Page 62 of The SEALs' Single Mom Baby Surprise

I’m fucking breaking inside. The threat and real possibility that Alistair will make this official if I don’t respond to him. That he’ll go through with it.

That he’ll take my baby away from me…

“It’s none of your business, Jack. Do not get involved.”

Because if he does, he’s only going to make things worse. He’ll guarantee that Alistair takes action.

27

JACK

Sloane looks so haunted, even as she fights me, which if that’s the only way she’ll let me hold onto her—and I putlet memildly—then she can fight me.

No matter what she says, this has become my business. My gender gets a bad rap, but no one can be around this woman for this long… get to touch her and be touched by her, to have her in bed with them… and not care about her.

And fuck, I’m feeling territorial and offended that her ex thinks this will work.

I tap Cole to sit with her. His steely, silent resolve will give her something steady to lean against because I cannot leave this alone.

In my car, I make another phone call to a lawyer friend, a high-powered attorney with outrageous rates and a no-loss case rate. She might not work child custody cases, but she can get me in touch with someone who’s a rock star at this kind of thing.

After giving her the rough rundown, she’s onboard and ready to put some feelers out for us. I don’t know if it will come down to a big court case or if simply having a top-notch lawyer put together some paperwork will be enough to get this abusive asshole to back the fuck off.

Finding his class schedule and office hours is easy enough. He’s in Psych 101 right now and will have an hour in his office afterward.

I’ll be waiting for him.

When I get to the school, my instincts tell me not to ambush him at his office, so I find his car, lean against the hood, and wait him out. He’s there ten minutes into his office hours, escorting a young woman who can’t be more than eighteen toward me.

The swoop of his salt and pepper hair looks intentionally messy, like he’s trying to use pomade to display himself as twenty years younger than he is. His trimmed beard is more gray than brown. His tailored suit—even though his jacket is a higher-end tweed—gives off the pompous air I expect of him.

He pauses when he sees me, turning to the girl and making some excuse that I can’t hear before she pouts and turns back toward Francis Hall. Alistair looks me up and down, assessing. I know what he sees.

What any hack psychologist will see when they look at me. A big brute who uses my size to intimidate. Therefore, I’m not going to be too hard to talk in circles. He takes my silent stare as confirmation that I’ll use my fists before I use my words.

He’s not completely wrong. I do use my size to intimidate when I have to. It’s the easiest option most of the time. And I certainly have no problem using my fists. But I’m far too smart to lay a hand on this man.

Even if I’d love to kill him and make his body disappear, that can create blowback on Sloane, and I don’t want to do that.

That’s why I have my phone recording in my pocket and a set of questions to ask him to press him into admitting something incriminating.

“Is there a reason you’re denting my car hood in particular?” A flash in his eyes tells me that he already knows who I am. How? Is he spying on Sloane? Keeping tabs?

Why haven’t we noticed?

“Yeah. Looking for you, Professor Alistair Fitzwilliam.”

“Doctor.DoctorFitzwilliam.”

“My bad, Doc.” I nod at the girl still walking back toward the building. “A student of yours?”

“Indeed.” This douche is biting back a frown, trying to hide just how much I’m pissing him off already. “How did you know that was my car?”

“Just looked for the most pretentious one and knew I’d find you.” I spread my arms. “And look at that, it worked.”

His scoff is drowning in disdain. “Let me guess, you’re one of the three men Sloane’s run off with in this childish act of rebellion?”

Anger flares deep, molten hot, churning my insides with the desire to punch him square in the nose. I want to break it.

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