Amaya

Chubby little fingers tapped at Amaya’s face. “Mommy, I’m hungry.”

She stretched, tempted to pull the covers back over her head, but Peyton was having none of it.

“Hunnnggrrryy. You have to wake up so we can eat.”

With a groan Amaya opened her eyes and smiled at her daughter, peering down at her with a little frown, her curls a wild halo around her head. “I heard you.”

It took her a moment to register the fact that they weren’t in their bed at their condo in Key Largo, and her heart gave a pang of sorrow. Once again, an evil man targeted her at random, ripping apart her world and sending her running. This time, she wasn’t abandoning her life, merely laying low and staying out of sight until the police and FBI did their job and found her stalker. Her stomach clenched as she remembered the incident that had caused her to take off in the middle of the night under the cover of darkness.

Three weeks ago, she’d started to get this...feeling that someone was watching her. At first, she’d dismissed it as her overactive imagination, PTSD paranoia, then the pictures started to arrive. They weren’t anything special, just images of her going about her daily life, but it was enough to have her contacting Kelly, the FBI, and the Key Largo police department. The local cops didn’t know anything about her past, and she had to keep it that way. She’d done everything she could to start a new life without any connections to her previous one. They’d dismissed her concerns at first, thinking she was being overly paranoid. Oh, they were sincere to her face, but she just got a feeling her case was low priority for them. Then, last week, things had begun to escalate in a way even the police couldn’t ignore. First, her studio had been broken into and trashed, then the security guard that patrolled her condo complex had chased off someone trying to break into her home.

The final straw had come when Peyton’s daycare teacher reported that a strange man had tried to lure Peyton away from the school.

That night, with the help of Kelly and Sandra, Amaya and Peyton had fled to the quaint, peaceful little town of Green Haven on the shores of Lake Michigan. Except instead of the cozy cottage Sandra had described, she found an abandoned and neglected home that smelled like Satan’s armpit. The stench had been enough to make her gag when she’d opened the front door. For one moment, she’d just wanted to give up. Maybe if she’d been alone she would have, but quitting wasn’t an option. Not when her daughter depended on her. So Amaya had wiped away her tears and pulled herself up by the proverbial bootstraps, determined to give her daughter the kind of life she deserved, no matter how many times fate seemed to kick her in the face.

Depression tried to tug at her, tried to make her feel hopeless and alone, but she pushed it back and focused on the positive, like her therapist had taught her.

Besides, there were worse places she could end up than in Paul McGregor’s insanely comfortable bed. The sheets smelled like his delicious cologne, so maybe things didn’t start out all that bad. The memory of the way he’d smiled at her, how his hard face would soften as he talked to Peyton, made her all tingly inside. She wondered what he’d look like before he kissed her, gentle and seductive, or if he’d take her mouth deliciously hard and hungry. Butterflies filled her belly and she tried to make them go away.

No. Bad hormones. Kissing Paul McGregor is off the menu.

A meow brought her attention back to her daughter. Next to Peyton’s face, Elvis popped up. The black and white cat belonged to the handsome, kind, funny, and totally out of her league Paul.

Not that she would ever act on her attraction. It was hard to have a relationship with her trust issues. Any man she dated would eventually want to know more about her and ask her questions she couldn’t answer. No, she had Peyton and that was enough. Maybe, someday, when Peyton was in college, Amaya would consider dating again, but for the time being, her life revolved around her daughter.

Wasn’t that kind of sad, when she thought about it?

Reaching up, she scratched Elvis behind the ear, earning a deep purr. Using her free hand, she swept back Peyton’s wavy dark curls. “All right, you two, get off me so I can clean up and make us some breakfast.”

“Mr. Paul is already cooking,” Peyton announced as she clambered down the side of the enormous bed. “He said to wake your lazy bones up.”

As Amaya sat up from the mound of pillows, she was sorely tempted to dive back into them. The sheets smelled like Paul, and she found his scent incredibly comforting. She hadn’t slept this well in a long time, and she yawned hugely before clambering her way off the elevated mattress. Peyton still wore her pajamas and her curls were all over the place this morning. Caring for her daughter’s hair was something of an ongoing battle. The curls had a mind of their own, and it took a lot of product and time to tame them, but Amaya loved them. She could remember when the soft black baby fuzz had begun to spiral into perfect ringlets and how good Peyton’s little head smelled.

“Mommmmyy,” Peyton grabbed her hand. “Come on.”

“One sec, I have to use the bathroom. Tell Mr. Paul I’ll be right down.”

“Okay.” She skipped out the door then a moment later yelled loudly, “Mommy’s going potty!”

Groaning, Amaya darted into the bathroom before she could hear his reply. The bathroom was lovely, all black marble shot with bronze and teal, with frosted windows that let in plenty of light. Enough to see that she woke up in her usual messy state. Though her hair wasn’t curly like her daughters, it was naturally wavy. Once she’d let it out of her braid, it tended to do its own thing. She grabbed a hair tie out of her makeup travel case and secured it back in a sloppy bun.

With a sigh, she opened the drawer of his bathroom cabinet where she’d found the toothpaste last night. In the bright light of day, she noticed a bunch of shiny foil packages with the word ‘Magnum XL’ on them behind the tube of toothpaste.

Startled, she slammed the drawer shut and stared into her surprised expression in the mirror.

Then giggled.

