Page 22 of Love Me Dangerous

By the time I arrive at the childcare center, the drop-off timeframe is well underway, allowing me to use the mild chaos as cover. Eddi gives me a stern glance as I slip by her. I tie my apron and get to work.

“Hey, Sofie.”

I spin around. It’s Teague Lennox, who’s latest rom-com was the talk of the summer. Bumping elbows with celebrities at Finn River Ranch isn’t new, but those with children usually travel with their own nanny or au pair. Especially those who are single parents, like Mr. Lennox. His wife died from a rare form of cancer when their son was just a baby. So tragic.

“Good morning, Mr. Lennox.”

His son Arlo is gripping his hand tight, his sweet face tense with worry.

“It’s Teague, remember?” Mr. Lennox says to me with a flash of his winning smile.

I ignore this—it’s against policy and also weird. But Mr. Lennox has already turned his attention to his son.

“See? She’s here today,” he says to Arlo. “You and Miss Sofie are going to have fun.”

“That’s right.” I squat down and give the little boy a warm smile. “We can build a racetrack. Or we can play dress up. Or paint?”

Arlo glances up at his dad as if looking for one last dose of reassurance.

“I’ll be back after lunch. Pool time, remember?”

“CanMiss Sofie come too?”

“That’s such a nice invitation,” I interrupt so Mr. Lennox isn’t on the spot. “But that’s your special time with your dad.”

“You’re special too,” Arlo says, his big brown eyes so earnest.

My heart slowly melts. “You are so sweet. Maybe some other time.”

Arlo lets go of his dad’s hand and takes mine. “Okay.”

Mr. Lennox shoots me a look of relief over the top of Arlo’s head. We walk to the row of cubbies along the side wall so Arlo can store his things.

I expect Mr. Lennox to head for the door, but he follows.

It’s kind of annoying—we’ve said our goodbyes. If he lingers, it’s confusing for the child and can make the separation stressful.

While Arlo sits to undo the Velcro on his shoes, Mr. Lennox slips a card from his pocket and leans closer. “Could we talk sometime?”

I shoot him a curious glance.

He nods to Arlo, who is seconds away from realizing his dad is still here.

I take the card. Mostly to encourage Mr. Lennox to go.

“Call me this weekend,” he says in a low tone, then steps around an arriving group of parents.

I tuck the card into my pocket just as Arlo reaches for my hand. He’s got his brave face on, and I give him a warm smile and lead him into the play area.

It’s only later that I get a peek at the card. It’s made of thick white paper, and the ink is a shiny black, like it’s wet. I get a feeling it’s his private number.

What does he want from me?

Chapter Seven

ZACH

The cool,alpine breeze ripples through the tall grass flanking the ridge as I hurry away from the chairlift.

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