One to Protect (One to Hold 3)

“It seems like I’m showing even more since yesterday.” Sadness gone, I can hear her excitement rising. “I really want us together when he starts moving.”

Closing my eyes, I can see her gorgeous body, full breasts, stomach just starting to round out. “When can we find out if you’re right?”

“Twenty weeks is when they usually do ultrasounds for gender.”

It’s getting close. “I’ll be there. Take care of you both.”

The warmth is back. “Love you.”

“Love you more.”

We say goodnight, and for a moment I lie on the bed thinking. If there were any way she could be here, damn straight I’d have her here yesterday. In the meantime, I’ll hit the shower. We’re on our own for dinner, and since my partner is apparently occupied, I want to check out a local jewelry store for something platinum and diamond encrusted.

Thursday couldn’t arrive soon enough, but now that we’re on the verge, our plan feels shakier than ever. We spent the day yesterday locating a private spot off an alleyway. A closed balcony that’s above and somewhat hidden is attached to the restaurant. Patrick managed to talk the staf

f into letting us use it, and from what he says, he didn’t have to give any information away.

He and I will be up there monitoring, where we can drop down if needed. Star will lead Sloan into the dark alley and do whatever she needs to do. Once the ball is rolling, we’ll tune out unless she gives us the signal.

The real action shouldn’t occur before next week. I’m actually hoping it will, but I have nothing to base it on besides my gut. The true timeline could be longer or shorter.

While we’d waited for Patrick to work his magic on the restaurant staff, Star and I had checked out the access in and out of the small lane that runs behind the businesses.

It seems to have been intended for deliveries, but most the doors are welded shut or appear unused. She watches as I try them, one after the other.

“You don’t approve of me.” She’s following me a few steps behind, and today she’s in black leggings and boots, topped off by a short bomber jacket and white sweater that doesn’t even cover her ass.

“You came into my office, set up my partner…” I grunt as I push on another sealed door. “No. It’s safe to say I don’t consider you one of the good guys.”

She pulls her long, brown hair over her shoulder in an elegant sweep. Again, I’m impressed at her ability to shrug off the white trash so easily. “I’m sorry I fucked with Patrick, but I didn’t have the whole story. And I needed the money.”

“You fucked with my business, my reputation. It’s the same as if you fucked me.”

“I think I’d remember that.” Her voice is soft, and she smiles up at me.

I shake my head. I’m not sure if she’s attempting to mend bridges or flirt, but I’m not interested in either option. “You’ll need to be here for us to see you.” Pointing to the black metal door with the orange band across the bottom. “Can you remember this door? It’s pretty distinctive.”

“I think I’ll remember it.”

“Okay.” I nod and head back up the alley to where Patrick’s supposed to meet us. This should work.

Once we’re together at the top, she tries again. “I’ve never seen a man like you do that before.”

My brow lines. “What are you talking about?”

“That day in Raleigh, when you left so fast and took Patrick’s car.” Her arms are crossed and she looks genuinely concerned. “It’s hard to believe someone like you can feel fear.”

“Everyone feels fear.” I look at my hands again. “Just target the one thing they can’t live without.”

I close my fist, and I can’t help thinking I could end this, no charade necessary.

She touches my arm. “I decided that day I’d do whatever you asked. What do you want me to do?”

For a second, I’m confused. Then I realize she’s talking about Sloan. “Oh. I don’t know.” I exhale deeply. “I’m not looking to be judge, jury, and executioner here. I just want whatever it takes to put him away for good.”

“If you’re not judge, jury, and executioner, then you don’t want him out of your life permanently.” Her dark eyes hold mine, and I can see she’s waiting for me to say the word. It’s hard to believe this small woman might be capable of doing anything more forceful than turning state’s witness.

“You’re wrong. I do want him out of our lives permanently.”