Hesitating only a moment, Jeff's sense of control slowly shifted back into place— for the first time in days. "Why don't I give Charlie a call? He could probably give us a few off-the-record pointers. You know . . . so you don't do anything that gets you arrested."
"If it gets Phil out of her life, I don't much give a damn." Hank stroked the salt and pepper whiskers on his chin. "The way I figure— Annie won't relax until he's out of the picture. I don't like seeing her scared all the time. And I really like her, Jeff. I like her boys. And they like me."
Jeff smiled. "I'm really happy for you."
"Every time we're together— those boys just drink it up. They want to live at the farm. Hell— they wanna go to school in one place for a whole year." Retrieving his pencil, Hank drummed it on the table. "They want me to marry their mom. And I’m thinkin’ I do, too."
"Whoa— Freeman . . . slow down. You've been seeing her for what? Eight weeks?" Jeff didn't know whether he should be happy for his friend or perform an intervention on him.
"You're a whole lot younger than me, Jeffie. Me and Annie are in a different place. I've been alone a long time— too long. And Annie hasn't had much of a life these past few years. First an abusive husband— then being on the run. She has kids to raise. And I can help raise them. I want to help," he emphasized. He paused. "You've never been in it for the long haul with anyone— but I have. And it's a great feeling. I never thought I'd find it again after Gayle passed. But I really miss it. And I finally want it back."
His friend's truthful comment found its mark. But the twinge of jealousy he experienced left him baffled. At least Hank knew what he wanted. Jeff had never had anyone in his life he’d wanted around permanently. Anyone he could envision being around a few months— never mind a lifetime.
Mari was the first woman he’d ever actually chased. And once he’d caught her— Jeff had surprised himself. By continuing to pursue her. Hell— he'd been as surprised as everyone else. Yet, he'd stayed in the game. Even when Marisol would have ended it— he'd pushed back. He'd actually fought to stay in. The old Jeff would have turned and run.
All the stuff he'd viewed as strings tying him down didn’t feel like it anymore— at least not with Marisol. For the first time, his instinct had been to jump in. To take on more. To become . . . necessary to her. Like she and Hector were becoming necessary to him?
His brain had skirted the issue for days. Because thinking about her made him nervous. And Jeff wasn't sure why. Could he commit to one woman? Could he be a good father to Hector? Was he even ready? How the hell did anyone ever know for sure?
What made him more uptight— what made his stomach four-chili-dog queasy was imagining them with someone else. If he messed up with Mari— she'd dump him and move on. She was beautiful. Giving. An open heart. She was open to a relationship. To . . . marriage. The thought constricted his chest. Because she had Hector to look out for. And she wanted a family. Marisol would give all that love to someone . . . who wasn't him.
What sent panic crashing through him was the sneaking realization that he might finally have someone in his life he couldn't bear to lose.
***
"Okay, gentlemen . . . just so we’re all clear." Sharon paused, waiting for the conversations to stop. Jeff poked Big Pete to get his attention. "What we’re doing here is slightly unorthodox. We do not make a habit of deputizing outsiders into service."
"We’re happy to help," Hank interrupted.
Sharon eyed him with humor. "I know, honey. But you boys have to understand we’re deviating from protocol here. So, let’s make sure we’re all on the same page."
"We understand you’re in an awkward position. We won’t do anything that could get New Beginnings in trouble." Jeff was relieved Sharon was willing to cooperate. How much help could the construction crew be when they didn’t know who to look for? "Pete’s the only one who’s seen Phil. And none of us know what Luz Covas looks like."
Understanding dawned in her eyes. "Let’s just make sure Miss Sharon doesn’t lose her job in the process." Herding them into her office, she checked the hallway and shut the door before snapping on the television. "This first one is an interview with Luz Covas. It was taken late last week by DSS. You don’t need to hear what she’s saying—just see what she looks like."
She waited while the men focused on the set, memorizing her features. "Okay— this next one is taken from our security cameras the last time Phil was here trying to reach our client."
Jeff sensed Hank stiffen next to him. Tension crackled in the room as he stared at the set with the intensity of a welding torch.
