Bullet Proof (Love Undercover Book 4)

by LK Shaw

  Pablo reached over Maisie's head and palmed my cheek. My breath hitched in my chest at his touch, and I caught myself leaning into it.

  "You're not taking me away from anything. I want to spend time with both of you. If I didn't want to take you out, I wouldn't have offered. So, how about we figure out where we want to go so this little munchkin doesn't starve to death?”

  He pulled his hand away from my face and started tickling and growling at Maisie, who giggled and laughed. The two wrestled for a minute until Pablo picked her up and set her on her feet in front of him. Then he rose and placed his hand out, palm up. I let him help me up.

  “I guess that’s settled then. Let me just take Maisie to the bathroom first before we go. We'll be right back."

  "Take your time."

  "Come on, baby, let's get ready to go," I said.

  She and I quickly did our business, and then we were back in the living room. Pablo remained patiently waiting. I picked up my bag from the floor near the door.

  “I think we're ready."

  "Excellent."

  I held on to Maisie's hand and the three of us headed out into the hall. It was weird, yet nice having Pablo with us as we made our way down the stairs. He opened the door for us, and I stepped past him into the warmth of the sunny day still holding onto my daughter's hand.

  "Do you have any idea where you'd like to go? Anything special you're hungry for?" he asked.

  "Pasketti," Maisie sang out obviously already knowing what she wanted.

  "Hmmm. Actually Italian does sound pretty good. I've kind of been..." my voice trailed off and my steps slowed, causing Maisie to glance up at me. She started to speak, but I shushed her, squeezing her hand. On the sidewalk next to a blacked out SUV stood River and a couple of guys I'd seen him talking to before. I tried not to be obvious, but I moved closer to Pablo and pulled Maisie into my side.

  "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice low.

  "It's him," I whispered out the side of my mouth.

  Pablo went rigid next to me, but slowly relaxed, and I felt his fingers thread through mine. His touch comforted me a bit.

  "Everything's going to be fine," he said in a low voice before raising it again to a normal pitch. "So, if my girls want spaghetti, Italian it is."

  Then we were right next to the men. I couldn’t stop myself. I caught River's gaze, but I quickly glanced away. The three of them stopped their conversation as we walked past. My whole body trembled and Maisie was quiet at my side.

  Pablo, on the other hand, continued talking as though nothing unusual was going on. My fingers squeezed his hard, but he didn't even flinch. "There's either Bruna's or Franco's. They're not far from here. I've been to both and you can't go wrong with either one."

  Maybe because of how calm he was, I was able to answer without a nervous catch to my voice. "We haven't been to Franco's in a while. Why don't we go there?"

  "Baby girl, does Franco's sound good to you too?" Pablo tilted his head to look down at Maisie.

  She nodded, the small movement surprising me. We moved further and further away from the men, but I was still acutely tuned in to any sound beside cars driving by, the kids playing basketball across the street, or our footsteps on the sidewalk. There was nothing else though.

  “I can already taste the breadsticks," I added, trying to let my body relax a bit. I loosened the death grip on Pablo's fingers.

  "You and me both," he said.

  Finally, we were no longer within hearing distance of River or his friends. I laid my head on Pablo's shoulder. "Thank you."

  He gently squeezed my hand, rubbing his thumb against mine in a soothing gesture. “I told you everything would be fine."

  I should have trusted him not to let anything happen to Maisie and me. She was still quiet, so I raised my head and looked down at her. "You okay, baby?"

  "Yes, Mama. I not like that man."

  “I know you don't, honey."

  "Hey munchkin," Pablo addressed Maisie. "You don't have to worry about him. He's not going to bother you again."

  "You promise?"

  "Promise."

  I sent him a sideways glance. There was such conviction behind that word. How could he be so sure?

  He pulled his keys out of his pocket and the beep beep of a car lock disengaging came from the sedan a few feet in front of us. The headlights blinked twice with the sound. Shit, the car seat. I hadn't even thought about it. Seeing River had thrown me off.