Would it be wrong of her to do a website search for just how big a man had to be in order to qualify for the Magnum XL size?

She was tempted to dissolve into hysterics, the weirdness of the last few days catching up with her, but managed to hold herself together long enough to grab a quick shower.

Though she did burst into immature giggles again as she wondered if his cock was a grow-er or a show-er.

Giving her blushing cheeks a brisk slap, she reminded herself that men were off the menu, because she had other priorities. Like getting the cottage in shape so she could have her own space again. The sooner she got away from the tempting man, the better. Besides, they wouldn’t be here long. Hopefully, the police would find the man stalking her and she’d be able to return to Key Largo. Sandra had offered the cottage indefinitely, but Amaya had begun to put down roots in Florida, and it was the only home Peyton had ever known. Tears threatened as she wished for the thousandth time she could contact her parents, could hear her mother’s voice as she told her everything would be okay, but that wasn’t an option.

No, she had to concentrate on the future, not the past, and make it the best she possibly could for her little girl.

After drying off then picking up her crap off his expansive bathroom counter, she slipped into a pair of denim shorts that hit her mid-thigh, and a slightly off the shoulder pink peasant blouse that went well with her tan. After adding some silver leaf earrings and a matching bracelet, she had to face the fact she was putting a wee bit more effort into looking pretty than usual. She was half tempted to go wash her makeup off and put on the oversized t-shirt she slept in, but that would really show she was thinking entirely too much about Paul as a man, rather than a neighbor.

Using the big mirror over the dresser, she applied mascara to her larger than they used to be eyes. One of the surgeries she’d had done when she’d changed her identity was an eyelid reconstruction that reshaped her eyes and made them more doe-like. Her cheekbones were higher than they used to be, and she’d had a nose job that had changed her formerly bold nose into a cute little button nose. In an effort to help her change enough to not be recognizable, the plastic surgeon had also removed a large scar on her forehead she’d had since she was a kid. A dentist had then fixed the small gap between her front teeth into a perfect smile. She still did a double take sometimes when she caught sight of her reflection, but overall, she was happy with their work and liked the results. While she had to admit she looked nice, she also looked natural—not like a plastic doll.

She wondered if Paul thought she was pretty.

Mentally chastising herself, Amaya quickly brushed on some pale peach lip gloss and decided that was enough. If she put on anymore makeup, she’d have to admit she wanted to look good for Paul. That was dangerous, yet tempting, territory. What was it about that man that drew her? She’d had plenty of handsome men ask her out on dates over the last few years, but none of them had drawn this kind of visceral reaction from her. Maybe it was because he was so big and protective. She felt safe around him, like no one could harm her or Peyton while he was around. At the thought of someone hurting her little girl, she managed to get hold of her hormones and push all thoughts of Paul kissing her out of her mind. By the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, she was sure she could nip this attraction between her and Paul at the bud, and keep their friendship strictly platonic during her stay in Green Haven.

That resolve died a quick and panty destroying death at the sight that greeted her in the kitchen.

The rich scent of coffee tempted her down the stairs, followed by the smell of bacon which had her stomach growling. It was easy to follow her nose to the kitchen where she found Paul, dressed in a pristine white tank top and faded jeans, having breakfast with her daughter. The sight hit her hard for some reason, and she paused, taking a moment to study them as she tried to calm her racing, almost giddy heart. The picture they made together—the contrast between the massive, tattooed and intimidating man with a chubby little girl—struck her, and she wished she had a camera. He dwarfed Peyton with his huge, bulky frame, and there was something Amaya found fascinating about his face. He wasn’t a handsome man. His hawkish nose had been broken too many times to ever sit right. Even his brow was a little too heavy to be considered conventionally good-looking, but he oozed masculinity and self-confidence, two things she found attractive in a man. But his undeniable sexual appeal wasn’t what had her stomach full of butterflies.

No, her heart raced because of the beaming smile her daughter gave Paul as he slowly peeled a green grape with a paring knife that looked impossibly small in his large, capable hands.

Peyton loved grapes, but hated the skins, and Amaya had done herself no favors when she indulged Peyton’s preference in grapes. It wasn’t bad when Peyton was a toddler who ate only a few at a time. But the older her daughter got, the more grapes she wanted to eat. Peeling a dozen of those little suckers was a pain in the ass. Yet Paul sat, patiently peeling grape after grape while handing them off to a waiting Peyton. They chatted while she ate, Peyton telling him stories in between grapes about the beach back in Key Largo. Pain raked at Amaya’s heart as she realized how much her baby missed their home. For the hundredth time she damned that stalker asshole who’d become obsessed with her. They had a good life, with good friends, like Paul’s adorable mom Sandra, and her yoga studio had been thriving. The unfairness of it all made her want to cr, but she managed to keep ahold of herself.

A shiver raced over her skin, raising it up into goosebumps. She rubbed her arms as she walked into a puddle of sunlight coming in through the big bay windows facing Lake Michigan. “It smells great in here.”

Paul gave her a smile that was more a quirk of his lips than anything else as his dark eyes locked onto her. “Morning, beautiful. Help yourself to whatever you want.”

“Um, thanks, Paul.”