Pete took a step closer, muttering as he stared at the screen. "That’s funny."
Sharon paused the footage. "What?"
"That’s when he entered through the side door." Pete pointed to the screen, placing Phil in the shot. "I was right there. And Miss Marisol . . . she was over here."
"That’s how I remember it too," Sharon agreed. "This is right before you cut him off."
"I can’t believe I missed it." Big Pete’s expression changed from the ever present scowl to one of agitation. That alone was enough to send warning jags down Jeff’s spine. But seeing Mari and Hector enter the frame . . . before Mari pushed Hector away had blood pounding in his ears. Terrifying was probably a better word for that.
"What is it, big guy?"
"I shoulda been flash-blasted for that." Pete took another step closer to the screen, his scowl fierce. "Look at his hand. When I blocked Miss Ortega— I was lookin’ at his face."
All eyes swiveled to Phil’s hand . . . to the knife he clutched, before slipping it into his trench coat as Pete’s hulking frame stepped in front of the camera.
***
"Babe— what's going on?" Jeff hoped he sounded neutral, though he sure as hell wasn’t feeling that way.
"What do you mean?"
"You jump every time I walk in the room." After seeing that knife in Phil's hand, he wasn't sure he could ever feel neutral again when it came to Mari's safety.
She'd done it again— jerking back from him as though he were a stranger. And it stung. Sure— he'd surprised her, but Mari reacted as though he might hurt her. And Jeff didn't like it. He fucking hated it.
"I— you just startled me . . . that's all." Distracted, she focused on the document in her hands.
"Are you sure that's all it is?"
"Jeff— I'm preoccupied. I'm worried about Luz. I have donors who are late." Her eyes flashed with something close to guilt— which sent unease tracing through him. Was there something she wasn’t telling him?
"The construction is making everyone crazy with the noise and dust," he reassured. Three days into his new perspective on life, Jeff had reached the conclusion that the whole becoming-self-aware-thing was exhausting. Before Marisol, he’d never paid much attention to what a woman wanted. Because— selfishly, he now admitted, he was pretty much going to do whatever the hell he felt like doing. And women accepted it— or they were out of the picture.
But now, Jeff couldn’t imagine acting that way. It embarrassed him to remember the way he’d treated some women— perfectly nice women who’d deserved more consideration than he’d given. Not that he’d ever meant to hurt any of them . . . he just hadn’t cared enough to try.
Closing the distance, Jeff pulled her against him, relieved when she promptly wrapped her arms around his neck. This was the Marisol he knew. Her kiss heated and at the same time, soothed. Everything about her felt so right— so worth any effort. His fleeting stab of insecurity was laid to rest when she clung to him.
"Why didn't you tell me Annie lives here?"
Marisol pulled back to frown at him and he loosened his clasp on her waist. "We keep that information classified. To protect our clients. How did you find out?"
"She told Hank." Unable to resist her scent, he nuzzled her hair, dropping a kiss near her ear. Again, he experienced relief when her breath hitched in her throat. Whatever else was going on, Maris
ol was still attracted to him. And while it annoyed him to admit it, Jeff wasn't above using their explosive chemistry to remind her.
Her eyes registered surprise. "Wow— she must really like Hank to confide in him. That's a huge step for her." She smiled. "It's nice Annie trusts him so much."
Did Marisol trust him like that? Jeff frowned. Were there things she wanted to tell him . . . but kept to herself? The problem with all this new self-awareness was that it made him— aware. And doubtful. Of things he'd never doubted.
"Mari— our crew could protect Annie if we knew she was the one Phil was after."
Unaware of his gloomy thoughts, she squeezed his hand. "You aren't here to protect the clients. You’re here to build them a wonderful new facility."
"You know what I mean." Frustration flared. "If that bastard shows up while I'm here, I'll take a two by four to his face."
She raised a brow. "That's why we keep our clients confidential. By the time women arrive here— they've lost everything. Their homes. Jobs. Even clothing. They have nothing left. Here— they keep their dignity. They volunteer to feel better about themselves and to learn skills they can possibly use in the job market. These women are guests . . . not people to be viewed as victims."