  "Everything alright?" Pablo asked at my hesitation.

  "Yeah, I just forgot Maisie's car seat."

  “I'm sorry. I didn't even think about it."

  "Me either.” I wasn't keen on heading back in the direction we just came. Not right now anyway.

  "Do you have your keys? I’ll run and get it."

  "Are you sure?” I asked.

  Pablo opened the back door and Maisie climbed in. He turned with his hand out. “Positive.”

  “Thank you.”

  I pointed out my car just in case he couldn’t recall it, and within a few minutes, he was back. Once I got the car seat and Maisie situated, he opened my door for me as well and closed it behind me. Once he was at the wheel, he glanced into the backseat. "Hey, munchkin, you ready to pig out on some bread sticks and spaghetti?"

  Hearing her giggle eased any remaining tension in my muscles from our brief encounter moments ago. “I'm ready."

  "Then here we go."

  We hadn't made it a block before Pablo reached over the console between us. Once again, he threaded his fingers through mine, and it wasn’t just for show. The entire drive to the restaurant he continued holding my hand as though reassuring me that I had nothing to worry about. For the first time in five years, I actually began to believe that my life would be okay.

  Chapter 17

  The restraint I'd displayed at seeing Oliver standing outside with those Los Lobos members would have made my family proud. Especially considering how scared Michele and Maisie had been and the danger he could have been putting her in. Not since the day outside the pool had Maisie been that quiet. Michele's fingers had been trembling when I'd slid mine through them. No doubt her daughter's had been as well. My hand had throbbed for several minutes from how tight she'd been gripping onto it.

  I'd caught Oliver watching us, and I'd wanted to curse at him to not draw special attention to us. If shit went down with him and Los Lobos, and they thought he knew Michele or had a connection to her, they could try to use her as some sort of leverage. I swore to god, if that happened, the Captain would have to tear me away from him before I sent him to the hospital. Or worse.

  Thankfully I’d kept my cool, which filtered over into Michele, who’d impressed me. She hadn’t panicked, but rather played along with us being a happy family on our way to dinner. Except it hadn’t felt like playing. It had felt all too right, in fact. The feel of her skin between my fingertips. The scent of her washing over me as she leaned in close and laid her head on my shoulder. It had done something to me. I wanted to see where this would lead.

  "Dinner was delicious. Thank you so much," Michele said on our walk back to the car.

  "You're welcome. I’m glad you enjoyed it. It's been too long since I've been to Franco's. I forgot how good their food is."

  It had been a wonderful night. Maisie kept up most of the conversation, but I'd learned a few things about Michele, including how patient she was. Nothing seemed to ruffle her. She took everything in stride. I loved seeing the dynamic between the two of them. These two loved each other fiercely. And I wanted to be a part of that.

  “I'm pretty sure I'm not going to need to eat the whole day tomorrow. I can't believe I stuffed my face like that. I'm a little embarrassed," she groaned once she settled into the passenger seat.

  "No need to be. I ate twice as much as you. Then again, I do have all these muscles I need to feed." I mockingly flexed my bicep.

  Michele covered her face and mumbled something behind her hands, while Maisie hoo
ted in the backseat.

  "You gots lots of muscles, Mister Pablo," she chimed in.

  "See, even Maisie thinks so." I chuckled and nudged Michele's arm before tugging one of her hands off her face and holding it in mine. I couldn't stop touching her. She turned her head with a pout. “I'm never going to live that down."

  “I promise I'll only bring it up when I need a boost to my self-confidence. It's nice knowing that you think of me in that way."

  She didn't look convinced. Before long, we were back on her street, and I was finding a place to park. Oliver and his buddies were gone. Michele helped Maisie out of the car and the three of us walked to the apartment, stopping quickly to put the car seat back. This time, Maisie strolled between us.

  My heart skipped at the sudden feel of tiny fingers clasping my hand.

