by Leslie North
“No woman deserves to be hit. Ever.” Clint forced his tense muscles to relax. The last thing he wanted was for her to worry about him losing his temper.
“It was nothing too serious,” she tried to reassure him. “A split lip one time. Some bruises.”
Her casual tone sliced deep into his heart. Apparently, the abuse had happened often enough that it became just another fact of life to her. Clint wished he’d met her years earlier, before the hitting had started, so he could have told her that she deserved so much better than asshole Mike in her life.
The realization brought him up short for a moment. He already cared about this woman and her child more than was probably wise, given that he’d just me them two days before. Also, he wasn’t sure getting more deeply involved in her troubles was a good idea, but in for a penny, in for a pound. Besides, he knew what to expect, if Mike got out of hand. Leila and Thomas needed him and that called to deepest recesses of his warrior heart.
Decision made, Clint tucked his phone back into his pocket then hiked his thumb toward his truck. “It’s going to get dark soon and with no headlights, that car’s not driveable. How about I give you a ride to the gun range and we have your shooting lesson then I take you to get Thomas?” He looked back at her car and frowned. “You should call the cops and have them write a report. Where do you keep the vehicle registration?”
“In the glove compartment. Why?” She followed his gaze then cursed again. “He’s got my registration. That means he knows where I live. Damn, damn, damn.”
She began to pace, mumbling to herself under her breath.
This is a bad idea, Clint told himself. This is such a stupid, godawful idea…but I’m going to do it anyway. “I’ve got an extra room at my place. You and Thomas can stay with me if you want until you find other accommodations.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Leila stepped back, holding her hands out in front of her. “That’s going a bit far. I’m grateful for all you’ve done for us, but I don’t want you to feel obligated to continue helping us. And staying at your place, well…”
“I want to help,” he said quickly, maybe too quickly based on her surprised look.
“Why?” Leila shook her head. “You saw what Mike’s like earlier. Why would you want to get involved in a mess like that? You barely know me.”
Clint looked around the lot and chuckled. “True. But what can I say? I’m still a SEAL at heart. I like helping people. And you and Thomas need help. Your ex isn’t going to just go away on his own. I’ve dealt with a lot of people like him during my time in the military. I can handle him, make him leave you alone, if that’s what you want. I can teach you how to protect yourself and your son better too. If you’ll let me. I won’t even charge you for the lessons.”
She stared at him for a long moment and Clint lived and died in that short eternity. If she said no, he’d obey her wishes, even if it killed him to walk away. He didn’t want her and Thomas to become another set of statistics on the evening news. Then she chuckled and stared down at the mess of glass in the parking lot. “This is crazy, but okay. Don’t ask me why, but I trust you. Don’t make me regret that.”
Overwhelming relief swamped him and Clint couldn’t stop his grin. He held out his hand to her. “Got it.”
Leila raised her chin and met his gaze, shaking his hand. Her skin felt soft and warm against his, her grip strong and sure. He ignored the jolt of awareness zinging up from their point of contact. Heat flickered in her dark eyes before it vanished, letting him know he wasn’t the only one who felt this strange connection between them.
“Good.” Clint said. “Call the police. After they get here and do their thing, we’ll get Thomas’s car seat out of the back of your vehicle and put it in my truck. You can’t drive your car the way it is anyway and I’m guessing you need to pick up your son.”
As they drove toward the day care centre, an awkward silence fell. Leila felt the need to say something, anything, to fill up the space between them. She also felt the weird need to let him know that she wasn’t an idiot, allowing a dangerous criminal like Mike into her life.
“He wasn’t always that bad,” she said, staring out the passenger side window at the scenery passing by. “Not at first anyway. When I first met him, Mike was nice. He used to take me out to dinner and buy me nice clothes and gifts. At the time, he was working at a convenience store. I never questioned where the money came from—he said he made good overtime there.” She gave an ironic snort. “It wasn’t until we we’re engaged that I first learned about his gang involvement. Mike told me that those guys were like his family and they’d be my family too, if I did right by them. Meaning if I looked the other way while they committed their crimes.” She shrugged. “I wasn’t raised like that though. My mother and grandmother are devout Catholics. We’re big on guilt and doing the right thing.” Leila glanced over at Clint and gave him a sad smile.
“I begged him to leave it behind. He said he couldn’t cut ties with his friends, but that he’d stop committing crimes. I was dumb enough to believe him, and we got married. It didn’t take long before things started to go south for me and Mike. His gang was always hanging around. I didn’t bother hiding that I didn’t like them, which made Mike angry. I guess they made fun of him for not being able to keep me in line. He got really controlling and aggressive. Started monitoring my movements and would get angry when I did something he didn’t like. Even after he got abusive, I still loved him and wanted to try and make things work, especially after I found out I was pregnant with Thomas. But the first time he hit me after I found out I was pregnant was the night I left him. I couldn’t risk bringing my child into an abusive home.”
“What about him hurting you?” Clint asked, concern darkening his blue eyes.
