No Quick Fix (Torus Intercession 1)

“You’re pushing April’s buttons,” she said with an evil cackle.

“Awesome,” I said wickedly, grinning for good measure before giving April an exaggerated wink. When I turned to look at Emery, he appeared bemused. “You realize, of course, I might not be nanny material.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be an issue,” he replied softly.

“I gotta go put on my uniform,” Olivia announced. “Are you coming to my soccer game?”

“Can we eat right after?” I whined, which coaxed a smile from Emery. “I’m starving.”

“Yeah, we always get pancakes if I play in the morning.”

“Awesome,” I told her, because it was my go-to word at times, and then turned back to her father. “This is your last chance to send me packin’.”

“Not on your life.”

“Okay, then, I’m gonna go get my bag outta the car. Can you show me where to put my stuff when I come back in?”

He looked from me to April, still standing there fuming, hands clenched into fists, trying to shoot lasers out of her eyes to turn her new nanny, me, to dust, then to Olivia, and finally back. When he smiled warmly, I felt something unclench in my chest, like the very last knot had been undone, and my whole body relaxed.

“Yes, Brann, I certainly will.”

“I’ll go with you,” Olivia offered, her voice breaking our silent communion, her hand slipping into mine like it was the most natural thing in the world.

We went together to the car, and when I came back in, Olivia still holding my hand, I flashed my gun case to Emery as we reached the kitchen, needing to remind him that it was coming into his house. He had been made aware of it, of course, and had only agreed to the presence of the weapon because of the combination-lock safe.

“Show him his room, Ollie,” he directed his daughter.

“Come on, Brann,” she said, tugging on my hand.

I was led out of the kitchen and down a short hall to the first room on the right. It was as warm as the rest of the house, done in earth tones, all mahogany, cream, and sepia.

“I gotta pee,” I lied to Olivia, and she gave me an exaggerated wink, which was ridiculous and made me smile as she peeled away from me and waited as I closed the door to the room.

Walking to the closet, I pulled my Glock 19 out of the locked gun case and then placed it on the top shelf so neither of the girls would ever know it was there. Normally I wore a shoulder holster, but since I would be walking around a sleepy little suburban town, I put on my ankle holster instead. I had to carry the weapon, but I didn’t need to alert anyone—especially the girls—that I was.

“Geez, Brann, how long does it take to pee?” Olivia groused from the other side of the door, which was hysterical as it hadn’t been even a minute. “We’re burning daylight out here!”

She cackled as she said the last, which made me smile as I bolted for the door.

Four

Emery drove, and as we pulled away from the curb, I had to move the seat back in the Toyota 4Runner, change the position of the drop of the belt, and then, finally, after all that maneuvering, I was comfortable.

“Lydia’s gonna have to put all that back when she rides with us,” April said snidely.

“Not sorry,” I baited her, turning to look at her as she bumped back in her seat and crossed her arms to sulk.

“Why are you here?” she snapped at me.

“To help your father,” I answered before flashing her my patented shit-eating grin, the one that most recently had prodded a Chicago PD patrol officer to take a swing at me, and before that, an Army Ranger in Kabul.

A moment later, she kicked the back of my seat.

“April,” Emery scolded her.

“What? It was an accident.”

I snorted.

“Really?” Emery asked me, but when I turned to look at him, I noted his grin.

He knew the score just as well as I did. She was testing me, seeing what I’d take, and that was okay. He was clearly letting me know with his lack of interference that he was leaving things alone for us to figure out.

When we stopped in front of another house, April got out before Olivia, both of them bolting for the front door to pick up another one of the players on Olivia’s team.

“I can be a grown-up if you want,” I rushed out, knowing I only had a few minutes. “I can be more careful with April, and I won’t—”

“No,” Emery said quickly, hand on my thigh for emphasis. “I’m thrilled she’s even speaking to you. All I’ve received are grunts and shrugs and rolling eyes for—what—months, except for on her mother’s birthday.” He choked, swallowing down his sadness. “I know that the wedding is painful for her, but it’s good for both companies and the town and… good for my girls in the long run. They need help; I’m not enough.”