  Michele hesitated outside her door. Then she seemed to come to a decision, because she whirled and in a rush of breath started speaking. "Would you like to come in? I have to give Maisie a bath and read her a bedtime story, and it takes her forever to go to sleep, but if you want to hang out for a little bit, then you're welcome to come in. But only if you don't have something to do. Because if you do, I totally understand."

  Man, this woman was adorable when she was nervous. And completely irresistible, without even knowing it.

  “I can stay for a little while."

  "Okay, great." Michele's expression tightened with nervousness again. “I don't have cable, but if you want you can turn the TV on. I'm hoping we won't be too long in the bathtub. If it gets too late and you have to leave, just holler."

  I stepped forward and palmed her jaw. “I'm not in any rush. Take your time with your daughter. I'll still be here when you come out. I'm not going anywhere."

  "Okay." She took Maisie's hand and the two of them disappeared down the hallway.

  I settled on the couch, pulled out my phone, and started checking my emails.

  Lots of splashing and giggles floated down the hallway, and I couldn't help but relish the sound. I'd been fascinated with babies after Ines' birth. She had been the happiest infant, never crying. She would bat her long lashes up at me whenever I'd peer over the edge of her crib, and I'd fallen head over heels in love with her.

  I'd decided even at the age of six that I wanted to be a dad. If our father ever asked one of us to help, which was rare, I was the first one to volunteer. I'd fed her. Changed her diapers. Watched her grow up into this amazing woman who had a daughter of her own. I wanted that too.

  Rapid footsteps, along with Michele calling her daughter's name, drew my attention over my shoulder just in time to see a pajama-clad Maisie rush down the hallway toward me. Her hair was wet and slicked back, and in her hand, yet another book.

  "Mister Pablo, read me a bedtime story. Pretty please." She dove onto the couch next to me.

  Michele hustled into view seconds later, her hair pulled up in a knot, cheeks flushed, and her shirt wet in places.

  "You look like you wrestled with a wet monkey," I said with amusement.

  She glanced down at herself with a shake of her head. "Somebody loves to see how high she can make the water splash if she slaps it."

  "Can you blame her?" I looked down at the somebody in question. "Who wouldn't want to know how high it goes, right?"

  Maisie nodded in agreement, while Michele sighed with a grin on her lips. "Don't encourage her."

  "Mama, Mister Pablo said he readed me a bedtime story," she announced.

  Her mother crossed her arms and stared down with a steely glare at the munchkin currently getting my side wet. "Oh, he did, did he? Because all I heard was you telling him to read it to you."

  “I askeded pretty please. I promise."

  A little leery about getting between their discussion and possibly undermining Michele's authority and risking her anger, I cautiously added my support of Maisie. "She did ask pretty please."

  Michele threw up her hands good-naturedly. "Man, I'm not going to win this one with you two am I? Alright, but only one story”—she emphasized with a single pointed finger—“young lady, and then it's time for bed."

  "Okay." She handed me the book and curled up next to me, her wet head pressed against my arm. It was one of the best feelings ever.

  Sandwiching her daughter between us, Michele took her place on the other side, tucked her feet up underneath her and propped her head on her arm against the back of the couch. I started to read. It wasn't long before the weight next to me became heavier as Maisie sagged against me, her eyes closed and her breathing soft. My voice grew quieter until I trailed off and gently shut the book. Neither her mother nor I spoke for a minute, waiting to see if she'd wake up, but she remained still.

  "You're so good with her. She's never been like this with anybody before. You must be some kind of toddler whisperer," Michele joked.

  I shook my head. "Nah, I just think that kids can sense when people genuinely like them, and they respond to that. It's body language and how a person speaks to them. It sounds bad, but they're like dogs in that they can recognize friend or foe. I've always adored kids and Maisie can feel that vibe from me."

  Michele was silent a moment longer, her gaze unfocused like she was elsewhere. Then she blinked and came back, but her expression was flat like her thoughts had been unpleasant. "That actually makes a lot of sense. I wish I had her same instinct about people. Anyway, I should probably get her laid down."

