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Protecting Her Secret Son. Regan BlackЧитать онлайн книгу.

Protecting Her Secret Son - Regan Black


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through it, Shannon.”

      Her hands fluttered under his like trapped butterflies. “I have to be alone. They said normal.” She sucked in a breath, held it while she lifted her gaze to the ceiling, blew it out slowly. “I am not going to lose it again.”

      “It’s okay if you do.” He let her go, missing the contact more than he should.

      “No.” She took another deep breath in and out. “No, I don’t really date.” Her eyes slid to a point over his shoulder. “Saturday night is usually Aiden, me, pizza and a movie.” She got through without another tear.

      “Nicely done.” He admired her grit and resolve. “You and Rachel never go out?”

      “Well, sure. A few times a year.”

      “They don’t know your routine,” he said, theorizing on the fly. “It’s another hoop for you to jump through, buying them time.”

      “That fits Bradley’s methods,” she allowed.

      “It’s something to consider.” He released her hands and picked up his keys. If he was lucky, it would give her mind something to do besides worry. “Now let’s get moving. We’ll go back to your place and I’ll stay over. Tonight we’ll go out, as if we’d made plans like normal people.”

      “Like a date?” She flicked her hands up and down. “Look at me. I can’t do that.”

      He swallowed the immediate protest. From his vantage point, she looked beautiful and he was sure she could do anything she set her mind to. Under the sadness and the stress, the qualities that had always drawn him to her were still there. She personified commitment and tenacity, managed to keep her balance between a demanding job and her young son. The packaging of her pretty face and lovely curves was simply icing on the cake.

      “I’m trying to help, Shannon.”

      “I know.” More tears shimmered in those wide brown eyes. “A date is hardly part of the routine for me. Dating me isn’t in your routine, either.”

      He made a mental note to figure out what she meant by that. Later. This wasn’t about him. “We need to buy time for Grant,” he said. “And I don’t see a better option than the club. It’s the safest place to talk with him and we’ll be surrounded by friends. It’s bad luck for them that they attacked right when you started dating someone new.”

      With a roll of her eyes, she shook her head. “No. My ex is behind this...Just, no.” She used her shirtsleeves to blot her eyes. “Take me home and I’ll find a way to deal with him on my own.”

      “No, right back,” he said, bracing for an argument. He knew all about her independent streak and her pride on the job. He’d seen her house, noticed all the evidence of the same traits. “This isn’t a situation you can ‘deal with.’ Routine or not, you’re not going through this alone.”

      “Daniel.”

      Hearing her say his name with an exasperated sigh only spurred him on. “Remember what Grant said. Alone, you’re a sitting duck and what good will that do Aiden?”

      He’d never been happier to have a woman shoot daggers at him. “That’s low.”

      “You’ll find I get creative when lives are on the line.”

      Her lips parted and snapped shut. Nudging him aside, she walked over and turned out the kitchen light. He interpreted the move as a minor victory, though he was sure there were plenty of battles ahead of them.

      * * *

      “We’ll swing by my place,” he said, meandering through the neighborhood side streets. “I pack fast, don’t worry. We’ll be settled at your place right away. Later, we’ll meet Ed and the guys at the Escape Club for the concert. We’ll stay for one set, get Grant’s take on any news and go home.”

      “Home to my place.” She drummed her fingertips on her cell phone.

      “That’s right.”

      “You may want to pack a bed, too. Aiden’s will be too small for you.”

      He gave her a long glance while they waited for a traffic light to change. “The couch is all I need.”

      She didn’t reply and he couldn’t get a read on her with her face turned toward the window. The sound of his phone caught her attention. The hands-free setting showed Ed’s name on the truck’s radio display. “I’ll call him back.”

      “You should pick it up. It’s probably about the charity house.”

      He did as she asked, hoping for the best. He’d bitten off a big goal aiming to finish the project before he went back to his normal shifts. Suppliers had the materials standing by, and Daniel had put his best people on the job, including Shannon. Despite his father’s doubts, he was confident they could pull it off.

      “What’s up?”

      “I went by Officer Caldwell’s house,” Ed said, referring to the pro bono project. “Found a water leak under the bathtub.”

      “We suspected we’d have to re-pipe.”

      “Yeah, but this has been long and slow. Subfloor is rotted nearly through.”

      Shannon winced in sympathy.

      Daniel sighed. Nothing kept a man as humble as working construction. “Did you send the material order to the office?” Jennings kept a warehouse of the basic materials on hand for smaller jobs and situations like this one. Based on his recollection of last month’s inventory sheet, pulling from the stock wouldn’t pinch any of his Dad’s projects.

      “I’ve got it worked up and ready to send over. Just giving you a heads-up.”

      Daniel forced himself to smile, hoping it translated into easy confidence over the phone. “I appreciate that, man.”

      “You’re meeting us at the concert tonight?”

      “Wouldn’t miss it,” Daniel promised, raising his eyebrows at Shannon.

      She gave him a thumbs-up with plenty of sarcasm.

      “Great. My wife’s been talking about this one since you gave us the tickets.”

      “And the first round’s on me even if I’m not tending bar,” Daniel said, the smile on his face feeling natural now.

      “You’ve met Ed’s wife, right?” he asked after Ed hung up.

      “She’s great,” Shannon replied. “Lying to her won’t be easy.”

      “In your shoes, they would do the same thing,” he said. “When it’s over, I bet they’ll be the first to hold a celebratory barbecue.”

      “They do that nearly every nice weekend since we put in that backyard kitchen.”

      “Still.” Checking the clock on the radio display, he gave thanks for the weekend. As it was Saturday, he figured he had about fifteen minutes before his dad called about the unexpected order for materials rather than the stingy five minutes max if it were a weekday. Plenty of time to pack. “Here we are.”

      “You live here?”

      “Don’t you like it?”

      “It looks great.” She hopped out of the truck and perused the other houses on the block. “Not quite what I pictured for you.”

      He laughed it off, though he wondered what she did see when she looked at him. “Someday you’ll have to explain that.” Pulling out his key for the side door, he led her around. “Short-term thing,” he explained. He caught her eyeing the temporary stairs and the cracked siding doing little to protect the crawl space. “And it’s torn all to hell right now.”

      “I’ve seen worse,” she said.

      “You and me both.” He opened the door to the honest scent


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