"Have you thought about coming back?"
Brent's head snapped up, pulled from his thoughts by Landon's question. "I'm sorry. What?"
"To the job. We're short on detectives. You know the captain would give his right eye to have you back."
A frisson of excitement cut through him at the thought of going back on the job. But he pushed it down. "Not gonna happen," he said. "I believe you've met my daughter?"
Landon flashed a cockeyed grin. "And she's pretty damn adorable. But she's in kindergarten now. It's doable."
Brent nodded slowly. "It is. And honestly, it's tempting. I miss the job--I won't lie."
"Then what?"
"Come on, Landon. It's dangerous, and you know it. I'm not going to risk leaving her an orphan. She already had one parent leave. She's not going to lose another."
"Odds are slim, man."
"Maybe. But they're better now than if I were chasing down meth dealers. The only job that matters to me these days is being her dad."
Bottom line, as much as he missed being a cop, he was never going back.
He knew his priority, and her name was Faith.
Chapter Four
"Daddy!" Faith leaped off the swings and ran toward him, her little legs pumping and her black curls bouncing as Brent knelt on the grass in the well-manicured backyard.
"Hey, kiddo! Did you have fun? Sorry I'm late," he added to Rayleen Burg, the mother of Kyla, the birthday girl, who also happened to be Faith's current BFF. He didn't add that he'd gotten held up at the police station. The single mom was chatty enough as it was, and he didn't need to hand her conversational fodder. Especially since she'd made no attempt to hide her attraction to him.
Brent, however, didn't return the interest. True, she seemed like a nice woman. Smart. Personable. A good mom. But there were no sparks. More important, even if there were, he wasn't looking. He had no interest in getting attached to a woman. No interest in bringing a woman into Faith's life only to risk her walking right back out again.
"Kyla had a pinata! I got a kazoo and Starbursts. Can I have one when I get home?"
Starbursts were her favorite candy. "We'll see."
"They all had a great time," Rayleen said. "But I think someone might ask you about her own p-i-n-a-t-a for next Saturday."
"Is that so? Maybe you could email me the information where you bought yours?" Faith's sixth birthday party was in one week and by accepted neighborhood standards, he wasn't nearly prepared enough.
Rayleen laughed. "Happy to. And if you need any help getting ready, you just let me know." She pushed a lock of hair off her face and smiled prettily. "Kyla and Faith could play while we get ready."
"That's so generous of you," he said. "But I have some folks already lined up. Faith's aunt and uncle." Reece and Jenna might not actually be related, but they were definitely family. Of course, he hadn't yet enlisted their help, but he was confident they'd come if he called.
"Well, the offer stands." She flashed another smile, then waved acknowledgment when someone called to her from across the yard. "Either way, Kyla will be there. And thanks again for letting Faith come today."
"Of course," Brent said, as Faith descended, sliding down his body as if he were part of a jungle gym. He took her little hand in his, then let her tug him to the gate.
"Daddy! Where's the car?"
"Maybe I thought we'd walk home. But I can't remember how. Do you know the way?"
Her brow furrowed, and she put her hands on her hips. "Course, I do, Daddy. But you didn't really forget, did you? You wouldn't forget how to come home, would you?"
Brent's heart twisted. He doubted that Faith was thinking of Olivia--she sometimes talked about getting a mom, but there was never any mention of the mom who had left. But even so, it was Olivia who was on his mind now.
"I'd never forget how to come home to you, munchkin. I'm just pretending."
The smile returned in full force. "I knew you were."
"That's because you're so smart."
"I counted all the way to two hundred today. Bobby Carmichael bet that I couldn't, but I did. And he had to give me his gummy bears."
Brent arched a brow. "I thought you only had Starbursts."
"I gave the gummy bears away. But I still won them."
"Well, congratulations."
"Look both ways, Daddy."
They'd reached the four-way stop sign two blocks from their house. Brent did as Faith ordered, then asked, "Now what?"
"Now you can go, but only with a grown-up."
"And?"
"And pay attention."
"Good girl. Come on."
