Page 126 of Offside Angel

That’s why I hired Hank.

He meets Aiden at school every morning, watches him all day, and then hands control to Evan at pickup. It’s just another layer of security. Another bit of insurance. One less thing for me to worry about.

Still, my list of worries could fill phone books.

I hate that I might be handing some of that anxiety to Aiden, too. Last night at bedtime, he asked me why he needed a bodyguard at all.

“Is there a bad guy after me?” he asked, eyes wide with fear.

I told him the truth. As much as I could, anyway. Even though it broke my heart.

“I’m doing everything I can to protect you,” I assured him. “It’s why I hired Hank. He is there to make sure no one gets close enough to hurt you. You’ll be safe.”

“So… someone wants to hurt me?”

“No. Of course not. But…” How do you tell a five-year-old that someone might want to rip his family apart? How do I explain that he’s nothing more than a pawn in Dante’s game?

How do I explain that I’ll fucking kill Dante if he touches my son?

“Is it Mommy?” he asked softly.

It’s like I could see his innocence shattering in front of my eyes, and I was the one holding the hammer.

I wrapped my arm around him. “I’m going to protect you and your mom, no matter what. You are both going to be safe, okay? That’s what’s important.”

Aiden let it go and he didn’t have any more questions for me this morning, but I still wonder what he makes of all of this. Will his life be an endless maze of guards and security systems and locked doors? Or will Dante be gone before any of this shit can traumatize my kid?

Those thoughts are swirling around my head when Aiden gasps, pulling my focus.

He’s staring down the hall, his mouth split in a wide-open grin. “Princess.”

I follow his gaze and the noise in my head goes fuzzy.

Before I know what I’m doing, I’m moving down the hall, only one thought in my head.

Mine.

“You’re a fucking goddess,” I breathe.

Mira waves me off, but her dark waves slip over her shoulder and her red-painted lips tilt into a smile. They match the burgundy of her dress.

The material traces a low line across her chest—a line I plan to follow with my tongue later. And I have devious plans for her thigh-high slit.

“You look good yourself.” Her green eyes slide down my suit and back up, her cheeks turning pink. “Ready to come home with a neck full of medals?”

I loop my arm around her waist, pulling her close because I can’t help myself. “There are no medals.”

“Trophies, then.”

“No trophies, either.” I lean in, my lips moving against the shell of her ear. “Except for you.”

She pulls back just far enough to bat her long lashes at me. “Being called a trophy wife is not the compliment you think it is.”

“That’s only because you have no idea how well I treat my trophies.”

She smiles—her full, vibrant smile that knocks me back a half-step—and I start to consider if maybe we should skip the team’s awards ceremony and stay here.

Then Daniel clears his throat behind me. “Just thought I’d remind you two that we’re still back here. You know, in case you’d forgotten.”

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