“No,” he said firmly. “I have orders. Now, I need you to do something for me.”
“What?”
“Take Mason and go up into the nursery.”
I raised my eyebrow. “Why?”
“I need to sweep the neighborhood. I might be able to grab this guy if I hurry. I need to know exactly where you are while I’m out there. Go into the nursery and lock the door, and don’t open it until I get back. Understand?”
“Okay,” I said softly.
“Go.”
I stared at him for a second. In the short seconds while he was giving me my orders, he had transformed from a cocky, grinning asshole into a serious and intense mystery. It was such a strange transformation, but in that moment I could see that there was so much more beneath the surface of his cocky attitude, so much more down underneath it all. I wanted to find out what was there, to pry him apart and learn his secrets, but I knew I likely never would.
I turned and headed up into the nursery. I shut the door behind me, locked it, and sat down in the comfortable chair, Mason in my lap.
I began to read to him to pass the time. He was too young to really understand what I was saying, but he seemed to like to hear my voice. He squirmed in my arms and my thoughts wandered as I read the same familiar story, the same story I always read to little Mason.
Things were moving so fast. Just a week ago I was a totally normal person, starting back up at college. Sure, I was a single mother, but there were hundreds of thousands of single mothers all over the place.
There weren’t many single mothers that were also wanted by international terrorists.
All of it felt so unreal. My emotions were twisting in the wind, shifting from one extreme to another. One second I felt terrified, and the next I felt safe with Emory around. I barely knew him, and I already felt like he was the strongest person I knew, like I could trust him instinctually.
It seemed like he’d do anything for me and Mason. I got the sense that he was already sacrificing just to be with us, protecting us the way he was.
I didn’t know how we could ever have a normal life after this. I didn’t know if there even was anything after this. He never said he was going to stick around and help with Mason or if he even wanted anything to do with Mason. In fact, he barely ever spoke about his son, although he had gone out of his way to hold him.
And on top of everything else, all the confusion and the danger, there was the way I felt every time he was close to me.
My heart began to beat fast when Emory was near. My stomach felt light, nervous, and I could feel excitement running in my veins. Every time he said a single dirty thing, it drove me wild, my panties practically dripping and useless. I was trying hard to resist that, since sleeping with him again was only going to make things more complicated, but I couldn’t help myself.
Not around him. He was too attractive, delicious, strong. Not to mention the memory of what he did to my body still lingered. Even though that was my first real experience with sex, I knew it was extraordinary just from talking with people I knew.
He was an incredibly capable man in everything he did, and he drove me absolutely wild.
Emory Rush, my mystery man, my SEAL.
What the hell was I going to do?
Chapter 10
Emory
It was a beautiful Sunday morning in the suburbs as I tracked dangerous terrorists through the well-manicured front lawns.
Fortunately it had rained the night before, which meant they had left tracks. Not easily visible, but enough for me to get a sense of their general direction.
They had cut across her neighbor’s lawn and headed through that backyard, cutting across to the street behind Tara’s. There they went onto the sidewalk and fortunately left a few muddy boot prints on the concrete.
From there they cut across another lawn, left more footprints, but the trail eventually went dead another street over. They probably got into a car at that point and drove off.
I looked around. There was a single house on the corner, a cute little thing with a single old car in the driveway. I headed up its front path and knocked on the door.
I waited a minute, and slowly the door opened.
A little old lady with frizzy white hair was looking out at me.
“I’ve already found Jesus, if that’s why you’re here,” she said.
I grinned at her. “No, ma’am, that’s not why I’m here.”
“Good,” she said. “I always hate turning religious folks away, but I’ve got a cup of coffee to drink and a paper to read.”
“I just need one second, if you don’t mind.”
“Talk fast, young man.”
“Was there a car parked out front of your house? Maybe left between five and ten minutes ago.”