They started walking, Faith's head swiveling as they crossed from one side to the other. "Can we go to the zoo today, Daddy?"
That heavy feeling returned to his gut. "I wish I could, but I have to go to work today, and there's not time."
"Oh." He hated that tone of disappointment.
"You know I have a job, sweetie. And sometimes I have to work weekends."
"Can I come? Patrick's daddy takes him to work on Saturdays. Patrick colors in the conference room. His daddy's a lawyer. He told me so."
"Unfortunately, your daddy doesn't have a conference room. And where I work isn't a good place for little girls. But I have someone super special coming to watch you later."
"Jenna?"
"Aunt Jenna and Uncle Reece already have plans. But Miss Elena is coming. Does that sound good?"
"She pulled me in the wagon when we were at Uncle Tyree's, and Eli told me she used to live by the beach."
"She did. In California."
"I've never seen a beach."
"Someday, kiddo." Right now, he was just happy that Elena's beach credentials apparently increased her appeal as a babysitter. "So you guys will have fun, right?"
Faith's head bobbed affirmatively, and for the millionth time, Brent wondered how he'd gotten so lucky to have such an amazing daughter. "She's funny." Faith smiled up at him. "And she's pretty, too. Do you think she's pretty, Daddy?"
His mouth went dry, his body kicking into that same state of hyperawareness he felt every time he was near her. "Very pretty," he said, and hoped his voice sounded normal.
"She's nice, too. I like her, Daddy," she said with a firm nod of her little head. "It's okay if you have her babysit me anytime."
He managed to keep a straight face. "Well, thank you for the permission. I'm happy you approve."
"Do you like her, too?"
He glanced down, looking into her earnest little face. Did she mean like? Or like?
Either way, the answer was yes. Although the answer to the second intonation was one he should keep to himself. "Yes, I do," he said. "I'd never let someone I didn't like watch my bestest girl. Would I?"
For a minute or two, they walked in silence. They were three houses away from home when she asked, "Do you like her the way Uncle Reece likes Aunt Jenna?"
For a second, Brent's heart stopped, and he quickly assured his daughter that Elena was only a friend.
But at the same time, he wondered how much Faith had seen. She'd only been around him and Elena a couple of times. Was she asking because she was five and kids asked all sorts of embarrassing questions? Or was she asking because she'd picked up on his vibes, and kids noticed all sorts of things you wish they wouldn't?
And if it was the latter, was she the only one who'd noticed his growing attraction to Elena? Or had his friends picked up on it, too? Jenna, maybe. She noticed everything related to her friends' love lives. But she hadn't said a word, so maybe he was in the clear.
Reece? Doubtful. Like himself, Reece was generally clueless about things like that. Tyree? Brent hoped his friend hadn't noticed. Almost as much as he hoped Elena herself had no clue. Because no matter how much he might be attracted to that stunning, fascinating woman, it wasn't going anywhere. And he was absolutely not having a sex-only fling with his good friend's daughter.
Not that he wasn't tempted. And not that he'd
been a monk since Olivia left. With Faith, of course, there wasn't much time for women, especially since he was damn sure not bringing a one-night stand back to the house. But there'd been a handful of times when he'd met a woman at the bar--usually a tourist so that he knew she wouldn't stay--and they'd hit it off enough to end up back in her hotel room.
Jenna was convinced that he was miserable and would shrivel up if he didn't get out and start dating, so he let her believe that not only was there some real interest with those sporadic women, but also that he saw more women than he really did. The truth was that he only hooked up when he was having a bad day, craving not only adult companionship, but physical release. Usually, though, he took care of that himself. He didn't like using women that way, and he didn't like the hollow feeling that inevitably settled over him once it was over.
Better to just be Faith's dad right now. Maybe someday he'd try for a relationship, but not until Faith was older. And definitely not until he was one hundred percent sure that any woman he brought into their life was in for the long haul.
"Daddy?" She tugged at his hand, and he looked down, startled out of his thoughts.
"Sorry, kiddo. Mind wandering."