Crap. It would be so much easier to put a wrap on her libido if he wasn’t so nice. At least, she thought he was nice. Sandra said Paul had an aggressive nature honed to a point by his time spent in the hyper-competitive NFL. Amaya honestly couldn’t give a crap about professional sports, but she knew enough that he was amazingly talented and wondered what kind of injury had made him retire early. From what she could see, he was still in the prime of his life, and he practically radiated good health. Not a single blemish marred his smooth, tanned skin. While he wasn’t totally cut, he was solid. Virile. She wanted to lick him.

What? No. No licking. Bad Amaya.

Flushing, she shuffled over to the coffee maker in the corner and began to brew herself a cup, all too aware of his eyes watching her. She sensed his gaze on her, and it felt like a soft breath on the back of her neck. More chills raced over her and she couldn’t remember the last time a man’s attention had drawn a reaction from her like this.

Normally having a strange man of Paul’s intimidating size stare at her would make her run away, but she liked his attention. She was strangely comfortable with him, which then made her uncomfortable. Her instincts about men were shit, her history was a prime example of that, and she didn’t need the complication of a relationship. But Paul had called her beautiful. Like he meant it, and with a deep, low note to his voice that gave her belly shivers. Her nipples tingled and she damned them for responding to his presence. Hopefully her bra was thick enough that he couldn’t tell.

When she peeked over her shoulder at him, she found Paul slicing another grape while listening to Peyton chatter, but his attention was solely on her. He’d shaved, but he was the kind of man that would have a five o’clock shadow by noon. It gave his already rough face an almost sinister edge. Though his tank top didn’t dip down that much in front, she could make out the chiseled swell of his large chest muscles covered in a smooth dusting of dark hair. His forearms were similarly furry and there was a light smattering of dark hair on his hands. She bet it would feel amazing to rub her nipples over his furry body. He leaned forward and her gaze darted to his face, finding him watching her with amusement in his eyes, no doubt noticing the way she’d been visually devouring him.

“Mommy,” Peyton said in a loud voice, “Mr. Paul made eggs and they’re so delicious. He put cheese in dem and everything.”

“Not dem, sweetheart, them.”

The response was automatic. Peyton still had problem’s sometimes with pronouncing words with ‘th’ in them, and the smile Paul gave her, the curve of those firm, hard lips, made her pulse beat harder.

“Them. He put cheese in them.”

Paul chuckled, “No problem, princess. I like them better with cheese myself.”

Realizing her coffee had finished brewing long ago, she took the sky blue ceramic cup and set it on the pale granite counter before getting her shit together. “That was very nice of you. Seriously, thank you, Paul. I rarely get the luxury of sleeping in, and your bed is amazing.”

“Sooooo comfy,” Peyton sang out. “Like super comfy.”

“After you eat...” Paul sat back in his chair, his shoulders looking impossibly wide and bulky. “We need to talk about the cottage.”

She tried to smile but her voice came out strained, “After I eat? You mean the news might put me off my meal? Is it that bad?”

“Eat up first.”

“I’d rather hear—”

“Eat, Amaya. End of story.”

Narrowing her eyes at him, she glared, but he calmly looked back with a slight smirk curving his firm lips.

End of story, her ass.

She was tempted to stick her tongue out at him, but didn’t want to set a bad example for Peyton. And she was hungry, starving even. Loading her plate up, she took a seat across the distressed pine kitchen table, her position giving her a prime view of the early morning light over Lake Michigan. The sun was already up, and a few people strolled the sandy shore in the distance as the water sparkled. It was a different view from her condo in Key Largo, but a beautiful one nonetheless. Paul’s house was situated on the crest of a gentle hill set back from the beach. There was something wild about Lake Michigan despite it’s currently placid state, and after living on the beach in first California then Florida, it was taking her a bit to get used to the vibe. She reminded herself that it was only temporary until her stalker lost interest, but she was homesick for her ocean views.

The food was good, and it was nice having Paul there to help keep Peyton entertained while she ate. If he’d been the least bit irritated by her daughter, she would have swooped in and taken over, but he seemed to genuinely listen to Amaya’s little girl like he cared about what she was saying. By the time she’d eaten her fill, he was on his second cup of coffee and talking about the different types of kites he had. Evidently, one of his cousins owned a kite shop where Paul helped out from time to time. He also helped out at his brother’s restaurant, his cousin’s bridal shop, his other cousin’s pizza parlor, yet another cousin’s daycare, and yet another cousin’s construction business. It was this last job that gave Paul the knowledge of just how much it was going to take to fix the cottage.

The news wasn’t good. “Sorry, honey, but the place is in worse shape than I thought.”

She licked her lips and braced herself. “Okay. How bad is it? I mean I didn’t really get a good look at it yesterday. I cleaned out the fridge the best I could and opened all the windows to air the place out, then went down to the beach with Peyton.”

“That house was stinky dinky,” Peyton said with a sour twist to her face.

“I can imagine how bad it was when you got there.” His dark brows drew down in an unhappy frown that changed his face from eye-catching to scary. “Still pissed with myself that you had to go through all that shi-crap.”

“He said crap, Mommy.”

“Peyton Linda, I am sitting right here. If I had an issue with his language, I would have addressed it. Understood?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Sorry, Paul, please continue.”

He seemed amused by her efforts to civilize her child, but continued. “Well, with the roof, new furnace, foundation repairs, and the electrical rewiring...I figure it’s going to take at least three months.”

She almost dropped her coffee cup. “Three months! Shi-shoot, what am I going to do?”

“Stay here,” Paul said instantly.

“That’s crazy, I can’t do that.”

