Page 75 of Desperate Actions

But he only gets one.

I stand slowly and wait for the next hit. But before he can lunge at me again, Aella throws herself between us.

Her small hands press against his chest, her eyes wide, frantic.

“Oh my God! Daddy, stop it!”

I frown and step forward, my body immediately moving on instinct. I tuck my wife behind me, shielding her from whatever the hell is coming next.

Angel’s nostrils flare.

“What the fuck? You think I’d hit my own daughter?”

I meet his gaze head-on, ignoring the dull ache in my jaw.

“No, sir,” I say, rolling my neck, testing the damage. “But I don’t want her getting caught between me and danger ever.”

Something flickers in his expression.

Approval? Maybe.

Or at the very least—respect.

Before he can respond, the sound of a car speeding toward us pulls both our attention.

In a fluid motion, Angel and I both step in front of our women, bodies tensing and bracing for whatever is coming.

Then I grin.

Because I recognize that car.

And the man behind the wheel.

“Guess it’s reunion time,” I murmur.

“Who is that?” Aella whispers, gripping onto the front of my jacket, her small hands clutching me tight.

“Looks like my pops is here,” I say, and now I’m smiling.

She trembles beside me and that smile goes away fast. Early spring in the tri-state area is unpredictable as hell.

Today, it’s overcast and chilly, a sharp contrast to the heat still simmering in my blood from Vegas or maybe Angel’s little welcome-home punch.

I glance down at Aella, noticing the way she hugs herself, the way her thin sweater does nothing to protect her from the cold.

I frown.

“You cold?”

Her big green eyes flick up to mine, sheepish.

“Oh, um, a little,” she shrugs.

I don’t even think about it.

I just pull off my suit jacket and drape it over her shoulders, adjusting it until it fits just right.

Her pretty green eyes sparkle, and she bites her bottom lip, looking up at me with something soft and warm and utterly fucking beautiful.

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