“I didn’t matter. All I cared about was my baby.” Leila shook her head and stared out the windshield at the horizon where the sun was setting in the west. “I knew Mike had lied to me about leaving crime behind. After a while, he didn’t even bother trying to hide it. Before I ran, I gathered up as much information as I could and turned it over to the police on the condition that I wouldn’t have to testify. After that, I got as far as I could as fast as I could, then I hid until I thought I was safe. Mike was arrested and then convicted for drugs and grand theft auto, so I mistakenly thought I was in the clear. I filed for divorce while he was in SDCC, which really pissed him off. I’d planned to save up my money and move to a different town—maybe a different state—before he was released. But then he got out early on good behaviour and the notification they sent went to my old address. I had no idea he was on the streets again until I caught sight of him a few days ago. That’s when I decided I needed a gun. To keep me and Thomas safe. Violence is Mike’s greatest weapon and the only way to stop him is to show I’m stronger than him.”
“Wow.” Clint exhaled slow, his gaze narrowed. “You mentioned the gang being Mike’s family. What about your family?” Clint slowed for a red light and looked over at her. “Do you have anyone around here who could help you, besides me?”
“No. My father walked out on us when I was eight. I have no idea where he is anymore. I have a brother, but he lives in New York City. And my mother was here in Vegas for a while, but she’s back in Puerto Rico now to take care of my grandmother. She’s been asking me for a while now to move down there too, but I thought Thomas would have a better life here.”
“Understood.” The light turned green and he accelerated through the intersection, glancing in the rearview mirror periodically. Leila kept doing the same in the side mirror his truck, paranoid she’d find Mike or one of his friends following them. So far, there’d been no tail behind them, but it was only a matter of time before her ex made a reappearance. Guys like Mike didn’t give up easily. Clint signaled and switch lanes to turn onto the street where the day care was located. “Well, it’s good you came into my shop then. I know you barely know me, but you can trust me, Leila. I’ll do whatever I can to keep you saf
e and protect you and your son.” He turned into the lot of the day care centre and pulled up to the curb by the front door, shifting the transmission into Park. “Want me to come in with you?”
“Nah, I’ve got it. Thanks though.” She got out and reached into the back seat to grab her bag. Leila started to close the door, feeling a bit more hopefully than she had in days. She didn’t know Clint well, that was true, but she’d checked into him as best she could. There wasn’t a lot about him online—he didn’t seem to care much about social media—but there had been a news article after he’d taken over the shop, talking about his sterling military record and the commendations he’d received for courage and valor, risking himself to protect others in the direst of circumstances. She’d talked again to the friend who had recommended the shop. The woman’s husband used the range often and had nothing but praise for Clint. And she couldn’t help remembering how gentle he’d been with Thomas, and how Thomas had responded. Leila didn’t trust her own instincts, but her sweet baby seemed to have a sixth sense about people. He seemed to trust Clint, so she would, too. Wasn’t like she had much choice anyway.
She’d keep her head in the game and her heart out of the equation—no matter how attractive she found Clint—and when this was over, she’d walk away from him with gratitude and a better future to look forward to, once Mike was out of the picture. She leaned back into the front passenger side before closing the door and smiled. “Thanks again for your offer to help. It means a lot to me.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, returning her grin with one of his own. She ignored the tingle in her knees that it caused. Clint hiked his chin toward the entrance of the day care. “Now get inside and get that adorable kid so we can get back to my place and settle in for the night.”
5
“Here we are,” Clint said a few hours later as he flipped on the lights in his modest three-bedroom, one-story ranch home. He lived in Sunrise Manor on the outskirts of Vegas—a safe, quiet, blue-collar neighbourhood located close to his firing range. He wasn’t sure what kind of accommodations Leila was used to. When he’d taken her to her apartment so she could pack a bag, he’d been too busy guarding the hallway to take much notice of her living quarters, so he felt a bit nervous. He didn’t have people back to his house often. “Sorry, I didn’t really have a chance to clean beforehand, so…”
She walked past him into the great room and looked around the beige and white space, her expression unreadable. He put down the box with the crib they’d bought at the superstore up the road. “This is nice,” she said, glancing sideways at him. “Very modern and spacious.”
“Thanks.” He kept his place nice and neat, another remnant from his military days. And while some people would consider it plain, without a lot of mementos or knickknacks sitting around, that’s the way Clint preferred it. He’d learned early on in foster care that having a bunch of stuff around only increased your chances of having it stolen or left behind when you had to leave quickly, so he kept his things to a minimum. If there was something he really cared about, he kept it as close as possible to avoid losing it. Realizing she was still standing there, holding Thomas and staring at him, he cleared his throat, uncomfortable heat prickling up from beneath the collar of his T-shirt. Having this woman and her kid under his roof, under his protection, put him on edge like nothing else had. Most likely because he knew what a responsibility it was and because… well, if he was honest with himself, he cared.
It was too quick. It made no sense whatsoever. It went against everything in his loner MO.
Yet, he did.
Clint shook off the tension knotting the muscles between his shoulder blades and turned to head down the hall to his right. “The guest rooms are this way, though I use one as an office. You can set Thomas up in there if you like or keep him in the room with you.”
“He can sleep with me for now, since we won’t be here long,” Leila said, following him into the larger guest room on the left. “This is great. Thanks again for letting us crash here for a few days.”