“Why? I need roommates; you need rooms. It’s perfect.”

“You, Mr. Range Rover, need roommates?”

“Yep.” The quirk of his smile gave her belly flutters. “This house is too big for me alone. I’ve got six bedrooms, a library, an office and a man cave. It’s just me and Elvis right now, and it’s too much space for just the two of us. Think of us as your vacation Bed and Breakfast.”

Peyton speared some of her eggs then chewed with an almost comically thoughtful look. “We should stay here, Mommy.”

“Is there anything the house is lacking? I’ll do any upgrades you need to make you happy.” He winked at Peyton. “Want a Jacuzzi tub in your bathroom?”

Peyton giggled as she beamed up at him. “No. I want a dog.”

“Elvis might not be too keen about that.”

She took a sip of her coffee then sighed. “No, you don’t need to get my four-year-old a Jacuzzi tub to make us happy. Honestly, I’m low maintenance. We just needed someplace safe to stay for a while.”

His wide shoulders jerked back, his big chest seeming to swell, as he repeated her words back in a rumbly voice, “Someplace safe?”

Trying to play it off, she gave him an overly bright smile. “You know, kid proof.”

She thought he might question her further, but he merely nodded. The tiny bit of silver in the stubble on his chin glinted in the bright morning light. “Okay. Ready to help me clean up, princess?”

“Yes, sir,” Peyton chirped out as she clambered of her chair.

After they’d cleaned up and got ready for the day, Amaya found herself having a hard time keeping her thoughts platonic around Paul. He was amazing, or at least he seemed like it, which made her doubt him all the more. While she knew her paranoia wasn’t healthy or normal, she had a hard time trusting any man, no matter how honorable he seemed. And Paul...he was too good to be true. From what she’d seen of him and from the family pictures in his home, he was a well-rounded and well-traveled man who’d played high school, college, and professional football. His trophies were displayed in a cabinet in what he called his ‘man cave’—basically a huge den that looked like it would fit in at a frat house. She hadn’t missed the two super bowl rings sitting in one trophy cabinet. Despite his obvious fame and wealth, he seemed really down to earth.

“Ready? It’s about a half hour drive into town.” Paul asked from behind her.

She turned around on his front porch, a smile already tilting her lips, that fell as she took him in. All of him. Up close. He stood within arm’s reach, his delicious, dark and masculine cologne teasing her senses. He wore the same faded jeans from earlier, and they lovingly clung to his thick thighs. Sadly, he’d covered up the beauty of his bare arms with a hunter green t-shirt bearing the faded name of a famous blues band on it. The t-shirt also clung to him, because he was just a big man. Not as big as he’d been in some of the framed pictures in his man cave—he must have had his tuxedos custom made—but still built and so yummy, she wanted to take a bite out of him. He wasn’t super ripped like a body builder, but he was all man with the biggest shoulder’s she’d ever seen.

Perfect for gripping while they kissed.

“Amaya?”

She blinked then smiled as Peyton came out from behind Paul, dressed in a pair of pale blue leggings with a white and pink sundress on top. The short sleeves exposed her daughter’s tanned arms and, as always, Amaya couldn’t resist running her thumb over the smooth skin of Peyton’s hand. Her daughter smiled, then took Paul’s hand and led them both down the wooden front stairs with a bounce in her step.

“Mr. Paul said we’re going to a big playground.”

She raised a brow at Paul. “We are?”

“After we run an errand first, and only if she behaves and it’s okay with you. I told her we could go visit my cousin Linda’s daycare. She wants to meet you both.”

“Okay, but why?”

They reached the truck and after turning it on to get the air conditioner going, Paul easily scooped Peyton into her car seat, his arms flexing and giving Amaya a nice show as she watched. Her daughter seemed at ease around Paul, and Amaya relaxed slightly as she watched him expertly buckle Peyton in her seat.

He glanced over at Amaya as he handed Peyton her tablet. “Why does she want to meet you?”

Peyton ignored them as Amaya shut the door, then turned to Paul. “Yes, why does your cousin want to meet me?”

“’Cause my mom loves you, both of you, and everyone loves my mom.”

She flushed with pleasure, memories of Sandra’s kindness sending a warm burn through her chest. “Your mom is awesome. She was such a help when Peyton was little with showing me how to take care of a cranky baby. I swear, some nights I was ready to pull my hair out, but she was always there to calm me down. I don’t know what I would have done without her.”

“Mom says you’ve had her over at your place a bunch of times for dinner, thank god.”

Utterly confused by his full body shiver, she cocked her head at him. “What are you talking about?”

He cut his eyes to her, and she saw something close to panic in them as he practically whispered, “I visited my mom once, down at her nudist colony, and I still can’t get the visual of old men playing volleyball naked out of my head.”

“We’ve visited her there, too,” she whispered back with a giggle. “It’s no big deal. Your mom and her friends wear clothes when we come over.”

“Lucky you. First day there I got an eyeful of my mom and five of her retiree friends making breakfast, in the nude. Well, except for an apron on the guy’s part, because he was making bacon.”

She burst out laughing, managing to stutter out, “What? They were naked?”

“Yes!” He looked completely icked out. “My flight got changed, and I ended up catching an earlier one out. I wasn’t supposed to be there until later that afternoon, and I wanted to surprise her.”

She bent forward laughing, gasping between her knees, her hair shining in the sun. “Oh, you surprised her all right.”

