizzling, toast in and omelets with cheese and vegetables.

  He had a hum on his lips as he set the side table clearly there for staff, even dancing though no one was around and no music played. Outside the doors, he heard footsteps and imagined his angel was returning.

  She entered the room carrying a small baby. Was she married? She had no ring. Maybe she wasn’t but just had a stupid boyfriend who didn’t let other men know she was taken. He pulled a chair out for her. “I made breakfast… who’s this, ma’am?”

  She took the seat and bounced the baby on her lap. “This is my son, Jacob.”

  He’d only grabbed two plates. He placed one plate in front of her and glanced at the door behind her. “He’s cute. Is your boyfriend here too?”

  Her nose twisted like he’d asked the wrong question and then she said, “I don’t have one. But don’t get any ideas. I watched your room on my security camera. You seemed pretty tired, so I took a chance on you because of the storm.”

  “I will do you no wrong, ma’am.” What stupid man would leave a woman like Mica, and his own son? Rocco’s shoulders straightened, wanting to speak to the man himself. “Your boy is young.”

  Her lips pouted, her face red. “His father is dead.”

  His muscles tightened as he noticed that she didn’t seem sad about it, but angry. He shook it off. Grief was strange. He lowered his head. “I’m so sorry, ma’am.”

  She had red in her brown hues as she snorted though her baby didn’t react with more than a wide-eyed glance around. “I’m not. I’m glad.”

  Mica cooed and smiled at her son.

  His mind swirled but he returned to the stove and added bacon to an oval platter. “Why?”

  Rocco put the omelet and bacon in the middle of the small table in front of her.

  “He tried to kill me to stop me from having a baby because he wanted to marry someone else.” She spoke like this was normal.

  Not a way to treat a dog, never mind a beautiful woman. Any man would be lucky to have someone like Mica in his life. Strong, clear headed women who knew how to get whatever they wanted but still kind were like rare flowers. He slumped in his chair. “That’s brutal.”

  She smiled and nodded like they’d shared some sort of joke. “I think so, which is why I’m not sad that he got what was coming to him.”

  At least she had a heart despite the horror she’d seen. In prison that spirit of hers kept a man alive. He sat at the table and folded his hands in front of him. “How will you explain that to your son?”

  The baby rested on her shoulder. Rocco glanced around the room to the pantry. He vaguely remembered something foldable from his earlier search and jumped out of his seat to get it.

  “He’ll know his mother wanted him so much she fought for their lives,” Mica said.

  He found the square object and snapped his fingers. It was a Pack 'N Play playpen. He laughed and unfolded it. The mind sometimes sees things before being aware of what or why was something he'd read in many of the self-help books that he’d devoured over the past two years. “That’s… good. I made it here yesterday before the storm, climbing that mountain, intent on surviving. I will find a way to help my mother, who I wish had your fighting spirit.” He needed to make money for her care.

  “Is she sick?”

  He brought over the Pack'N Play so she might eat with both hands, pushing it next to her. “Cancer.”

  “That’s horrible, Rocco.” She didn’t move at first, so he backed up. He didn’t want to frighten her as she clutched her child.

  Mica gently laid the baby down and he took the seat opposite her.

  Until this morning he hadn’t realized how much fun cooking could be. Was it good?

  Mica picked up her fork and put a bite of omelet in her mouth. She chewed and her lips were beautiful. She’d kiss like a dream, he thought. He glanced at his untouched food. “So, how are the eggs?”

  She nodded like everything was perfect. “Good.”

  He took a few bites—it had been years since he’d tasted anything so wonderful that he’d made. Before prison he used to enjoy watching TV chefs and YouTube channels to learn fancier meals than flipping a burger. He was glad he’d remembered how to make an herb seasoning.

  He never should have been confined in jail and had argued for a new trial, stating his innocence, but no one had cared.

  She finished her eggs and put her fork down, wiping her lips which had his attention. Mica, with her brown eyes, light brown hair, and curves was riveting in simple jeans and a black t-shirt. Her confidence was the first thing anyone might see, and she didn’t wear an ounce of makeup. Once she put her napkin down, she folded her hands in front of her and glanced at him up and down. “Do you need a job?”

  His loose-fitting clothes that he'd hand-washed must have given him away, but he didn’t argue. “I do.”

  She sat backward and stared like she was the Queen of England while she assessed him. “How handy are you?”

  Wait. Was this an interview? He sat straighter and said, “I can fix what needs fixing. In the marines, I spent years with electrical and before that at my mother’s house, I used all my tools every day for years to fix whatever she needed.”

  She let her hands fall to her side, checked her son, and nodded at him as she said, “Strangely enough I slept better last night with you here.”

  He hadn’t left the room she’d given him. He’d kept quiet and didn’t dare leave the room until the sun shone through his window. The sunrise had been yellow and orange, breaking the dark sky in bursts of color with snow white on the ground for miles around them. “I didn’t do anything.”

