“Hey, Bumblebee, it’s time.”
Cayla’s hand shot out to grab the sippy cup that flew off the coffee table as Maddie scrambled up from the picture she was coloring and made a beeline for the front door.
Holt scooped her up with one arm. “Hold it. Shoes.”
Maddie kicked her feet as if running in place from where he held her off the floor. He leaned over to grab the slip-ons off the rack by the door and dropped them down, lowering her until she could slide her feet in. Then he opened the door, letting her dangle for a bit as Cayla came to join them. She could see Maddie’s quarry by the curb.
Her feet churned like the Roadrunner. “Lemme down! Lemme down!”
God, Cayla loved her kid. Unable to contain the smile, she looked over at Holt. His blue eyes sparkled, the corners of his mouth turned up in the barest of smiles. It was a potent thing, being able to share her joy in Maddie with someone else. She hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted that. How much pleasure she’d get seeing someone else’s appreciation for the unique little human she was raising.
On her nod, Holt let Maddie loose.
“Leno!”
Cayla smiled as Maddie raced down the front sidewalk to where Mia and Brax waited with their massive pit bull for the official evening love fest. Leno dipped low in a play bow, his entire butt wiggling as she approached. They collided with mutual joy on both sides, as they did almost every night.
Holt slid an arm around Cayla’s waist as they followed Maddie out of the house. “That kid needs a dog.”
She mirrored the gesture, enjoying the brush of his body against hers, reveling in the awareness of his warmth and the touch she certainly hadn’t gotten enough of.“That kid wants a dog. I do not have the bandwidth to add another creature to take care of to this household. Not right now. She’s happy loving on Leno.” And if the sounds of absolute delight from her daughter gave her a little pinch of guilt over that fact, well, it was a pinch she’d learned to ignore. She had to be practical.
They strolled down to the street, his big hand possessively curved around her hip in a way that had her thinking about far fewer clothes and no audience. Dragging her mind away from the honeymoon that hadn’t yet been, she called out, “Evening, y’all.”
“Guess what!” Maddie demanded.
They all dutifully chorused, “What?”
“Today at school, Mary Beth told everybody about how her dog Rocket ate her glow in the dark crayons.”
“Uh-oh. I bet that upset his tummy,” Mia observed.
“I don’t know about that, but she said he’s been having glow in the dark poops!”
Holt snickered. “Well, then I guess they know where to scoop.”
Maddie nodded soberly. “Responsibible dog owners scoop the poop.”
“They do,” Brax agreed.”
“Know what else they do?”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“They make sure their puppers have other doggie friends to play with.”
“Socialization is important,” Mia said.
Maddie turned guileless eyes on Cayla. “See? Socialzition is portnant. We should get a friend to help do that for Leno.”
Always an operator, her child. “Nice try, Munchkin.”
She shrugged with an unrepentant grin. “Can’t blame a girl for tryin’.”
“Bath time, Little Miss. Say goodnight to Leno and Mia and Brax.”
“Goodnight, Leno. You’re the bestest boy ever.” Maddie dropped a kiss to his enormous head.
Leno barked in agreement.
“Night Mia! Night Brax!”
“Night, Maddie. See you later.” Mia lifted her hand in a wave as the two of them moved on to continue their walk.
Cayla waved in return and began herding her offspring back toward the house. “Holt, can you check the mail?”
“Sure thing.”
It took longer than she wanted to get her chattering daughter settled in the bath, bribed with pink bubbles. There were still dinner dishes to wash, and she really ought to get a load of laundry on, so she could swap it over to the dryer before bed. Mind full of everything still to do, she wandered into the kitchen, already rolling up her sleeves.
Holt intercepted her before she could get to the sink. “Dishes can wait a minute.”
“Oh, but I really need to—”
“They can wait,” he insisted, stabbing a few buttons on his phone, until music spilled out of the little bluetooth speaker she kept on the counter. Ed Sheeran.
“What are you up to?”
He tugged her into his arms and circled her to the beat. “Dancing with you. It’s become one of my favorite things.”