“Just wrong, on so many levels. I’m still completely traumatized by it.”

Wiping at her eyes, she tried to get herself under control. “You poor thing.”

“So you weren’t part of the colony?”

“What? No, no. That’s totally not my thing. I live in a three-bedroom condo down the beach from your mom’s place where clothing is not optional.”

“How long have you lived there?”

“Around five years. I moved there right before Amaya was born.”

“And you two live there alone?”

She arched a brow. “Why?”

The smile he flashed her made her tingly. “Just curious.”

“Yes, we live alone.”

“No man in your life?”

“None.”

Not wanting to discuss it further, she opened her door and hopped into the truck. Paul must have gotten the hint, because he was quiet as he slid behind the wheel. Peyton hummed in the back seat, oblivious to the tension between Amaya and Paul. The engine hummed as Paul put the truck into gear and she double checked that Peyton was properly buckled in before turning her attention to the road.

She waited for Paul to ask about Peyton’s father, tension prickling along her spine, but he merely turned on a classic rock station and tapped his fingers on the wheel to the beat. Memories filled her as a new song began, Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin. Her dad was a huge classic rock fan. She had fond recollections of driving along the coast in California in his restored 1979 Camaro with him. She remembered singing along at the top of her lungs with him as they cruised along the beach, and how much she loved his free spirit. When she started singing, it took her a little bit to become aware of Paul’s attention on her. She caught him staring and stopped abruptly, embarrassed that he’d obviously been listening to her.

“Awww, don’t stop. You have a beautiful voice.”

“Mommy sings pretty,” Peyton added from the back seat. “She knows so many songs, and she sings them to me all the time.”

“Is that right?”

“It helps me when I’m cranky spanky.”

“Cranky spanky?” Paul asked with a grin.

“When Peyton was a newborn, she would fuss something fierce all-night long. She was a very cranky baby. The only way I could get her to calm down was to sleep with her against my bare chest, with her just wearing a diaper, while I sang to her. My heartbeat and the skin to skin and singing calmed her down when nothing else would.”

“Kangaroo care,” Paul nodded. “My oldest brother’s wife, Jasmin, did that with all her kids. Spent some time myself as a mattress for my nieces and nephews myself when my brother Caleb and his wife needed to get some sleep.”

“Wish I had someone to do that when Peyton was young.”

Her heart hurt, and she looked away, trying to pay attention as they got closer to what she assumed was town. Never had she missed her family more than after Peyton was born. It should have been a joyous time—Peyton was a beautiful baby—but instead it had been a period of her life filled with fear and loneliness. Fortunately, Sandra and her friends basically adopted her and guided her through those tough times. When she thought about it, most of her friends were of the retirement age down in Key Largo. They missed their kids and she missed her family, so they fit well into each other’s lives.

He lowered his voice to a whisper, “So, uh, I take it Peyton’s father wasn’t around?”

She gave him the fake story that she’d told so many times, it had begun to feel real as she whispered back, “No. He chose to not be a part of her life.”

In a louder voice he said, “What an idiot.”

“Pardon?”

Paul looked from her, then into the rearview mirror at Peyton and whispered back, “What kind of moron would have given you up? And that sweet little girl of yours. Let me tell you something, Amaya, if a man has a woman like you, he does everything he can, sacrifices it all, to keep her and make her happy. Like I said, he’s an idiot.”

Her lower lip trembled, and she had to look away again, trying to tell herself he was just being nice. If Paul knew the truth of the situation, he’d probably be horrified then pity her. But he’d never know, so she forced herself to whisper out, “Thank you.”

“Do you want to stop by the cottage first? Get the rest of your bags?”

Crap. How was she going to cover the fact that she’d left home with everything she could shove into the bags currently at his house without telling him her problems? “Um, I didn’t pack much, just what I could quickly grab. That’s all we have with us.” He gave her an odd look and she worried she’d inadvertently revealed more than she intended. “I figured I could go shopping while I was up here. You know, support the local economy and all that.”

Sunlight warmed her face as they pulled onto a two-lane road. “Sounds like you were in a hurry to leave. Everything okay?”

For a moment, she wondered if Sandra had told him about her stalker, but her friend had promised to keep quiet and Amaya trusted her. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

Tapping the steering wheel, he came to a stop light and gave her an intense look that she couldn’t decipher. “You know you’re safe with me, right? Both of you? That I’d never do anything to make you uncomfortable.”

The worry on his face softened her. “I know.”

“Mommy,” Peyton said from the backseat, “can we have ice cream?”

“We just had breakfast.”

Paul glanced in the rear-view mirror, “Maybe if you’re good, and your mom says it’s okay, we can go out for ice cream later tonight. One of my cousins owns the local Dairy Twist. They have the best hot fudge and marshmallow sundaes ever.”

“Mommy can we please go? Pleasseee?”

“We’ll see. If you behave while we’re out running errands, I might consider it.”

“You’re the best mommy ever!”

Paul chuckled, his laughter blending in with the upbeat country music playing on the radio. “She’s adorable.”

“When she gets her way, she is.”

“Wait until she’s a teenager.”

“Please, no. I’m pretending she’ll never be a teenager. Just go from cute kid to graduated from college with a great job and an amazing fiancé.”

