Always with You - Part One(18)

"Fine by me. More than fine, actually. I need to know if there's anything … well, you know."

"Yeah, I know. In fact, I have an acquaintance I can call. Someone who's especially talented in the finding people. And in the finding out of things about those people."

"Any friend of yours is a friend of mine."

"I don't know as I'd call him a friend so much as an asset."

"Is he dangerous?"

"More than anyone I've met in a long time. But only to a certain … variety of people."

"And what 'variety' is that?"

"The variety that he goes looking for."

I hold my friend's blue eyes, reading between the lines and listening to what he's saying without saying anything at all. In the end, I trust Gavin. And if Gavin thinks it's safe to bring this guy on board, then so be it. He's done things for me and for Olivia that go above and beyond the duty of a friend. To say that I trust him with my life would be an understatement. The thing is, I trust him with Olivia's. And that is a bigger deal to me than trusting him with my own.

"If you think he can help, bring him in."

"I'll make the call. Might take him a few days anyway. That okay with you?"

I sigh. "I guess I've got nothing but time, man."

Gavin tips his head toward the closed apartment door behind him, the one from which I can hear cartoons playing loudly. "You think she's yours?"

"Hard to say. She could be and I guess that's enough to keep her around until I know for sure. I mean, if she is … I just can't turn my back on her. On either of them."

"No need to explain. I get it, mate. I just hope there's not more to this."

Gavin is voicing my concerns, which sort of validates them in my head. "Me, too, G. Me, too."

My gut is telling me-like Gavin's gut is telling him-that Sophie's up to something. And, dammit, I'm going to find out what it is. One way or the other. 

"So did you come by just to see my pretty face? Or was there something else?"

"We left in a hurry, so I'm here to get our things. Olivia was finishing up packing when she got the call."

"Well, I don't think it bothered your new guest. She and her little girl are still back there, I guess. She'd mentioned going for something to eat, but I haven't seen her come out this way. And her car is still parked out front, so … "

I take a deep breath. "Did we have a Dual shirt for her? Or have you checked?"

"We had one. I ordered some extra for Olivia. Evidently they're the same size."

I feel like curling my lip. I don't know why that pisses me off, but it does. "Good. Keep an eye on her."

"Will do, mate. If she gets out of line, I'd say Ginger will be more than happy to bring her back in." His smile says he'd love to see a cat fight involving his feisty redhead.

"So, you're a thing now?"

His grin speaks volumes. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"No. Not really. She's like a sister. Just the thought of … "

I shudder and Gavin laughs.

"Your loss, man. She's quite … I mean she's … she's …  damn!"

I hold up my hand to make him stop. "I get the picture. You don't have to … "

That just seems to make him laugh that much harder.

"You'd better go get your shit before I start giving you details then."

He doesn't have to tell me twice.

I round the desk and knock on the door at the back of the office, the one that leads into my apartment. There's no response at first, but then the door eases open and a pair of sparkling black eyes peek up at me from the crack.

"Can I speak to your mom?" I ask, not knowing whether to ask her if I can come in or …

She nods and opens the door wider. When I step through, she turns away, calling out to her mother before resuming her place on the bed facing the television. "Momma!"

Within seconds, the bathroom door swings open and a freshly showered Sophie walks out. Her eyes round when she sees me and mine round when I see her. Hers in surprise; mine in anger.

She's wearing a shirt. Only a shirt. And the damn thing is mine.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN



Cash



"What the hell are you doing?" is what I want to ask. Or more like growl. The way it sounds in my head is nothing so nice as a polite "asking."

Sophie's familiarity, like we're still two high school kids who are banging in the back seat of my car every chance we get, annoys the shit out of me. She's up to something. I can feel it. I just don't have a damn clue what it is. And as much as I want to bark questions at her and demand that she take off my shirt, I don't. I'm too aware of the big brown eyes peeking up at me from Isabella's perch on the bed. When I glance at her, she looks quickly away, pretending to be absorbed in her cartoons again.