She relaxed against him, enjoying the sway of his body against hers. “Mmm. I’m pretty fond of it myself.” And of all the memories dancing evoked of that panty-melting kiss they’d shared at their reception. They still hadn’t moved beyond those kisses. Much as Maddie seemed intent on matchmaking them, she wanted to be there to encourage the connection, so there hadn’t been an opportunity for more than a handful of stolen kisses and heated glances during the days. Add to that multiple nights running of them ending up with a squirming child in their bed courtesy of a series of thunderstorms in the area, and nights had been out, too. She and her daughter needed to have a conversation about how she and Holt weren’t like her dolls, and they needed uninterrupted time to themselves. But Cayla hadn’t figured out how to brave that discussion.
As Holt’s big, broad palm pressed against her lower back, she found she was enjoying where they were, lingering in this long, drawn out seduction. Anticipation heightened each new touch and sensation. At this point, there was no questioning, no second guessing. Whatever else they felt, however long this lasted, right now they wanted each other, and that was a heady delight. No doubt, they could’ve gotten creative and carved out time for a quickie, but neither of them wanted to rush. Unfortunately, her calendar of appointments and events had been utterly packed even before they’d gotten married. Holt’s workdays were getting busier and busier, as he and the guys prepared for the official grand opening of Bad Boy Bakers. So she’d take this little slice of domestic romance and be grateful.
Resting her head against his shoulder, she sighed. “I could totally get used to dancing in the kitchen after dinner.”
“Doesn’t get much better than this,” he agreed.
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Lifting her head, she rose up, finding his mouth for another of those toe-curling kisses she was getting addicted to.
Holt groaned low in his throat, his arms tightening around her. She loved feeling the flex of his muscles against her and couldn’t wait for the chance to touch and explore every bare inch of him. He was so strong and capable, beautifully made, all the way down to the scars she’d glimpsed but hadn’t asked about. She’d never wanted like this. Never craved someone else’s touch this much. And if she didn’t have his hands on every bare inch of her soon, she just might go insane.
“Mommy! I’m done!” As Maddie’s bellow echoed down the hall, Holt broke the kiss.
Cayla whimpered. “We could duct tape her to the wall, maybe. Just for an hour or two.”
“I don’t think even duct tape can hold up to her energy. Maybe she’ll stay in her own bed tonight.”
“I think you’re becoming her new favorite stuffed animal. I’m getting jealous.”
A laugh rumbled in his chest. “Parents across the world have more than one kid, so clearly they’re figuring this out somehow.”
“Hardware store. There has to be a lock for the door that won’t just pop open on a sneeze.”
“We’ll look into it.” With another quick kiss, he let her go. “You want dishes or jammies?”
“Dishes. She argues less with you about bed. I’m riding the novelty of that as long as it lasts.”
“Okay. I’ll get her pajamafied.”
Alone again, Cayla blew out a breath. Feeling restless and needy, she threw herself into doing the dishes, loading plates and bowls into the dishwasher and scrubbing up pots and pans. From the bathroom she could hear the two of them belting out “We Don’t Talk About Bruno”. She laughed to herself, marveling at how easily Holt had slid into their everyday lives, becoming a part of long-established routines. No matter how he’d gotten here, he fit with their family. It was a backward way to build a relationship, but it did feel as if they were building one. That made this easier.
Still smiling at the impromptu concert, she picked up the stack of mail he’d brought in and riffled through it. A letter with a return address to a bank she didn’t have an account with had her pausing. Slipping a finger beneath the flap, she ripped the envelope open. All her simple pleasure in the evening evaporated she skimmed the contents.
Someone had tried to open a credit card account using her information. The application had failed because her credit reports were locked.
And so it begins.
She knew things had been oddly quiet since Arthur’s threat. Here was the confirmation that he hadn’t miraculously given up his claim. And it was a good reminder not to get too comfortable in this little Twilight Zone life she’d landed in. They were both making the best of a strange situation. But the bloom would fade, probably sooner rather than later, and then where would they be? How long would it take Holt’s regrets to fester?
He trotted in, a giggling Maddie on his back in her Paw Patrol pajamas. He took one look at her face and sobered. “What is it?”
“Nothing that can’t wait until after bed. I believe we owe someone another chapter of Mr. Popper’s Penguins.”
“Yeah!”