"Can we watch a movie before you go?"
He did some mental calculations and started to say no. He needed to sit at his desk and pay some bills, and if they watched a movie, he'd have less than ten minutes to get changed and out the door once it ended.
"Of course, we can," he said. Screw the bills. He'd pay them when he got home. Easy to work at three in the morning, anyway. God knows he'd have peace and quiet. "How about Finding Nemo? That's almost like going to a beach."
She clapped her hands gleefully, then ran up the sidewalk to their front door, where she switched from clapping to bouncing. "Popcorn, too? With lots and lots of butter?"
"You got it." He'd have to tell Elena to be sure and get some real food into his kiddo that evening. But right now, buttery popcorn on a Saturday with his best girl and a cartoon fish sounded like a damn good time.
Chapter Five
Elena pulled down the visor on her tiny Honda and checked her makeup. Frowning, she reached for her purse--her lipstick was slightly smeared--then yanked her hand back as if she'd been bitten by a snake.
What on earth was she doing? Here she was, parked in front of Brent's house so that she could go babysit--babysit--and she was checking her freaking makeup? Clearly she had lost her mind.
Faith couldn't care less if her Cranberry Wine was smudged. And as for Brent ... well, she was certain he didn't care either. And she shouldn't care. In fact...
She let the thought trail off as she bent over, then retrieved the box of tissues from the passenger seat floorboard. She tugged out a tissue, wiped it violently over her mouth, then checked herself in the mirror again. Mostly gone. Just a hint of the plum-rose tint that flattered her dark skin. Good. She still looked put together, but not like she'd been trying too hard.
Good Lord. Was she really wasting time thinking about this? Brent wasn't going to notice one way or another. And she needed to just push the man right out of her head.
Easier said than done, though. She hadn't had an actual, solid infatuation since Raymond Jackson in eleventh grade. She was a grown woman; fantasies were one thing--and yes, she fantasized about Brent far too often. But actual crushes were absurd.
And yet here she was, completely pre-occupied with the man. And apparently also completely unable to banish him from her thoughts.
She should have said no. She should have sucked it up, shaken her head, and told Jenna and Brent and the whole wide world that she absolutely couldn't babysit.
But she hadn't. And she couldn't let him down now.
She drew in a cleansing breath, exhaled, then stepped out of the car. She'd been to Brent's bungalow in Austin's Crestview neighborhood before, but today she paid more attention as she walked slowly up the sidewalk to the front door. The lawn was perfectly trimmed, the patio surrounded by flowering shrubs. The front door had been recently painted a deep blue, and the wooden porch gleamed a sparkling white.
Brent was a man who knew how to take care of things, something she would have guessed from the way he took care of The Fix and his daughter, but it was nice to see it played out in other aspects of his life.
Then again, maybe she was just being overly analytical to buy time.
Not that she had a reason in the world to be nervous. This wasn't a date. She'd come to babysit. He wasn't interested in anything more. And that, she told herself firmly, was for the best.
Before she could launch into another bout of nerves, she rang the doorbell, then smiled at the pounding of little feet. A second later, the door flew open and Faith stood there, her eyes wide and her cheeks red with exertion.
"Elena! We just watched Nemo!"
"That's great. I love Dory, especially. And the seagulls."
"Mine!" the little girl said, in a near-perfect imitation of the gulls from the movie. She stepped back, giving Elena room to enter. "We're going to have fun. Daddy said so."
"Then I guess it must be true." She smiled at Brent who stepped in from the kitchen, a dish towel in his hands.
"Sorry. Someone had a little popcorn with her butter. I needed to wash off the greasiness."
Faith looked at her hands, grimaced, then wiped them on her jeans.
"You. Go wash."
"Okay, Daddy." She started to trot that way, but he held out a hand, stopping her.
"Did you ask who it was before you pulled open the door?"
"But it was Elena! We like her!" Her voice rose with indignation, and Elena bit back a smile, pleased to be among the welcome elite.