  She tilted her head and pushed her plate back. He took her dish and placed it under his so he could clean up once the conversation ended. “No, you didn’t. If you help me ensure this hotel is in tip-top shape by summer I can pay you very well.”

  So this was a job offer. His mind raced and his skin buzzed. If he gave her too much information, she might call the police. Rocco folded his hands on the table. “That’s generous.”

  She pursed her lips. “It’s not really. I could use a second person around.”

  If he stayed here, was he hidden away enough? Or was this too dangerous? “You don’t know anything about me, ma’am.”

  She leaned closer. “I told you my name is Mica, so you don’t call me ma’am.”

  Rocco had no right to call her by name as she was a good and kind woman. He stood fast. “You’re a lady and deserve to be treated with respect.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “And calling me ma’am is respectful?”

  He gave a quick nod of his head and finished clearing the ta
ble to show he wasn’t worth her time. “You are absolutely my superior and I’m happy to help out around here for a bit.”

  She reached over the dishes and squeezed his thumb. He glanced up at her and she said, “Rocco, look…my ex’s family might come for Jacob.”

  Wait. Her son was in danger? She was clearly a caring mother. He met her gaze and asked, “Why are you alone?”

  She sucked in her bottom lip and then let it go. “I… I can defend myself but it would be nice if… if I had someone like you here to ensure I had the chance to, or just to call the emergency number I’ll give you.”

  Bad people didn’t listen to a simple no. He’d had breakfast, lunch and dinner with men who would and could hurt her with no qualm.

  The hotel chalet was quiet due to the remodel and out of the way, so perhaps he could stay for a while to protect her and Jacob. He stacked the dishes and stood. “You want me to watch your back.”

  She looked at her son, who was sleeping, and followed him to the sink. “Hopefully this is just me being paranoid, but I can pay well.”

  He washed the dishes without saying a word, considering his options. Silence clung in the air except for the birds that chirped outside the window. The white snow on the ground and trees would melt soon. Once the last fork was in the drying rack, he let out a deep breath. “Don’t pay me. Just send the money to my mother, and I’d rather her not know it’s from me.”

  She folded her hands on the counter next to him, her foot propped against her opposite calf like she’d been a dancer. “Give me her address.”

  Mica oozed grace and beauty from every cell of her body. He’d do his best to help her while he was here. He kept his head down. “Okay. Thank you, ma’am.”

  She stood taller but her lips pursed. “I’d like to hear you call me Mica though.”

  In a few days or at most weeks, he’d leave, but her memory was going to last for years. He turned and noticed the birds in a pine tree outside the window despite the snow on the tips.

  Life was beautiful here. It fit the woman beside him. He met her gaze. “Mica’s an unusual name, ma’am.”

  She let out a hmm, but then set her toes on the floor. “It’s short for Michaela. My mother had a thing for angels. My brothers are Gabriel and Raphael.”

  A good woman from a good family. He gave her a half-smile. “I had two brothers, neither worth talking about, both dead but definitely not angels.”

  She pressed her hand to his bicep. “That had to be hard.”

  Goosebumps grew on his arm and down his body from her touch. He moved to end the contact so he could breathe easier. A prisoner wasn’t good for a lady. “I’m not exactly the kind of man your type associate with, ma’am, but I’ll do my best to ensure no one gets in here.”

  She tapped the side of her cheek and studied him. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. I have over a decade of HR and management skills. I’ve been hiring and firing employees for years now and I can tell you’ll be a good worker, and my despite your lack of bags, I get the sense you’re honest to the core.”

  The parole board didn’t have that opinion of him last month.

  But her faith was something he’d try to meet. He brushed against her shoulder while he stared at the bird and said, “I’ll live up to that, ma’am.”

  She bumped his side once more on purpose and he glanced at her as she said, “And I’ll look forward to when you’re comfortable enough to call me Mica.”

  She was the kind of woman a man never forgot. Her kiss would probably taste better than chocolate and he’d wanted chocolate for years.

  Today he breathed free air. Today was already sweet because Mica was here. He glanced down at her. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.” She shrugged and glowed almost brighter than the sunrise earlier.

  Whoever this ex of hers was sounded worse than the criminals he’d met in prison as even they didn’t try to kill pregnant women. He stilled and waited for her to slap him as a response but asked his question anyhow, “If you’re good at reading people, why did you date such a bad guy?”

  A long sigh escaped her lips and she closed her eyes for one second. It was like she took the brightness of the day with her until she opened them again. “I was young and foolish.”

  “You’re not that old now,” he said.

  “I’ve learned a lot in the last year.” She turned toward him and closed the small space between them. “I have a brain and I’m using that rather than listen to parental advice. I used to believe in fairy tales and impossible dreams coming true. Now I know I can’t project my wishes on anyone, and I use my common sense.”