  She rose slowly, trying not to disturb her daughter.

  "Would you like me to take her?" I asked.

  "No, that's okay. Thank you though. I'll just be a minute." Carefully, she picked up Maisie, whose eyes flickered open and drifted closed with a slight murmur and carried her down the hall. I waited patiently for a few minutes and then she was back.

  “I probably should have asked you this an hour ago, but would you like something to drink? I don't have much to choose from though. Water, milk, or a juice box," she said with a small lift of her shoulder.

  "Maybe some water." I wasn't really thirsty, but there was a new tension in her.

  She wasn't the only one feeling a bit jittery. This was technically two dates for us, which meant she was only one date short of the longest dating spree I'd ever had.

  "Here you go." She handed me the glass and our fingers brushed. A jolt hit me whenever we'd touched, but I always managed to mask my reaction to her. But this time, it seared me, sending a spike of heat straight up my arm. I didn't hide my reaction. Instead, my gaze bore into Michele's, and I let her see exactly the effect she had on me.

  Chapter 18

  I couldn't remember being this nervous with a guy before. Not even with Warren when he'd first started paying attention to me. Back then, I'd been a naive, innocent child who had no idea the true consequences of, well, of anything. In the last five years I'd learned a lot. Including the need to be cautious.

  The heat I'd hoped to see in Pablo's eyes was no longer hidden. An answering fever began to burn low in my belly, the sizzle spreading until my whole body was on fire.

  "You're standing there like I'm going to grope you the minute you sit down."

  I blinked and my gaze met Pablo's. He was staring up at me with a bemused expression. Flustered, I took a seat on the couch. "Sorry, I guess I'm just a little nervous."

  He cocked his head at my confession. "You don't say?"

  Against my will, a bubble of laughter popped out of me, and I sagged against the sofa back. "Is it that obvious?"

  "Maybe a little. What are you nervous about?" He sounded genuinely curious.

  My gaze hovered somewhere between Pablo's shoulder and his chin. “Everything, actually. I'm worried that I'm not good enough for you. That you're going to realize dating a woman with a kid isn't your thing. I worry you're going to break my heart. My daughter's heart. I'm worried that things right now are too perfect—that you're too perfect. I worry I'm going to close my eyes, and the moment I open them, reality is going to burst in and destroy the perfect world
I feel like I've been living in for the first time in my life."

  I felt both sick and relieved at the same time after blurting it all out like that. Pablo had that effect on me. It was like he wouldn't let me hide behind all my insecurities no matter how hard I tried. Afraid to see how he reacted to me word vomiting every single one of my feelings like that, I still didn't meet his eyes.

  "That's a lot to be worried about. If you talk to Ines, she'll be happy to share with you all the ways I'm not perfect. Maybe that will make you feel better."

  I huffed out a short bark of amusement at that. "It sounds so silly now that I've said it out loud."

  “None of your feelings are silly,” he said, scooting a little closer and lightly touching my arm. “I have a confession to make."

  That had me meeting his gaze. "What's that?"

  “I'm probably just as nervous as you are. For some of the same reasons."

  What did Pablo have to be scared about? The man had everything. Looks, charm, kindness, a protective side that made me feel like I wasn’t all alone. Best of all, Maisie seemed to love him. I couldn't figure out why he was still single. "You?"

  "Yeah, me. I think about our age difference. You still have your whole life ahead of you, and I wonder why you would have any interest in a nearly crippled guy practically old enough to be your father. I also worry that I'm going to break your heart and Maisie's heart. Not intentionally, of course, but there's always a chance it could happen. That's a lot of pressure to make sure I get shit right."

  My brain homed in on the fact that Pablo liked me. I focused so hard on that part of his speech that I nearly missed the rest of it. Wait, huh? "What in the world are you talking about? Old? Crippled? You have a small limp. That's not crippled. And you're not old enough to be my father.”