Page 13 of Hunted

Thomas shook his head and held up the engine. “Metrain.”

“Hey, I get it.” Clint clued in. “That’s Thomas the tank engine. Thomas, like you. I remember having one of these.” His memories of those early years before his parents had died were slippery, fading in and out. With a sudden clarity, though, he remembered pushing a toy train, just like the one Thomas clutched, along a hardwood floor. If he tried hard enough, he could almost hear his mother’s voice calling to him. He shook his head at the thirty-year-old memory and focused on the boy in front of him who was looking back at him with a smile on his face. “Got any more train pieces?”

In a few minutes, they were on the floor setting up tunnels and curves for the train to travel through. Clint vaguely registered the sound of a hairdryer coming on. It was not something he was used to, but he kept his attention on Thomas and havingfun with the boy, which was no hardship. The kid was cute and seemed plenty smart for his age.

Clint wasn’t an expert on child development, but he had to guess that Thomas’s intelligence and adaptability to his new surroundings came from the hard work his mother had put in with him. Another reason to like and respect Leila. As if he needed one.

Leila’s mouth popped open to say good morning, but no sound came out. She was enchanted—that was the only word for it—by the sight of Clint on the floor playing trains with her son. She’d come out of the bathroom, dressed and ready for the day, when she spotted them.

She should go get Thomas. He wasn’t Clint’s responsibility after all. And she would. In a minute. For now, she was just enjoying this brief interlude of contentment. She’d had damn few of those as a single mom—and none at all since finding out Mike was out of prison. She’d been operating in crisis mode, which wasn’t good for her or Thomas.

She could relax a bit thanks to Clint and his generosity, which was probably the reason she’d lingered in the shower, taking the time to shave her legs above the knee. She rolled her eyes. Only the mother of a toddler would see that as a treat. Thomas usually played on the bathmat while she was in the shower, but he’d been out cold still that morning when she’d checked him before going to the bathroom, so she’d decided to leave him in his crib.

She hoped he hadn’t woken Clint. She studied the man. His hair was a little mussed, and his T-shirt was an old one that stretchedtight across the muscles of his chest and shoulders. His feet were bare. The whole look was way sexy.

“Good morning,” he said, making her jump. She’d gotten caught up with looking at him and was completely busted. Her cheeks went hot.

“Hello.” She forced herself to take the last steps into the room. “I hope Thomas isn’t bothering you.”

“Heck, no.” Clint ruffled her son’s hair. “We’ve bonded over trains. Haven’t we, buddy?”

“Choo-choo,” Thomas responded. He looked happy, which made her happy. She’d loved to take more time to enjoy the moment, but she was due at work in an hour, which was just enough time to feed Thomas, get him dressed, and drop him at the day care.

“Come on, Thomas. Time for breakfast.” She went to her son, scooping him up and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Clint rose from the floor and stood next to her. For a second, they felt like a family. It was weird, but good, too. She and Thomas had never had that with a man before—with anyone, really. It was always just the two of them since her mother moved back to Puerto Rico.

Thomas deserved more people in his life, more family. Maybe she should take her mother up on the invitation to visit, maybe even stay with her and her grandparents for a while, once this whole mess with Mike was over.

“I’ll get dressed while you do that. I can drop you both off before opening the shop.”

“I’m sorry to put you out like that. Maybe we could—” She was about to suggest getting an Uber, but he cut her off.

“I’m driving you,” he insisted. “I’ll be ready to go in thirty.” As he went past her, he touched her arm, just the slightest of brushes. It was comforting and exhilarating. That was weird, too. She smiled at Clint, but he was already headed down the hall toward his bedroom.

“Toast or Cheerios?” she asked her son, switching her attention to him.

“Ooooo’s.” His favorite.

“That’s what I thought.” She carried him into the kitchen and pulled his booster chair up to the table. While he ate his cereal and some grapes cut in half, she downed an energy bar and packed herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch. Thank goodness, day care provided snacks and lunch for Thomas. She paid extra for that, but it was more than worth it since it made her life so much easier.

After breakfast, she got Thomas dressed as quickly as she could, hurrying to the door to wait for Clint at the front door. She didn’t want to delay him and be an inconvenience—any more than she already was, at least.

Thomas willingly went into the day care, and they arrived at the dental clinic five minutes before her scheduled time to start. Clint had been quiet on the drive. And watchful. She supposed that was how he was, in general. She wanted to thank him again for playing with Thomas that morning—for everything, really—but she couldn’t find the right words, so she settled for a simple thanks and got a smile in return—a smile that curled her toes in a good way.

“I’ll see you later,” she said and slid out of his truck. He waited for her to get inside before driving away.

She was feeling so much better than she had just the day before as she greeted her first patient and got to work. Her morning was busy with back-to-back appointments. At noon, she went into the breakroom and took out her sandwich.

“Hey.” Katy, the receptionist, sat down across from her. She was young, younger than Leila, and a total sweetheart. “Everything okay after yesterday?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Leila kept her answers brief, not wanting to drag her personal life into work. “Just a little trouble with my ex.” That was as much as he was saying. Katy gave her a doubtful look. “What is it?”

“I had a call for you that was kinda nasty.”

“Nasty how?” Leila asked as her stomach sank.

“Some guy insisted on talking to you. When I said you were unavailable, he demanded to know when you got off work. I wouldn’t tell him and…”

“And what, Katy?” The bite of sandwich Leila had just taken turned to dust in her mouth.

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