Code Name Ghost (Jameson Force Security 5)

“And maybe a bath?” Malik asks.

“Do I smell?” I ask with a grimace.

Malik laughs with a shrug. “I’ve been trying hard not to inhale too deeply, but I’m sure a toothbrush in your mouth wouldn’t hurt either.”

My mom snorts as she moves across the living room to the nursery. “This little girl is almost asleep. I’ll put her down, then go run a bath for Anna.”

“Mom, you really don’t have—”

She cuts me off with a quick but stabbing glare. “Let your mom help, okay?”

“Okay,” I mutter, and now it’s Malik’s turn to snort. They’re ganging up on me, so I shoot him a glare, but it bounces off. He just smirks before heading toward the kitchen, nabbing the bag of groceries as he walks by.

My mom comes back out of Avery’s nursery, then goes into the bathroom. When I hear the water in the bathtub turn on, I hoist myself off the couch and shuffle in behind her.

Leaning against the doorjamb, I watch as she grabs some lavender-scented bubble bath and pours a few capfuls in. Suds immediately bloom and multiply.

Glancing over my shoulder toward the kitchen where presumably Malik is putting away the groceries, I turn back to my mom and murmur, “I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I should have.”

“What’s that?” she asks, straightening as she pivots to face me.

I know damn well she heard me, but she deserves the apology twice. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I should have because I was way sicker than I thought, and I could have used the help with Avery. It was stupid not to.”

Reaching out a hand to touch my cheek, she gives me a soft smile. “Sweet girl… I respect your need to be independent. Just remember I’m always ready to help you out.”

I nod. “I know.”

She leans in closer to me, lowering her voice. “What I don’t respect is you keeping it a secret you’re seeing someone thoughtful enough to come over and check on you, then let you sleep while he babysits Avery.”

“Mom,” I begin, moving into the bathroom a bit farther. “I was obviously going to tell you. Going to bring him by so you could meet him. But we’ve just been figuring things out ourselves and—”

“I get it,” she cuts in over me, lacing enough mom guilt in her voice that I’ll second guess ever keeping anything from her again. “That’s a big deal. And, well, what could your mom possibly offer if you needed some guidance and—”

“Okay,” I exclaim with a laugh. “I’m thoroughly chastised, Mom.”

She snickers and turns back to the bath, dipping her hand in to swirl the bubbles and test the temperature. She then dries her hands off and faces me once more, her eyes roaming over me a moment before she sighs. “I just want you to be happy, sweet girl. And well… I know a little something about losing a husband and having a second chance at love.”

I feel as if I’ve been slapped, but in an I-totally-need-it kind of way. It’s a revelation to realize my mom knows exactly what I’ve been going through with Malik. I mean, not the same exact circumstances, but my dad died, she was a single mom, and she found love again. Granted, not with a coworker who was intimately associated with her husband, but still… she understands the complexity of moving on from one love into possibly another.

My expression turns to one of pathetic apology, and she holds her arms out to me. I shuffle into them, then drop my forehead to her shoulder as she wraps me up in her embrace. “I’m sorry, Mom,” I murmur. “I need to be a better daughter.”

“You’re an exceptional daughter,” she replies softly, a hand going to the back of my head to hold me to her. “You just need to be knocked down a peg or two from time to time.”

We both laugh, and things are fine between us again.

Eventually, she pushes me back and eyeballs my hair. “Put that mess up on top of your head, and get in the tub. I’m going to go grab that ginger ale for you, make sure Malik keeps an eye on Avery, and then I’m going to come back in here while you soak in the tub and you’re going to tell me every single detail about how you two fell for each other. You’re not going to begrudge me one detail of it, either.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I reply, smartly knocking off a salute to her.

“Here’s the ginger ale,” we hear from behind us, and we both jump at Malik’s voice. He stands just on the other side of the bathroom threshold with an icy glass of bubbling soda and a mischievous grin that holds not one ounce of apology he might have been eavesdropping. He then sends an especially sly smirk at my mom and adds, “And she came on to me first. Don’t let her tell you otherwise.”