"While I get all that . . . you need to understand how we feel-"
Marisol frowned. "We?"
"Hank," he hastily substituted. Damn it— him, too, if he ever decided to man up and be honest with her. Jeff wanted the Hector issue settled. He wanted Mari back. He wanted-
"That’s what I thought."
Disappointment slid through him when she confirmed his suspicion. Did she still view them as temporary? "Hank thinks he’s in love with Annie. If something happens that he could have prevented-"
"Jefferson-" She took his hands in hers. "We have to operate within the law. I must deal with Luz in a legal manner. I protect Hector from her— within the DSS guidelines this shelter operates under." She hesitated. "It doesn't mean I agree with it. I’d love to smuggle him away." She tightened her grip. "I’d love to hire a lawyer who could keep slamming Luz with orders she doesn't have the money to respond to."
Her eyes tearing, she regained control, reminding him again how incredibly strong she was. "But that would be selfish. I'm here to help mothers reunite with their children— if it's in the child's best interest. In Luz' case, she's dangerous and unstable. But there are mothers out there who are just too young— or too poor. Or who just don't know any better. But they love their kids."
"And you think this system works for them?" Jeff was humbled by her. By her ethics— that she would work through a fractured and broken system because it was all that was available. No matter that she risked losing the little boy she loved more than life. Marisol saw the big picture— what helped the most people.
She nodded. "I have to believe that . . . or I couldn't do this."
"Mari, love— you're the most amazing person I know."
"I don't feel amazing," she admitted. "I'm terrified of losing Hector. I take him h-home every night . . . and we— we have a life. It's a small, wonderful life. I don't want to lose it. But there's always the possibility. . . I could."
There was nothing small about her wonderful life. And Jeff was never more grateful to be part of it. "Babe . . . while you may not have the money to make Luz respond to legal demand letters— you realize I do, right?"
"Jeff— you can’t-"
"How can you stop me, Mariboo?" He smiled when she stiffened against him.
"I usually punch Manny when he uses that name."
"Duly noted." Relieved to see a spark of the old Marisol, he smiled. Skimming his hands down her arms, he loved the softness of her skin.
"I was only polite that day because you were meeting my brother for the first time."
Her grumpy admission widened his grin. "That was polite?" A telling blush heated her cheeks. "You looked pretty comfortable with that bat in your hand," he admitted. "For a minute . . . I thought you were gonna use it on him."
"On his truck, actually."
Jeff cracked up. "Remind me never to piss you off."
"I was worried you'd think I was strange for having an overprotective brother stalking us."
"You still haven’t explained what that was about," he reminded. "I’m dying to know why Manny was cruising our jobsite for two days— and sitting outside your place overnight. That’s some serious family closeness."
"There is— something I need to tell you-" Mari hesitated. "It’s not important now."
"Whenever you want." He stroked the sudden tension from her back. This was right. Being with Marisol. Despite the fact that he'd never felt more— exposed. Realizing that he . . . cared for her left Jeff distinctly vulnerable. But as unfamiliar as that felt, this . . . caring— also made him feel so damn good.
Whether Mari liked it, he was going full court press with Specialty's attorney. Deborah was already researching how to shut down Luz Covas and speed up the adoption. And he would have that chat with his brother-in-law, Charlie. Until the Phil situation was resolved, they needed to beef up security around New Beginnings. Any measures they put in place seemed to get shredded by the construction schedule.
Jeff realized he wanted Pete more involved. If he hadn't been holding Marisol in his arms, he would have laughed. Despite the giant's numerous idiosyncrasies, Pete was damned talented when it came to noticing— everything. Between Pete and Hank, they had two highly trained, former military, kick-ass stars in their presence— united in the protection of women and children. They should be able to develop plenty of creative ideas— though probably leaning more toward physical resolution over diplomatic.
Maybe the best thing for New Beginnings would be Phil disappearing— or damn well wishing he had.
Chapter 9
It had been an eventful week, Marisol realized a few days later.
