Be My Hero (Forbidden Men 3)

When I checked the mail slot on my lunch break on Friday, the official letter I received had me even more anxious for alone time with my woman. I wanted to thank Eva for how amazing she'd been these last few months, though I already knew I'd never be able to show enough appreciation for everything she'd done for Julian and I. I still wanted to try, though, so I called Reese with my plans.

"Hey, it's Pick," I said when she answered.

Her return greeting sounded leery. "Hi, Pick. Everything . . . okay?" Then came the worry. "Eva? Skylar—"

"They're fine. Doing great."

"Oh." Reese's guarded tone returned. "Then . . . what's up?"

"I want to take her out," I rushed the words. "You know, just out of the apartment for a night. To . . . maybe a nice dinner or something. Pay her back for how much she's helped me and Julian. I don't know what we would've done without her. The babysitting money I give her is nothing compared to what I really owe her. So I was thinking something extra . . . a night out, away from the kids, would be better than nothing. It'd be a start."

Reese paused before responding to my big, long explanation, and I chewed on my lip rings, thinking she'd come up with a perfectly logical reason why my idea was ridiculous. But instead, she said, "That's so sweet. What a good idea."

"Really?" Thank God. "So, you'll babysit?"

"What?" The adoration dropped from her voice. "You mean, both babies? Together?"

My eyebrows wrinkled. Why did she make that sound so unreasonable? "Yeah. Would that be a problem?"

"No. Well . . . I just . . . I'm not Eva. She makes taking on two babies at once look easy. But me? One teeny tiny, kid, okay. I could swing that. I think. But two of them, so close to the same age, so young. What if I—"

"You'll do fine. Lowe's not working tonight either, is he? Make him come along to help. And you have my cell phone number. You could call anytime."

"Oh, good idea. I hadn't thought of dragging Mason along. Okay, then. What time?"

Whew. Mission accomplished. Mind switching gears, I said, "Uh . . . I get off work at the garage at five. So . . . maybe five-thirty? That'd give me a minute to clean up."

"Pff. You boys and your minute clean-up jobs. It's just not fair. Takes us women a good hour to prepare for a special evening out."

I grinned. "Yeah, but we guys don't look nearly as nice as you ladies do after all the preparation you put in, so I'm saying it's time well spent."

"Mm-hmm. No wonder E.'s so sweet on you. You do have a way with the compliments. But anyway, I'll bring something nice for her to wear. She'd be pissed if she knew I was in on her surprise date, and I let her go out with old rags on."

"It's not a date," I was quick to correct. "No, just dinner—"

"And dancing," Reese cut in. "And maybe a moon-lit stroll on the beach. A little messing around over the clothes and—"

"Okay, smart ass. Enough." I rolled my eyes. "But we're not going to call it that. Unless she wants to."

"Whatever you say, boss. I'll arrive for babysitting duty at seventeen hundred hours, sharp. Affirmative?"

I hung up, shaking my head. Lowe definitely had his hands full with that one.

EVA

I seriously dug being Nanny Mercer. I was proud of the routine I finally had down, because it hadn't been easy to perfect.

Typically, I was up at seven with Skylar, the morning bird. About the time she went down for her early morning nap, Julian would finally open his bleary little eyes. He'd help me around the apartment; there was always something for us to clean or fix. By the time lunch rolled around, Skylar was awake again. Feeding both of them took some serious energy. One of them would always get cranky if I placed too much attention on the other. But then they gave me a break when they took their afternoon nap together. And that's when I'd nap, too, or squeeze in a quick shower.

It was about time for them both to wake from their afternoon siesta when a knock came on Pick's front door. I had answered the phone for him over the past few weeks, fielding off telemarketers, but no one had come knocking before.

I checked the peephole, except whoever stood on the other side was too close and I could only make out the top side of a gray head of hair. Wondering if it was some relative of Pick's, momentarily forgetting he'd been in foster care because he had no relatives, I unbolted all the locks and eased open the door.

I had it cracked about a foot when the caller finally turned and smiled pleasantly at me. "Hello, Eva."

I gasped. "Oh my God." When I tried to slam the door shut, he jutted out his foot and wedged a glossy black loafer into the jamb.

"Now, sweetheart. That's no way to greet your father."