Somehow, Cayla put the letter out of her head for the duration of the bedtime routine, losing herself in the story and snuggles from her little girl. She finished the chapter, and Maddie begged for one more song from Holt. Then they kissed her goodnight and left her guarded by her menagerie.
Holt said nothing until they reached the kitchen. “Raynor’s done something.”
“He’s tried.” She poured herself a half glass of wine and sat at the table, nudging the letter toward him. “I should have expected he’d pull something like this. It makes sense that he’d strike out in habitual ways. I expected it when I left him, so I locked down my credit reports and Maddie’s. I should have thought of this before. If yours aren’t locked, they need to be, immediately.”
“How would he have gotten my information? He doesn’t even have my name.”
“I have no idea. But identity theft is what he does, remember? And as far as he’s concerned, you’re now enemy number one, so I promise he can find it out. We shouldn’t take the risk.”
“Okay. I’ll take care of it.” He pulled her into his lap, rubbing at the knots that had formed in her shoulders. “We knew he’d do something. As an opening volley, this isn’t that bad. No harm actually done. And nothing to do with custody of Maddie.”
She slid her arms around his shoulders, soaking in his solid, steady strength. “That’s what worries me. He won’t be satisfied with this. It’s too small. Too simple. This is… like kicking tires. Like he’s trying to find the chink in our defenses. Or distract us from seeing something else.”
“You’re smart. Careful. We’ll find any holes and shore them up. It’s gonna be okay. If and when he takes legal action, we’ll be ready for him.”
She bit her lip, wondering if that was actually true. “It’s so hard to predict what he’ll do. In some senses, I know him. But I don’t understand him. I don’t understand people like him, who would rather profit off others than put in the work to build something real. How he thinks doesn’t make sense to me, and I don’t want to end up blindsided because of it.”
“Could you reach out to your FBI contact? The one you dealt with to put him away in the first place?”
“I should. I don’t know if there’s anything he can tell me about the retrial, but it’s worth letting him know that there’s a strong possibility that Arthur is up to his old tricks again.”
“Even if he can’t tell you, he might be able to tell Xander as sheriff. We should update him on the situation. There still may be nothing that’s grounds for a restraining order, but keeping local law enforcement in the loop isn’t a bad idea. It’s one more person on your side.”
Threading her fingers in the hair at the base of his neck, she searched his face. “I’m glad you’re on my side. That you’re in my life.” As he leaned into the touch, his eyes falling to half mast, she decided to be honest. “I admit, I’m a little afraid of you.”
His eyes snapped open, his hands going still. “You are?”
“Not like that.” It was her turn to rub at the new knots in his shoulders. “It’s just… you’ve integrated so thoroughly into our lives in less than two weeks. It’s been so easy with you, and I learned a long time ago not to trust easy. I think you’d have done whatever was necessary to smooth that transition because that’s the mission, and I have no doubt that you were very, very good at what you did before. Don’t get me wrong. I’m enjoying this bizarre backwards dating thing we’ve been doing. But I can’t help but wonder what happens when the mission is over? When—God willing—Arthur goes back to prison.”
She could see him weighing his words, and her gut tightened with anxiety over what they might be.
“You’re not wrong. I lived a mission-centered life for a long, long time. And maybe there’s some of that in how I’ve approached things because it’s just how I’ve been trained. But you’re more than a mission for me. I’m not going through all of this with some eye toward the exit date. Maybe I wouldn’t have pursued things with you without some external push, but that was only because I think you deserve better.”
Cayla frowned. “Better than what?”
“Me.”
Horrified and furious in equal measure, she cupped his face between her palms. “Why would you say that? I don’t care what you may have come from growing up. I don’t care what you may have done as part of your service. I don’t care that it took a piece of you—not beyond the fact that it had to have hurt you tremendously. You’re kind and generous, fiercely loyal, with the biggest heart you don’t seem to want anyone to know about. Those are the measure of a man, and you’re the best one I know. So don’t you dare insult the man I married by somehow suggesting he’s less.”
His throat worked.
Cayla couldn’t stop herself from skimming her thumbs along his cheeks. She softened her voice. “Are we clear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She lowered her mouth to his for a soft, quiet kiss that soothed them both. Whatever other issues they had to face, she was determined that him feeling worthy wouldn’t be one of them.