"Mama, hurry up. I needs to go potty."
Inserting her key in the lock, she hastened her pace on Hector’s command. "Remember to wash your hands."
As he raced down the hallway, she tossed her keys in the bowl, her mind splintering in ten directions. Jefferson would arrive soon for baseball practice. Smiling, she took a moment to bask in the glow of how well things were going. Jeff had been true to his word. He’d promised Hector he would try to attend his games . . . and he'd made every game. Every practice. Hector was lapping it up. He loved being with Jeff— loved talking baseball. Loved being tucked in every night. Jeff was a presence in their home nearly every evening now. Increasingly, she couldn’t help thinking about their future— that they might actually have one together.
Her experience with Nick made her more conscious of the stages of her relationship with Jeff. Though she tried not to compare them, Marisol was vibrantly aware of time. At the three month point she’d been head over heels with Nick. Now, at the three month point with Jefferson, when she analyzed her feelings, it was so much deeper and stronger. There could be no comparison to her younger self. Despite knowing that, she increasingly suspected she was holding back . . . reining herself in against the giddy elation she experienced with Jeff. She hated being so cautious. It wasn’t fair to Jeff or her to remain so guarded when what she really wanted was to have everything with him. Sharon was right. Soon, she would have to sit Jeff down and discuss her past.
The tap on her door came at the same moment Hector burst from the bathroom. "Mama— what’s for dinner? I’m starvin’"
She opened the door to Jefferson, smile on his face and a pizza in his hands. "You have perfect timing."
Leaning over the box separating them, Jeff kissed her, lingering over the task. "You know— I’ve heard that before."
"C’mon, Jeff. You can kiss mommy later. We need to eat before practice. I don’t want to be late."
"Okay, Hec. Let’s get the plates out." Winking at her, he headed for the kitchen. "Remember, I’m kissing you later."
"It’s a date." Obviously, the Nick discussion would not take pl
ace this evening. But Marisol made a mental promise that she would get to it soon.
***
"So— Luz has made contact?" Jefferson frowned. "How do you feel about that?"
Marisol rested her head against the couch. They’d finally gotten Hector to bed twenty minutes earlier. "Sharon took the call." Probably a good thing, she admitted, unsure how she would have handled it. "So, I haven’t actually spoken with her. But Sharon says Luz claims she doesn’t want to make any trouble this time."
Jeff set his drink on the coffee table. "From what you’ve told me, that would be a first, right?"
"She claims to have Hector’s best interests at heart, but I can’t imagine Luz having some sort of epiphany about him. Supposedly, she’s moving on and she wants the best for him." Shifting to face him, she sighed. "It can't be true, though. We watched the video DSS sent over. Luz was clearly strung out— so she's not off drugs . . . or if she is, it's only been days. Not weeks or months of sobriety."
His expression darkened. "I don’t like this, Mari. Can’t we stop her from seeing him?"
She loved how Jeff said ‘we’ when he spoke of Hector. Jeff was clearly crazy about her little boy. "I want to be thrilled by this development— that she might finally be ready to sign over custody voluntarily, but I can’t bring myself to trust her. She’s never, ever kept her word— to him . . . or us."
Lowering her voice, Marisol was conscious of how sound carried. "She's hurt him so many times— with her promises." She would never want Hector to overhear them discussing his mother. No matter how awful Luz was, Marisol would never turn him against her. When Hector was older, he could draw his own conclusions.
Jeff pulled her closer, until she rested against his shoulder. "We’ll get through it. If this is her last visit, then we’re lucky. If not, we make the best of it. We’re not going to let her get anywhere near him where she could hurt him. I promise you that."
"Jeff-" It was there . . . hovering in the air between them. Marisol wanted so badly to just blurt it out. That she loved him. That she needed him. So much— she needed him. She’d never felt this way before. That another person had become so essential, she'd question whether she could do it alone. Of course, the sensible, practical Mari knew she could do it on her own. She'd proved she could. But increasingly, she just didn't want to do it alone anymore.
Chasing Marisol (Blueprint to Love Book 3) Page 17