Page 115 of Defenders of Jawhara

Exiting out of her program, she pulled up a browser and went online. She’d done some research on Slade Security when she was looking for information on Tayra’s ex, but she’d focused more on Brock Wells. Now she tried to dig into Slade.

She didn’t find much. Slade—first name Jenson—was a former SEAL. He had a master’s in political science from Harvard, which was impressive on its own, but he also had a background in crisis negotiations and spoke five languages. Slade Security was one of the top security companies in the world, but she’d already known that. The company didn’t list clients, and that wasn’t surprising—security meant you didn’t talk about secrets.

She had the impression that Slade was very good at keeping secrets. She couldn’t find anything about his personal life. No Facebook page, no listing of relatives, no background on him. Either he kept his digital footprint small or he—or someone else—had worked hard to scrub out his background so he could stay low profile.

Trying another angle, she searched for Tayra. She’d never really done that before—she’d had no need to find her sister since they were already close. Wedding pictures popped up, along with all of Tayra’s school information, old tags from friends on Facebook and her Instagram account. Bethany saw a blurry image of Slade in the background at the wedding—it had been a rushed affair and Bethany hadn’t been able to attend. It was during finals in school, and she’d had projects to finish and Tayra had asked her to be a bridesmaid two days before the wedding. Bethany bit down on her thumbnail.

Had that been the mistake Tayra had made—rushing into a marriage? They’d already been together for years, but Brock was heading out on his first deployment, and she’d been the one to insist that she become Mrs. Tayra Wells before he left. Brock had been all too willing to agree. She stared at the images. Her sister had looked so happy in her wedding photos. The radiant bride and the happy groom with eyes only for each other. The image blurred. Bethany wiped her eyes. She didn’t know why Tayra’s marriage had failed, except she was sure Tayra had been more in love with the idea of being married to Brock, her own personal hero, than she was with finding a man who could be a partner to her through the good and the bad.

A hollow tapping interrupted her meandering. She hit the button to put her computer to sleep and glanced at the doorway. Slade stood there.

He looked huge, filling the space. He also looked great. The soft gray-blue of his T-shirt gave his eyes warmth, and his muscles stretched out the shirt in a way that said he worked hard on staying fit. Jeans clung to long, lean legs. Bethany forced her stare back to his face—she was not going to sit there lusting after the man.

Slade offered a small, crooked smile. “You ready for lunch? Jason tells me there’s a pizza parlor in town, but they don’t deliver.” That husky tone in his voice had her stomach doing somersaults.

She told herself it was just hunger. Standing, she stretched. Her shirt rode up, and she saw Slade’s gaze slip to the strip of skin she’d just flashed. Stopping the stretch, she tugged down her shirt and nodded. “Give me ten minutes to change.”

He left and she headed to her closet.

She’d set up her laptop in the bedroom—Tayra had had a dresser that worked as a desk for her, but she really needed to set up a better workspace. She was making do with too many things around here. Now that Tayra was…

Skipping past that thought, she glanced around. She’d packed up Tayra’s clothes and had donated them. She’d boxed up Tayra’s photos and personal items—Jason might want them someday. But there was room in the garage to set up a better office space. Maybe she’d get Slade to help her with that.

She changed from sweats to jeans and a white sleeveless blouse and slipped on some white Vans. She quickly dragged a brush through her hair and put on lipstick that doubled as protection from the summer sun.

Heading into the living room, she found Slade and Jason on the floor, now both playing the computer game. He looked ten years younger, and an image flashed into her head of what he must have been like as a kid—tall, still, but thinner, maybe less serious. She wondered suddenly what might have happened if she’d gone to Tayra’s wedding and had met him then—would they have sparked, clicked, hooked up?

She touched the tip of her tongue to her lower lip. She’d never know about what might have been. But she was hungry right now, and Jason probably was too. She put her hands on her hips.

“Hey, what about pizza?”

Slade didn’t look away from the game. “We need to finish this inning.”

She smiled. “You didn’t think I’d be ready in ten minutes.”

Slade gave a groan, and Jason pumped a fist into the air. “Strike out!”

Tossing the controller down, Slade stood. “I’m getting the stuffing kicked out of my team. Come on, buddy.” He reached a hand down for Jason.

Bethany moved automatically to help, but Slade hit her with a glare, and she froze. Face warm, she turned to grab her purse. Slade tossed the car keys to Jason. “Go open up the SUV.”

Grinning, Jason headed outside. Slade held open the front door for Bethany. She locked up, and he said, “You’re too protective of him. He said he doesn’t go to school and you’re acting like he’s half crippled.”

Bethany shook her head. “He’s not. I’ve been homeschooling him. Tayra—she’d help out with that when she could, but I wanted to make sure he got a real education. He’s great on the computer, ahead of where he’d be otherwise in school. He’s also got a half dozen friends who share homeschooling with him. All of us take turns on taking the kids on outings, too.”

He put a hand on the small of her back.

Bethany’s face heated even more. The pressure of his hand warmed her skin, sending small tingles through her.Okay, it was a bad idea to keep him around, she thought. Or maybe she could use this attraction between them? Maybe she could convince Slade that Jason really was best off with her adopting him.

She started into the details of everything that went into homeschooling—the hands-on education, the computer skills she was teaching Jason, the weekly outings they took to museums and to tech companies in Portland. If that didn’t impress Slade, nothing would.

* * *

Slade listened to Bethany’s sales pitch. He knew better than to tell her he already knew most of it.

Travis had sent him a file this morning that contained everything there was to know about Bethany Simmons. Her banking information, which showed she had excellent credit and good savings. She didn’t have a passport, hadn’t traveled much, and had never gotten as much as a speeding ticket. She’d had a few relationships, was still friends with those guys, and pretty much lived for her work and for Jason.

For the boy, there were fewer answers—a birth certificate with no father listed, type O-positive blood, which fit the background for most people and happened to be the same as Tayra’s, and a medical record of issues with his legs. Slade was going to let Bethany bring that up, too, but she hadn’t lied when she said Jason needed surgery. He did. No way was Slade going to let that boy go to a second-rate doctor for that. Somehow, he knew that was going to ignite more conflict. For now, he’d settle for pizza.

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