Lone Star Holiday Proposal

This was what a man’s life should be filled with. Moments like this that were precious and memorable for their simplicity and purity. This was what he’d been missing for far too long.

“Hey, JJ. How’re you doing?”

“Good!” The little boy disengaged from Nolan’s legs and began hopping from one foot to the other. “We’re having lasagna for dinner. Yum!”

“JJ, let me talk to Mr. Dane,” Raina interrupted, coming up behind JJ and putting a hand on his shoulder to restrain him.

Nolan’s senses went on full alert. He was back to being Mr. Dane? Something was very wrong. The chill that surrounded Raina cut through JJ’s excitement and the boy stilled as he looked from his mommy to Nolan in confusion.

“Do you want money from my mommy, too?” JJ asked.

Raina’s eyes flared wide at her son’s words, and Nolan saw the shock that streaked across her face.

“Hush, JJ. Mr. Dane doesn’t want anything from me.”

Oh, she was very wrong there, he thought, but he didn’t miss the silent message in her words or her tone. Nolan squatted down to JJ’s level and gave the little guy a reassuring smile.

“No, I don’t want money from your mommy.”

“You sure?”

Nolan nodded. “Of course I’m sure.”

“Bad man hurt mommy.”

Nolan heard Raina’s gasp of shock. “JJ, don’t be telling stories.”

“But it true,” the little boy protested.

Nolan thought it a good time to interrupt before the atmosphere got any more difficult than it was already. “Hey, JJ, look at me. I would never hurt your mommy. I promise. Okay, champ?”

JJ nodded slowly and Nolan rose to his full height again. As he did, he caught a glimpse of Raina’s arm. She’d pushed the sleeves of her long-sleeved T-shirt halfway up her forearm and there was no mistaking the livid bruising around her wrist. The second she was aware he’d noticed, she pulled the sleeves down but it was too late now. He couldn’t unsee what was there and he wasn’t a fool. He knew fingermarks when he saw them. He’d seen marks like that, and worse, often enough when he was working alongside his father at his family law practice.

“You okay?”

Nolan chose his words carefully, even though he wished he had the right to demand who the hell had dared to lay a hand on her—and then hunt them down for some payback. Before she could answer him, though, JJ jumped up and down and started to speak.

“No’an! No’an! I’m gonna be Spider-Man at the C’istmas show!”

“Settle down, JJ,” Raina admonished her son. “What he means is he’s been chosen to play one of the shepherds at his day care’s Christmas pageant this year.”

“Yeah!” JJ interrupted again, unable to contain his excitement. “Can you come, No’an?”

“I’m sure Mr. Dane will be far too busy to attend the pageant, JJ.”

Raina gave Nolan a fierce look, warning him not to contradict her. In response he squatted back down to JJ’s level and put one hand on the little boy’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, JJ. Your mom is right. I’m working that night.”

“I hate work!” JJ shouted, before turning tail and running down the hall toward his room.

“You mind telling me what that was about?” Nolan asked as he rose again to his full height and met Raina’s chilling blue gaze full-on.

From the second he’d arrived, he’d felt a cold vibe coming from Raina that was at complete odds with the way they’d parted last time they’d been together. What the hell had gone wrong between then and now? He could have sworn that they were both heading in the same direction and now it seemed that she was slamming on the brakes. Did it have something to do with those marks on her wrist?

Again Nolan felt the slow burn of anger flicker inside at the fact that anyone had dared to lay a hand on Raina. But it was nothing compared to the irritation he felt at being manipulated into letting JJ down just now.

Raina lifted her chin and crossed her arms in front of her. Her body language was clear. She was shutting him out in more ways than one.

“Sure,” she said abruptly. “I don’t mind telling you. I know why you’re here.”

For a split second he was confused and then it dawned on him. She’d found out about his connection to Samson Oil. “I’m guessing it’s not because of your invitation to dinner, right?”