“Don’t think that’s how growing up works, sweetheart.” He winked at her. “Though I bet my brother wishes it did. He’s got three girls: Jodi is sixteen, thirteen-year-old Jane, and four-year-old Jenna. All as beautiful as can be. They also have a little boy, Jackson, who’s six, and is already a handful. Thankfully, my brother Caleb’s got me, our brothers Toby and Dean, along with just about a million cousins in town to keep an eye on his kids.”

“Poor girls, they’ll never get away with anything.” She laughed, but it quickly died as she thought about her own family, who’d always been there for her.

“Now, I wouldn’t say that. If they’re anything like me and my brothers and cousins, they’ll cover for each other.”

“True. You must have driven Sandra nuts.”

“Don’t let her sweet little old lady looks fool you. My mom is tough as nails and ruthless.”

“No way.”

“Yes way,” he said with a grin. “My mom raised us to be gentlemen. Now, I’m not saying we actually are gentlemen, but we try to be. To this day I always give my seat on a bus or in a waiting room to a woman because, in the back of my mind, I can hear my mom letting us know, in no uncertain terms, that if she found us ‘sitting on our assholes when a lady was present without a seat, we’d regret it.’”

Trying to picture sweet as sugar Sandra yelling at anyone alluded her. “But your mom’s so chill. She has the patience of a saint.”

“Yeah, well, when she had four heathen boys on her hands, her patience was pretty slim.”

“God, I can’t imagine. Just having one little girl and keeping her clean, fed, and happy is a full-time job. I can’t imagine dealing with four kids.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, his grin turning sheepish in a way she found rather adorable. “Not just four kids, four boys. We were rough and tumble kids who fought being civilized tooth and nail. Since my family owns this peninsula, when I was growing up, we just roamed the land like savages. Summer vacation meant goodbye shirts, but my mom made us wear shoes and pants. That’s where she drew the line.”

“I can just imagine it, an army of Lost Boys plundering the woods.”

“Yep. Not only did you have me and my brothers, we also had nineteen cousins that all lived here around the same age.”

“Wow. Your family is huge!”

“It is. Now you know why my mom escaped to a nudist colony. No one comes and visits her unannounced.”

Her phone rang with the special ringtone she’d assigned to incoming calls from her FBI contact, Agent Marquez.

She debated answering it, then let it go to voicemail.

“Gonna get it?”

“No, just an annoying friend calling to complain about her husband. I can’t handle listening to her right now.” She peeked at Peyton in the backseat and saw the child busy playing an educational game on the tablet Paul had given her.

“Tell her you’re on vacation, no drama allowed.”

She smiled but didn’t say anything, wishing she lived a normal life where she was really just on vacation, where she could enjoy flirting with this man who was obviously interested in her.

Paul turned on a country station and began to sing in a low, sinfully good voice. She couldn’t help but smile as he gave her a roughish grin and sang right to her, long enough to make her heart flutter. Goodness, he was devastating in an unexpected way, rough and powerful on the outside, but so charming her nipples tingled. It was almost unfair how good looking he was. And he seemed to be flirting with her and she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to indulge in the feeling of his firm lips on hers, to run her hands over a perfectly sculpted body.

The song ended and Peyton yelled from the backseat, “Mr. Paul!”

“Yes?”

“Will you sing Frozen with me? Please?”

Amaya snorted as Paul completely folded to her daughter’s sweet as sugar tone. “Sure, honey.”

Peyton squealed, then returned to her game as she sang a couple mangled verses from her favorite song.

“You know the soundtrack to that movie?” Amaya asked while tilting her head with a smile.

“Of course. Even went to a live action singalong while I was down in Disney World with my family. They pulled me up on stage to sing, but I think that had more to do with football than my boundless talent as a singer.”

Giggling, she shook her head and smiled. “It’s weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“I mean, I know you’re famous, but it’s like an abstract thought.”

“Translation, please?”

“Well, while my head knows your famous, you just aren’t. I mean you don’t act like it. You’re...well, you’re nice. Normal, even.”

When he didn’t say anything, she was afraid she’d offended him. Then he let out a low breath. “Thank you, Amaya. It means a great deal to me that you think I’m nice. A lot of people don’t, and for a long time I wasn’t, but you two seem to bring out the best in me.”

Her flush must have been burning bright in her cheeks, so she turned away to face the window, once again paying attention to her surroundings. “Where are we?”

“East side of Green Haven. Got a couple friends and relatives who own some stores out here. My cousin Mari just opened a kid’s clothing store, and to be honest, she could use our business right now. Her husband Danny is recovering from a spinal injury he got on the job, forklift he operated at the boat dock fell on him, and they’re down to one income combined with medical bills. Not to mention the capital they put up to rent this place and buy their stock. She’s been struggling but won’t accept any help, wants to do everything on her own. I figured I’d offer to buy some stuff for your kidlet as an opportunity to help them out surreptitiously. You know, all sneaky like. I figured Peyton could use a new summer wardrobe.”

How the man could make her want to smile and strangle him baffled her. “Paul, you don’t have to. Seriously, I have money. I can afford to buy Peyton anything she needs.”

“Of course you can, but this is my way of helping Mari. When I was growing up we were thick as thieves and I know how stubborn she is about accepting help. She wants to do everything on her own.” He chuckled, obviously deep in thought while she studied his rugged profile. The smile that creased his face softened it somehow, made him not quite so thug-ish. “While I admire Mari’s do-it-herself attitude, it’s a pain in the ass because everyone needs help sometimes. I consider it a privilege to be there for her when she needs it. I’ve been financially blessed, many times over, but I didn’t grow up rich.”