"We do," Brent said, aiming a wink at Elena that made her insides go all gooey. "But unless you have X-ray vision that I don't know about, you didn't know for sure it was Elena until after you opened the door. Do you have X-ray vision?"
She shook her head. "No, Daddy."
"What's the rule?"
"Always ask who it is before opening the door."
"And?"
Little shoulders rose and fell with a five-year-old's version of guilt-plus-exasperation. "And if I don't know who it is, then I'm not allowed to open the door. But I do know Elena. So I shouldn't be in trouble."
"Mmmm. Not how it works, kiddo. Go on." He gave her a light pat on the bottom. "Wash your hands, then come back in here."
"Okay." She started toward her room, then paused to look back at Elena. "I'm glad you're here. And you really are pretty. Daddy said so." Then she turned and scampered down the hallway, leaving Elena to tame the wild butterflies that had begun dancing in her belly.
Brent shot her a quick glance before shaking his head in exasperation as he watched his daughter disappear.
"Did you really say that?" She knew she shouldn't ask, but somehow she couldn't keep her mouth shut any more than she could turn off the pleasant tingles that were spreading through her body.
He cleared his throat as he stuck his hands in his pockets. "I did," he said, lifting his head to meet her eyes. "Although I was saying it in agreement with Faith's assessment. A little fact she conveniently left out."
She took a further step into the living room, emboldened by his admission. "So you're not just running around telling the world you think I'm pretty?"
"No."
"But you do think so?"
"I just said I did."
She swallowed, knowing she should be quiet, but unable to still her tongue. "I'm glad to hear it," she said, then added in a whisper, "It matters to me what you think."
His head tilted almost imperceptibly, but she'd paid enough attention to him over the last few months to recognize his subtle signals. He was interested. And a little bit unsure. "And why's that?" he finally said.
Her throat tightened, and she wondered if he could hear the pounding of her heart. She almost lost her nerve, but this was opportunity knocking loud and hard, and she'd be a fool to ignore it. "Don't you know?"
r /> He didn't answer. Instead, he simply held her gaze as she kicked herself. She should have said nothing. Or she should have said more. Instead, she'd played it coy, and what if he didn't know? What if he didn't understand at all?
"Elena."
That was all he said, but she thought she heard longing in his voice. Or was that just her imagination? She didn't know. All she knew was that he was looking right at her, and she was starting to feel a little drunk as she stared into those whiskey colored eyes.
A moment passed, then another. And finally she found her voice. "Yes?"
His throat moved as he swallowed. "I think I should show you the kitchen. I've got some leftovers Faith can have for dinner."
"Oh." She felt as if she'd fallen out of a cozy boat into a freezing ocean. "Right."
"I'll be home late. Probably three. You're up for this?"
"Of course." She conjured a smile before following him to the kitchen. "I'm up for whatever you need."
Unfortunately, she could tell perfectly well that he didn't need her.
Chapter Six
Brent had a hell of a time keeping his mind on work. Instead, he kept thinking of Elena. Of her sweet smile. Her lithe body.
Of her seemingly innocent words that weren't innocent at all.
Whatever you need.
God, did she even know what she was offering? Because he wanted a lot. Too bad he couldn't take what she was offering.
What he thought she was offering.
But no. He wasn't that dense. She was interested. And God knew he was interested.
But that didn't mean it was a good idea. On the contrary, he thought, glancing over at where Tyree stood with Reece at the other end of the long oak bar, it was about as bad as an idea could get.
"You look distracted," Jenna said, keeping her hand on her belly as she hauled herself up and onto one of the nearby barstools.
"I'm not distracted," he protested. "What makes you say I'm distracted?"
She laughed. "Maybe the way you've been staring at that proposal for the last ten minutes."
He glanced down at the folder he held open in his hands and the sheath of papers that comprised the security company's plan for installing an upgraded camera system.
"Sorry. I was just--"
"Thinking about camera placement?" she interrupted, her tone innocent. "Why wouldn't you be? After all, cameras are fascinating, and you need to spend lots and lots of time second-guessing the experts you hired to analyze the visual gaps and do the installation."