“No problem.” He set the bags on the floor near the queen-sized bed, then stepped back toward the doorway. “I’ll, uh, let you get settled while I start dinner. Are steaks on the grill okay?”
“Perfect. I haven’t had a good home-cooked steak since my mom left. Medium well for me.” She smiled and set the baby’s carrier on the bed. “If you wouldn’t mind opening that bag on the left, there’s a grocery sack of food and snacks for Thomas I brought from home. Could you stick them in your fridge for me?”
“Sure thing.” He did as she asked him, unzipping the black duffle bag on the floor, doing his best not to notice the lacy under-things that brushed against his fingertips when he reached inside the bag. He pulled out the plastic sack then stepped back again, wondering when it had gotten so hot in there. He’d caught a whiff of her perfume wafting off the things she’d packed—cinnamon and sweet soap—and his pulse quickened without his consent. Perhaps inviting her to stay with him hadn’t been such a wise idea, considering his crazy reactions to her. Too late now though, as he watched her talking and laughing with Thomas as she put her things away. “Uh, I’ll go get dinner ready now. After dinner, we can…um…put that crib together, eh? Good times.”
Idiot.
“Okay.” She grinned over at him and winked, and he felt like a he’d been struck over the head with a happy stick. Ridiculous, really, since he knew relationships weren’t for him. They didn’t last. He’d learned that lesson earlier on, courtesy of his parents’ deaths and being shuffled around foster care for years. Sure, he’d dated, off and on, but nothing serious.
To be truthful, no woman had ever grabbed his attention enough to make him want to try.
Until now.
Cursing himself inwardly, he walked back down the hall to the great room, then into the attached open kitchen. This attraction between them couldn’t have happened at a worst time, with her in danger and him promising to protect her. Love made you weak, vulnerable. It made you make stupid decisions and Clint wasn’t a stupid guy.
Since retiring, he’d been focused on living a quiet, solitary life, running his gun range and minding his own business. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d dated anyone or taken a woman to bed. It just hadn’t been a priority for him. His life was simpler and less complicated when he kept to himself.
But involving himself with Leila and Thomas and their situation had just plunged him head first into a whole, deep ocean of issues, including the instant, undeniable connection they shared.
Sighing, he scrubbed a hand over his face, then gathered the supplies he’d need before carrying them outside to the grill. Staying busy helped clear his head and keep him on track. Now, if he could just get his libido on-board with the plan, he’d be all set.
“That was delicious,” Leila said, pushing back from the dining room table two hours later. She gathered the dirty dishes together and carried them all to the kitchen sink. “Best meal I’ve had in a while.”
“You don’t cook?” Clint asked, staying at the table to keep an eye on the baby and play with him.
“Not really. I mean, I can cook, I just usually don’t. You know how it is, being single.” The minute the words were out of her mouth, she flinched. Honestly, she didn’t know enough about him to say whether he had a girlfriend or not. There was no ring on his finger, but that didn’t mean squat these days. Leila was shocked by how much she wanted him to agree, to confirm that there was no one special in his life. Not that it was any of her business, but man, oh man. She hoped there wasn’t.
Which was silly. The last thing she needed right now was to get involved with a new man. Not with her crazy ex out of prison and on her tail. She needed to be focused on Thomas and keeping them both safe, not the sexy tingling she felt down under. When he didn’t answer right away, she hazarded a glance at him over her shoulder as she stuck the dishes in the dishwasher. He was laughing and cooing to little Thomas, telling him a story about the
toy car Clint held in his hand. Warmth squeezed her heart tight at the sweetness of it. He was good with kids and her poor son had gone so long without a father-figure in his life. Right now, he was too young to notice much, but that would change before long.
Soon, Leila’s influence alone wouldn’t be enough, no matter how hard she tired.
She turned back to the sink and blinked hard against the tears now stinging her eyes.
“Yeah,” Clint said, suddenly behind her. “I don’t really cook much either, unless you consider grilling high cuisine.”
Startled, Leila turned fast to find him not two feet away. He’d moved to the kitchen and set Thomas’s carrier on the island, her son now fast asleep inside it, without her even realizing. She’d been so wrapped up in her thoughts about him and her future that she hadn’t noticed. Not good for a woman who needed to on guard at all times.
Leila leaned back against the edge of the sink and crossed her arms, putting a bit more distance. It wasn’t enough to stop her from feeling the heat of him through her scrub shirt and smell his scent—soap and fabric softener and warm, clean male. Feeling oddly nervous, she shuffled her feet, the rubber soles of her white sneakers squeaking against his hardwood floor. She’d changed after work, but imagined she probably still looked a mess after her earlier encounter with Mike in the parking lot. At least it felt that way. She did her best not to fidget. She shouldn’t care about how she looked, about whether Clint found her attractive. And yet, she did.
“Well, whatever you call it, dinner was great. Thanks again,” she said. “I, uh, should probably get that crib together. It’s almost time to put Thomas down for the night.” She sidled out of the danger zone near Clint then took off for the guest bedroom, exhaling her pent-up breath as she went. He was so strong and masculine and handsome and…