“Really? Your mom’s place down in Key Largo is in a super nice gated community.”

“Yeah, now she can afford to live with a bunch of other rich, naked people, but growing up we didn’t always have it easy.”

“How so?”

For a second she worried she’d overstepped her bounds, but he didn’t appear offended by how nosy she was being. Amaya was quickly learning that Paul seemed to be one of those guys that was an open book, that told it how it was. Considering her father was that kind of guy, she knew how both good and bad this could be. Good because she’d never have to guess where she stood with him; bad because sometimes men that told it how it was could be unexpectedly brutal to those of a more sensitive nature. She’d once seen her dad rip a guy a new asshole once over some subpar service he’d received on an oil change. By the time her dad was done ranting, the poor mechanic had been near tears.

Paul distracted her from her memories as he ran a hand over his head. “There was a year when we had a really lean Christmas, when the economy went down the shitter and work had dried up. This is a small town, and when the copper mine ran out, so did the jobs. A lot of people moved, but my dad was hell bent on keeping our family on the McGregor Peninsula and in Green Haven. He invested all his money in opening a local restaurant, and when I say all of it, I mean all. Things were tight, but my extended family came together and gave us a Christmas we’d never forget. They decorated our house, bought presents, filled the house with food and all came over on Christmas Day for a potluck dinner. They bought us a big freezer for the basement, and by the time the party was over we had enough pre-made meals to get us through the next three months. Never once did they make us feel like we were accepting a handout or charity. It’s just what families are supposed to do for each other.” The fond smile on his face made her chest warm with a pleasant flush. “You know, bad times come and bad times go, but as long as you have memories of what it’s like to be loved, really loved, by your family, you’ll be okay. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. My family was the same. Both sets of my grandparents were awesome, but in different ways. My dad is like tenth generation American, a mix of European and Slavic countries. My mom is second generation. Her parents came from Mexico when they were newly married back in the 80s. Between the two of them, we had an...eclectic cultural upbringing. It was fun.”

“Your parents live down in Florida?”

“Um, no.” Her voice cracked and she blinked rapidly. “Anyway, let’s go do some damage at your cousins’ shop. I’m sure we can manage to pay her mortgage for the next few months.”

Paul studied her for a moment. She was afraid he was going to want to know more about her family, but he just nodded slowly then smiled. “Atta’ girl. Make my black credit card bleed red.”

She couldn’t help but laugh as her dark mood lifted. “You did not just say that.”

“It was my line in this cheesy movie I did for a childhood friend of mine. He wrote this script, and it was awesome, but he was a nobody at the time. I decided to make a cameo in it. That was my only line, and it was so good, it got me nominated for a Golden Globe. Can’t believe you didn’t know that.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Yeah, I totally am.”

For a moment, she just stared at him before she erupted in laughter so loud Peyton began to join in. Her daughter was so full of joy. She loved to laugh, even if she had no idea why she was laughing. It was easy to dismiss Paul as some big, dumb musclehead. Lord knew, she’d met more than her fair share of that type on the beaches of Key Largo, but he was smart and quick. She liked the playful banter between them and appreciated his somewhat odd sense of humor.

“You, sir, are a Jerkasaurus Rex.”

Now it was his turn to laugh, and Peyton’s giggles tinkled through the air like bells.

Shaking his head, he licked his lips and his eyes darkened a little bit. “You have a sassy mouth, young lady. Might have to do somethin’ about that later, when little eyes aren’t around.”

An all too pleasant shiver went through her core and landed between her legs, making her sex pulse gently. She tried to think of some kind of sexy, smart, yet subtle comeback, but her mind was blank, caught up in his intense gaze. When he wasn’t making her laugh, the sexual attraction between the two of them was growing at an alarming pace. He made her achingly aware that she was a young, healthy woman who’d gone without intimacy for far too long.

Too bad this was the absolute worst time for her to form any kind of attachment to any man.

“You wish.”

“Love, you have no idea how much.”

Well, what did she say to that?

He turned down the music as they pulled into a strip mall designed to look like a bunch of log cabins connected by a massive covered walkway that resembled a giant wraparound porch. It was cute, and the landscaping looked new. There were big bronze statues of bears, deer, and a mouse all surrounding a manmade pond at the end of the parking lot, along with tall bronze cat tails and a fountain. This was the kind of collection of high end shops she’d seen in Miami, but with pine trees instead of palms.

Paul helped her out, then stood back as she took Peyton out of her seat then held her hand. Amaya turned back to the man watching them with a disconcertingly soft look. “My girls ready?”

“Ready.”

Amaya hesitated as she adjusted her purse. “What store are you taking us to?”

Paul pointed to a pink, purple, and cream toned shop over his left shoulder. “Della’s.”

“I need to check my messages real quick and answer some calls. Would it be too much to ask if you could please take Peyton inside while I do?”

His face hardened for a moment. She wondered if she’d overstepped her bounds as a guest, but then he smiled and she relaxed. “Sure, if it’s okay with Peyton? Miss Mari has a carousel inside that you can ride on and a play area.”

Peyton stopped shuffling. The little girl was constantly in motion when she first got out of her car seat. She beamed a smile at Paul that had him melting like putty in her little hands. “Yes, please!”

