Page 27 of Jenna's Threatened Sanctuary

Calvin flopped back against the plush pillows lining his couch. As happy as he was having Dean close, he was probably right—adding one more thing to his already complicated life could make his whole world explode.

A small knock sounded at the still-open door, and Jenna poked in her head. “Can we come in?”

Boo barked and pushed past Calvin, tail wagging wildly.

Oliver giggled and reached for the dog.

He sucked in a deep breath, preparing himself, then forced a smile. “Yes. Please.”

She stepped inside with Oliver on her hip and a duffle bag on her shoulder.

A small flutter of excitement rippled along his skin as the little boy waved. Maybe inviting Jenna and her son into his home wouldn’t be the hard part. Maybe the tough part would be letting them leave in the morning.

An hour later,Jenna finally got Oliver settled in the guest room. She watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest. The dimglow of the nightlight in the corner of the room showed the soft curves of his face, and the quiet purr of the sound machine soothed her nerves. The terrifying feeling of helplessness had swarmed over her like a bustle of angry bees several times in the last few days, but not in this moment.

In this moment, her son was asleep—peaceful and safe.

On a breath, she turned away from the guest room and slowly made her way down the narrow hallway. The familiar ache in her chest intensified as she padded barefoot to Calvin’s office. She needed to peek in and make sure he was okay before she settled in for a long night.

Not wanting to make Calvin uncomfortable by invading his personal space, she lingered in the doorway.

Calvin sat at his desk, his elbow propped on the hard surface with his head cradled in his hand. He hadn’t stopped working since she showed up an hour before. She wasn’t sure if he was that immersed in research or avoiding her.

She cleared her throat, gaining his attention.

He closed his eyes on a long blink then fixed a glassy-eyed stare on her.

A lecture to take it easy sat at the tip of her tongue. “How are you feeling?”

He raised a shoulder. “Okay.”

“Oliver’s asleep. I hope you don’t mind Boo laying at the foot of the bed. He wouldn’t listen when I told him to get down.” She wouldn’t mention she didn’t ask too firmly for Boo to leave Oliver’s side. Having the dog so close gave her a sense of peace she didn’t take lightly.

Chuckling, Calvin scratched the dark scruff on his chin. “Dog hair has taken up every corner of this house already. A little more on the guest bed doesn’t matter. Especially if it makes Oliver happy.”

What would make Oliver happy was not being ripped from his home, but she couldn’t say that. “Did you and Dean find anything else before he left?”

Calvin had filled her in about Dean helping him with Stella’s financials. The idea of Stella’s personal information being picked apart made an icky feeling coat her stomach, but it had to be done.

“He’s still trying to follow the money trail from home. He texted a little bit ago that he hasn’t uncovered names on the accounts transferring money to Stella, but the locations are from different states. Indiana, Nebraska, Texas. He’s like a dog with a bone and won’t stop until he figures it out.”

“Hmm,” Jenna said, uncertain what else to say on the subject.

Calvin closed his computer then shifted back on his chair.

The familiar tension weaved between them, causing pain to spike in her head. “I appreciate you letting us stay here tonight.”

“It’s no problem.” A ghost of a smile lifted his lips. “Oliver’s a sweetheart. He’s lucky to have you.”

The wistful expression that took over his face had Jenna taking a step forward. “Well, I’m lucky to have you on my side right now. You’ll never know how much this means to me. You know…after everything.”

Calvin sighed. “I thought we agreed to keep this professional. I can’t talk anymore about…everything.” He circled his hand in the air.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. This is a business relationship and nothing more. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She turned to leave, and something shiny on the built-in shelf caught her attention. “Is that a gun?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll make sure to put it in the safe before I head to bed.” He gestured toward the metal box on top of the cherry-wood filing cabinet. “I know you hate guns.”

She lifted the corner of her mouth. He didn’t know everything, but now wasn’t the time to correct him. Or tell him about the shooting lessons she’d taken after their breakup. A cathartic exercise that not only released her stress but boosted her confidence.

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