Page 85 of Single Mom's Bodyguards
“Good.” I smile, leaning back a little to ease the tension. “And teams have to think ahead. Eli’s stuck in that cast for a while. Can’t swim, can’t roughhouse the way he usually does. That’s gonna eat at him.”
Maeve wrinkles her nose. “Yeah. He hates sitting still unless he’s reading. And I think he’s read everything we have.”
“Which is why,” I say, dragging it out, “we need a plan. Something fun. Something that makes him feel like he’s still winning, even with a busted arm.”
Her brows lift, cautious but curious. “Like what?”
“Like…” I lower my voice like I’m revealing classified intel. “Four-wheeling.”
Her eyes go wide. “No way.”
“Yes way.” I grin. “Out back, on the grass. Nothing crazy, nothing dangerous. Just enough bumps to make him laugh and forget he can’t swim. We’ll rig it so he can steer one-handed. You can ride shotgun.”
Her mouth curves into a grin, the tears from earlier forgotten in an instant. “That’s awesome.”
“Thought you might say that.” I wink. “We’ll get Huck to set up a course. He’ll complain about it, but secretly he’ll love bossing us around with cones and stop signs.”
She giggles, the sound pure and unguarded. “And Mom will freak out.”
“Of course she will. But then she’ll see how happy Eli is and she won’t be able to stay mad. Moms are like that.”
Maeve leans her head back, smiling for real now. “He’s gonna be so excited.”
“That’s the point.” I tap her knee. “You make sure he doesn’t figure it out yet. We’ll surprise him.”
“Deal.” She sticks out her pinky.
I stare at it, mock-serious. “Is this an official binding contract?”
“Yes.”
I hook my pinky with hers, giving it a firm shake. “Then it’s settled.”
Her grin widens, but when she lets go, her eyes soften again, thoughtful. “Thanks, Wes.”
“For what?”
“For…listening. And for not…making me feel dumb.”
I swallow hard, the anger flaring again under my ribs at the thought of her father doing exactly that. “You’re not dumb, Maeve. Not even close. You’re brave. And smart. And funny as hell. Don’t let anyone take that from you.”
She nods, a little shy now, like she’s not used to hearing those words said to her. As she gets up, I sit back against the wall, letting her go. She deserves to feel better, even for a little while. But my mind is already racing elsewhere.
David.
I want him to feel me on his tail. To know what it’s like when someone stronger than you decides you’re nothing but a target. Turnabout is fair play.
28
HUCK
The lightin the room is still blue-gray when I feel her slip in beside me. Soft feet, soft breath, softer than anyone else in this house ever manages to be. Bailey. I don’t need to open my eyes to know. I know her weight on the mattress, the way she smells faintly of vanilla and coffee grounds, the way she hesitates for half a beat before she climbs into my space like she’s afraid she shouldn’t.
I’m already half-hard. Been dreaming about her anyway. I don’t make her wait. She straddles me, and I fill my hands with her hips, guiding her down until I’m inside. She gasps, muffling it against my neck, and I have to grit my teeth to hold back the sound that wants to come out of me.
It’s good. It’s so damn good. But pain spikes through my arm the second I flex wrong. The cut, the stab wound from last week, it pulls sharp and hot under the fresh wrap. I bite it back, keeping my face smooth, letting my other arm take the weight. I can’t let her see.
She rocks against me, chasing her release, and I keep the rhythm steady, steady, steady, even while sweat breaks out across myback from more than just the effort. Her gaze slides over me, so I roll her onto her back. It wrecks my arm, but keeps her distracted, and that’s all I care about. I use the edge of the mattress for leverage, pulling myself deeper into her tight body. Her nails scrape down my back, almost taking me with her over the edge. But then her breath catches, and she’s shuddering hard, muffling her cry in my shoulder so she doesn’t wake the whole house.