  “Can I ask a personal question?”

  She held her breath and then gave a curt nod. “Go ahead.”

  “What was the medicine you needed for?”

  “I was… injured, but I’m healing.”

  “You seemed in pain, like it was your gall bladder.”

  “It’s not that.”

  “Well, if you need your pills, just scream. I’ll come fast.”

  “Thanks.” If someone as confident as Mica was worried over her son, then whoever this man had been, he'd been bad news. She was right to say he deserved what happened to him. Rocco would do whatever he could to help Mica. “Trusting in yourself is an admirable quality.” The baby woke up and cried. He backed away from Mica. “I see your son wants you. Why not take him outside and enjoy the morning?”

  She headed toward the baby and picked up her son. “Isn’t it too cold?”

  The windows didn’t even have frost on them. He intended to go out and see the tree and the birds closer. In prison he’d watched the birds go from trees to cement and not care where it lands though here a bird would be surrounded by beauty. “The snow is melting already…the storm is over. Bundle up?”

  She smiled at him as she walked to the refrigerator and grabbed one of the bottles. “Good idea, but I'll have to think about it. Thank you, Rocco.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. You have no idea how you’ve saved me,” he said as she left.

  He’d make a few bottles and place them in the fridge and then go outside. Mica deserved far more than he might ever offer, but he’d at least help in a small way, as a token of appreciation.

  Chapter 4

  Mica, upstairs in her suite, surfed the internet on her laptop in her office area while Jacob napped in his bassinet.

  At least WIFI was faster now that she’d had the service fixed a few days ago. It had been torture using her slow phone data.

  She was connected to the world, even if she was avoiding people.

  Well, most people.

  Rocco, downstairs, had cooked a great breakfast. He cleaned. He showed such wonder of nature. He pitched in. He listened without arguing or making a suggestion. And he didn’t make her self-conscious at all.

  Maybe it was because he hadn’t ogled her like she was the answer to his money prayers which was every other guy she’d met even after giving birth in New York.

  He hadn’t checked out her body like she was some hot thing.

  Well, giving birth had ruined that girlish figure anyhow.

  Maybe she’d never lose the last ten pounds, though through his eyes, she felt appreciated for who she was, not what she should be or might have been.

  Yet he hadn’t had anything with him when he’d arrived, saying he was lost.

  Mica added another pair of work pants to the shopping cart.

  Perfect.

  And as soon as she hit “purchase” her phone rang.

  Julie, her secretary, who wanted to check in with her about the credit card order. Probably better to tell Julie about her houseguest before she saw the purchase history since Julie knew Mica was avoiding all men.

  Mica would help Rocco, if he helped her, as that seemed fair. Jacob woke from his nap and Mica shook a rattle at her son, who smiled wide, then launched into her spiel, “I need ten extra-large t-shirts and 36 x 36 jeans,” both of her brother’s wore that size and
she’d spent years sending them clothes, “ and pants to match, a jacket, size twelve boots, socks, and underwear.”

  Rocco seemed similar to her brothers’ in size, and this was a good place to start. Mica could order different sizes if those didn’t quite fit.

  Julie didn’t argue. She simply said, “Two hours.”

  “Perfect.” Mica’s assistant had been hired to be out of sight and very competent. She knew that Julie would do the job asked with no questions.

  Jacob cooed, and Mica was grateful that her son was strong and healthy. Mica was getting better, and her job was to keep him safe and happy, forever.

  She gave her son a huge goofy smile and then told Julie, “Add a race car for Jacob—I think he’s ready to hold something.”

  “On it,” Julie said. “Anything else?

  “No. Thank you.” Mica then ended the call.

  Mica caught a glance of herself in the wall mirror decided to take her hair out of the bun and switch it to a ponytail, which made her seem younger.

  Being attractive wasn’t a bad thing.

  Right?

  Her pulse quickened at the idea of being near Rocco.

  Which was strange. She hadn’t been attracted to any man in a while now. She’d stopped believing it was possible after giving birth.

  But clearly that was wrong.

  She picked up her son from the bassinet and kissed his squishable cheeks that were now filling out even more. “Jacob, sometimes it’s best to help people who help you. Remember in the future that a good CEO gives people a reason to work hard.”

  One day he’d understand her and it was better to talk to her son, always. She stood and saw her reflection in the wall mirror. Black jeans, black t-shirt. She looked like she was practicing ballet, her hair back. She settled Jacob on her hip. For one second she wondered if Rocco might… never mind. She didn’t need to wonder if he liked her as neither one of them were thirteen. Romance wasn’t on her radar anymore.

  Her all-black outfit was meant for ease, and simple style.

  She seemed too New York. Mica tore off the t-shirt and black jeans, grabbing a pair of blue denims and a red shirt.