“It’s smaller than, say, Texas. Anyways, that’s my two cents. But do us a favor and don’t suggest that he come to Montana. We have enough shenanigans that we deal with ourselves. No sense in bringing more to our town.”
“I’ll think about it. But in the meantime, can you run that deep background?” I ask.
“Text me the guy’s information. The more detailed, the better.”
“Will do.” I hang up, and Clare gives me his full name, date of birth, and social security number. If I knew she had all that, I could have joked with Declan about selling the scumbag’s details on the black market. “Zander even sounds like a pompous ass,” I mutter when she gives me his name.
“Who’s Declan?” Clare asks. She opens the fridge and grabs a bottle of water, taking a swig.
The espresso machine was ready but has now gone silent and in sleep mode. That’s what I should be doing, sleeping. But I power it back on and wait another couple of minutes for the system to heat.
“Old military friend. We served together.”
“I didn’t know you were in the military,” Clare says. “What branch?”
“Army.”
She purses her lips, and it takes everything in my power not to kiss her and make her forget her lousy ex.
Just staring at her makes my cock twitch, and I’m grateful I’m not in boxers that would reveal how easily she makes me rock hard.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mention the texts sooner. I thought after the divorce, he’d leave me alone. Especially when he didn’t know where I was living.”
I run a hand through my hair, trying to remain calm. “He’s not getting inside. I’m more concerned about Amelia at school and while you both are out and about in the city.”
Maybe there is some truth to let the Eagle Tactical crew fly in and rough up the bastard who threatened my daughter’s nanny.
But Declan may be right, and offering him a buyout to leave the city, state, and anywhere near Clare may be the better way to go.
The police won’t do anything with a restraining order. I’ve seen how little gets done in terms of protection. I’ll hire additional guards to watch the girls when they’re out of the house. I already have all surveillance footage being monitored and am alerted whenever anyone approaches the gated premises.
“I may know a few ways to keep this man from bothering you,” I say.
Clare’s eyes narrow. “Tell me. You can’t go roughing him up.”
“You heard that suggestion?” I ask, surprised she had gotten so much as an inkling from half the conversation.
The espresso drips into the cup, and I sip the hot drink. My body melts from the taste and temperature. It’s not nearly as good as Clare’s lips against mine, but it’s second best.
“No, but a friend of mine, her boyfriend offered to bury my ex,” she says. “Joked about having a shovel in the trunk.”
“Does this jokester work for the bratva?” I’m guessing it wasn’t an actual joke but an offer to oust the guy.
“I can’t give all my secrets away.” She brings the water bottle back to her lips for another swig. “Espresso after midnight. Do you ever sleep?”
I haven’t gotten much shuteye since being back home. “Sleep is overrated.” Especially if it means tossing and turning all night, missing Clare’s warm body nestled against mine.
One night with her is all it took to destroy me.
She reaches for my espresso, and I think she’s going to take a sip, but instead, she tosses the rest of it down the sink, handing me her water bottle. “Drink.”
“That was perfectly good espresso,” I mutter.
I’m trying to do the girl a favor, and she has to go and make my life miserable. Why?
“And you look like you haven’t slept in a week. I’m putting you to bed. Dealing with Zander can wait until morning.” Clare takes my hand and leads me upstairs to my bedroom. “Do I need to tuck you in?” she asks when I don’t step foot in my bedroom.
It’s cold.