“I’ll be right there. Thank you so much.”

“Amaya, it’s no big deal.”

“Well, to me it is, so thank you.”

His dark eyes softened to liquid chocolate, and she found herself wanting to go with them. “Take your time. I’ve got her. Is she okay with strangers?”

“Yep. She’s been to daycare, so she usually has no problem talking to new people.”

Paul smiled at her daughter again, that soft smile that made her breath catch and warmth explode in her veins. “Ready, princess?”

“Yes!” the little girl squealed.

Amaya watched them climb up the wooden steps of the small shopping complex, vaguely aware that other women were also appreciating the show of Paul’s big, brawny body in motion. Normally, she wasn’t into super muscled guys. They often spent so much time in the gym working out that they didn’t have time for much else, but there was so much strength in his every move. He carried himself with grace despite his size...and he had a world class butt.

She would bet he was greased lighting on the football field and a hurricane beneath the sheets.

Once they were out of sight, she leaned against the truck and gave herself a brisk mental slap before checking her messages. The first couple were from her friends back in Key Largo. They had no idea she was no longer in town, so they were reminding her of various dinners, lunches, and parties she’d been invited to. Then there was a call from one of her girls at work, wondering where she’d been last night and if she was okay. It was the final message that made her blood run cold.

“Amaya,” Kelly’s familiar voice came from the tiny speaker in her phone, “call me when you can. It’s very important.”

With her heart beating fast, she returned Kelly’s call.

The older woman’s smooth voice filled her ear, “Amaya?”

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I have some news that isn’t good. Are you alone so you can talk openly?”

She glanced around the parking lot and saw nothing out of the ordinary or anyone close enough to hear her. “Yes. Kelly, please, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

“First, I want you to know I have a team working on this around the clock and I’ve already contacted a reliable man to watch your back while you’re in Michigan. His name is Dean McGregor, another one of Sandra’s boys. She told me you’re staying with Paul? Something about her cottage being uninhabitable?”

“Yeah, we’re staying at his place while some repairs are done to Sandra’s cottage.”

“Give me a day and I’ll get you into a safe place of your own.”

“It’s okay, really. I like having him around. He’s a big guy and I have to admit, I slept better knowing he was nearby.”

“Are you sure you’re comfortable there?”

“I’m sure, and Peyton seems to adore him. She’s happier when he’s around.”

The other woman’s voice changed slightly, going a little bit higher, when she asked, “Well then, it sounds like you two are well taken care of for the moment. Dean will meet up with you later tonight at Paul’s house to update you.”

“Kelly, what’s going on? Did you find the stalker?”

“No, no sign of him. We checked the footage from the daycare’s security cameras, but he was wearing a hat and sunglasses so we didn’t get a good shot of his face. They’ve run it against the security footage from your yoga studio, and we think we might have a match, but they’re not sure.”

Her skin prickled with sweat and she glanced around the parking lot like her stalker would suddenly appear out of nowhere. “Shit.”

“I swear to you, we will keep you safe. For right now I want you to stay where you are. Hopefully, your continued absence will drive him to do something reckless. The FBI has your house, your yoga studio, and Peyton’s daycare back in Florida all monitored 24/7. You are only to talk to me on my secured lines. I need you to let me know everyone that tries to contact you, and I need you to lay low. No talking with friends back in Key Largo, no paying bills or anything of the sort. Your lawyer will take care of all of it.”

“What about my studio?”

“Already covered. Amy and Donna will handle your classes, and if it’s okay with you, and they’re going to hire another part-time instructor to cover your absence.”

“Yes, of course that’s fine.” She wanted to argue that she had responsibilities she couldn’t ignore, that they had a life back in Florida, but one thought of her daughter’s safety was all she needed to make the tough call. “How long do you think I’ll be up here? Will I ever be able to go back to Key Largo?”

“Honestly? I don’t know, but I won’t give you the all clear to go back until I’m certain you’re safe.”

“Shit.”

“Hey now, don’t sound so down. We’ll find this guy. I’m probably being overly cautious, but I think you’re much better off in a small town where everyone knows everyone. If strangers come around asking questions about you, someone will know. How long do you think you’ll be staying with Paul?”

“Until the cottage gets repaired. He seems to think it’ll take at least a few months.”

“You don’t have to stay with him if you don’t want to, but it might be the best for now. I know Paul. He’s a big guy, and it would make me feel better to know you weren’t up there alone with Peyton. How is my sweet girl doing?”

“Good, at least for now. She seems to view this as a big adventure. Paul’s amazing with her, he has lots of experience with kids, so that helps.”

“I’m glad. Keep this phone on you at all times. It’s as secure as we can make it, and I need to be able to contact you quickly if your situation...changes.”

“I will.”

“I wish I had longer to talk to you, but I’m needed in a meeting. Listen to Sherriff Dean McGregor, consider his advice, and give that sweet little girl of yours a big hug. Love you, kiddo, and I promise we’ll catch that bastard.”

“Love you too, Kelly. Bye.”

The glass of the window was warm against the cool skin of her forehead and she wondered vaguely if she needed to put her head between her legs to keep from passing out.

After she’d managed to steady herself, she became aware of a presence out of the corner of her eye and inwardly groaned as Paul’s cologne teased her nose.

Shit.

“Amaya,” he said in a low, concerned voice, “You okay?”