Page 38 of Winters Heat

“Well, you can’t hide in the car. And she won’t care. Hell, she won’t even notice.”

“Of course she’ll notice. I’m not wearing shoes. My shirt is basically scotch taped together. Anyone would notice.”

“This is the most you’ve said in hours. Since you woke up.”

A flush crossed her cheeks. All he wanted was for her to lean into him. To kiss him. He wanted her to stop torturing him. That wasn’t too much to ask.

She was the therapist. Maybe she compartmentalized or whatever. Boxed up their night and forgot about it. Other than the blush on her face and neck, Mia didn’t seem the least interested in him or having another go at it in the future. It was infuriating.

Unable to hold back, his hand glanced off her pink cheek with a caress. Something he was getting much better at since they’d met. She was so soft, and whether she’d acknowledge him as a man or not, he couldn’t stop from stroking her.

He took her hand, squeezed it, then got out of the car. He kissed his mom on the cheek and swept the baby into his arms, holding her up over her head. Clara giggled and kicked in excitement. Her blonde curls and smile warmed his heart every time.

He heard Mia walk up from behind him. Her bare feet shuffled on a few loose stones on the driveway, and her arms wrapped across her stomach.

“Mom, this is Mia. Mia, my mom.” Winters made the introductions, momentarily ignoring both women and focusing on Clara. It’d been far too long since he held her. It was an automatic; he held the baby, and the world sank away. His eyes slipped shut, and he drank in Clara’s hug, her innocent scent of shampoo and baby powder.

After a long hug, he saw his mother extend her hand to Mia, confusion and surprise on her face. Funny how similar the expression was to when he knocked on his mom’s door, baby in tow.

“Mia, nice to meet you. You can call me Judith.”

Judith flashed an inquisitive eye at her son, having never met any client or woman in his life before. Most certainly not at his house, with his daughter. A flush heated his face, imperceptible to anyone but his mother. He wasn’t a mama’s boy. Never had been. But their relationship had changed to friend-like, or even mentor-mentoree, after he arrived on her doorstep, holding a baby two-handed like she was a nuclear bomb, and kicking along the bag of diapers Child Protective Services gave him.

He had been terrified. And his mother, bless her heart, didn’t call him on it. She simply started to help. She could diaper the hell out of a baby, showing him that while it seemed duct tape was the only way a diaper would stay secure, the tabs on the side did just fine.

She knew Titan Group skirted the edge of legal. She knew that he was in danger each time he left for a job. He told her as much. But hell, he’d made some major changes after Clara arrived. Decisions were now made on more than mission-critical information. He had to base them on a baby. He had to get home to Clara at the end of each op. He had to establish routines and schedules. And he had to plan for a babysitter. It was comical. Shopping for formula and smashed peas while wearing tactical gear was quite possibly his latest favorite pastime. The looks he got were nothing short of alarmed. If he were feeling particularly in need of a laugh, he’d smear on camouflage face paint.

Nothing in his life had been stable until Clara came along. And even now, stable was a stretch. But for Clara’s sake, he did what he could to provide her a settled home. And his mother was his saving grace.

She didn’t appear to notice Mia’s bare feet or tattered clothes. But, oh, he knew better. She was discreet. That was for sure. The woman didn’t miss a beat. Lord only knew what she thought, and he was certain to hear about it later. Would she go the interrogation route, or infiltrate behind enemy lines, asking Mia subtle questions?

Maybe he should have placed a warning phone call. Right now, that was a blinding flash of obviousness.Too late. He hadn’t wanted to do that in front of Mia, and after everything that happened the last time he left Mia alone to call home, he sure as shit wasn’t going to do that again.

With the baby on his hip, Winters watched Mia stand next to his mother. His mom’s head tilted a degree sideways. One eyebrow raised slight enough so that only he noticed. It was a warning sign of the impending Q & A session.

Mia, on the other hand, had to work her blinkers and fight off her wide-eyed observation of him and Clara. Her demeanor made him uncharacteristically warm and hazy. Or was that fuzzy? It was such a bizarre feeling. He couldn’t define it.

“Mom, would you mind cooking up some lunch? I’m dying for something home cooked, and I think Mia could use a real meal. I think she’s had a bag of pretzels in the past twenty four hours.”

Mia’s face flushed. “Oh, I can help. I don’t need to be tended to—”

“You’d never know it, but Mia’s been shot at a few times, not to mention a nasty bout with some tear gas. Though that was my fault.” Truth be told, he was proud of his girl for taking it like she did. Winters winked at Mia but still spoke to his mom. “I think she could use some of your famous cooking. And, Mia, you need to rest. I’m going to need your help later. So eat, then sleep. I have to head out for a while, but we’ll take care of it all. Is that okay?”

Her mouth opened, closed, and opened again, but nothing came out. Her fingers touched her lips, a gesture as lost as the words she couldn’t find. She shuffled a bare foot back and forth on the driveway, then nodded. Pebbled rocks bent to the will of her painted toes.

His mom started back into the house. “Colby, I’ll let you get your friend settled, and I’ll be in the kitchen. I might have some clothes that’ll fit, Mia, if you want. I’ll leave them at the foot of the stairs. I’m sure Colby will direct you to the nearest shower.”

“Yes, thank you.” She smiled, conveying her appreciation.

Winters balanced Clara on his hip, and, with his free hand, took Mia’s chin, directing her gaze to him. His stare tracked her, despite Clara’s every attempt to remove his sunglasses. “You need to relax. You’re not an imposition or a headache. If anything, you’re a pleasant surprise.”

“Pleasant isn’t how I’d describe myself right now.” She swallowed hard enough that he could see it. Her fingers pleated the bottom of her torn-and-repaired shirt.

“Here I go. I’m an old MP3 stuck on repeat. What’s wrong?”

Mia sucked her bottom lip and remained quiet. Had she been through interrogation resistance training?

“All right, doll. I’m going to show you around. You have the roam of the place, comfy bed, and a hot shower. Mom will stay here with Clara while I’m gone. She’s more than happy to help you with anything you want. Really, she’s easygoing. I promise.”

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