Paul

When Amaya raised her tear-swollen face to his, utter despair clung to her like a lead cloak, dragging her shoulders down. Her chin quivered as she wiped at her face with a shaking hand. Her rapid breathing and the way she kept scanning the parking lot like she expected an attack worried him deeply. She seemed so fragile, so beaten down by the world, that he found himself sweeping her up into his arms and holding her tight. He had this crazy, intense need to protect her, to slay whatever dragons were chasing her and keep her safe, no matter what.

“What’s going on?”

“Where’s Peyton?”

“She’s perfectly safe inside with Mari and her staff. I glanced outside and saw you crying, but figured you wouldn’t want Peyton to see. Why are you so upset?”

“I don’t want—” Her breath hitched. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Unable to stand the sadness radiating off her, he pulled her into a hug.

She felt brittle in his arms, so he gently rubbed her back.

For a moment, she resisted him, tried to wiggle out of his arms, but eventually she gave in and let him totally support her as she silently cried with big, wracking shudders. People gave them questioning looks, but no one dared approach him as he wrapped himself physically around Amaya’s delicate body and glared at anyone that stared. Slowly stroking her hair, he waited until her soft cries turned into deep hitching breaths before pulling away and holding her by her shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

She chewed her lower lip and looked down at the dark asphalt of the parking lot, scuffing one foot along the yellow line. “Yea, just stuff back home.”

“Stuff? Bad stuff?”

“It’s not good stuff.” She scrubbed her face then sighed. “Look, Paul, I really don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

Something was obviously going on. He needed her to open up to him, but first he had to get her to trust him, and that wouldn’t happen if he pushed her. His protective instincts were roaring at him to fix whatever was making her so sad, but his rational mind was giving him clear signals to back the fuck off. In reality, she barely knew him. He could only hope that she’d learn that she could depend on him.

“All right.”

Her reddened eyes filled with confusion, and she momentarily bit town her full lower lip before releasing it. “All right?”

“Yep.”

“Just like that?”

“Yep, just like that. You don’t want to talk about it, and I respect that. Just know that when you’re ready, I’m here.”

She closed the distance between them and hugged him again, her generous breasts crushing against his chest as his body cradled hers. “Thank you.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

The piercing in her dimple twinkled in the sunlight as she nodded, her shoulders lifting as she took a deep breath. “I’m okay.”

Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she sighed. “Are you sure Peyton all right in there by herself?”

“Positive. She’s inside playing dress up with Mari. My cousin has a whole section dedicated to pretend play clothing that looks like mini-versions of the real thing. Really cool stuff. When I left, Peyton was dressed up like a football playing tap dancer who was into cowboy hats.”

While it wasn’t a full out smile, the sweet curve of her full lips settled something inside of him. “Thanks. You’re right, I don’t want her to see me like this. She’s very sensitive to my moods and she’d get upset.”

“No problem, honey. Now whatever’s worrying you, put it out of your head. I’m here, and I’m going to take care of you.”

She tilted her head at him, the sadness leaving her expression a bit as her inner fire came out. “Take care of me? Paul, I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

Oddly enough, her sass only calmed him further. Her giving him attitude was better than her being scared. And he found it hot. “Too bad.”

Her back went straight, and she put her fists on her hips, making him want to kiss that sulky scowl off her pursed lips. “Excuse me?”

“Too bad.” Taking a step closer, he got into her space. The way her eyes were shooting pissed off sparks at him sent a hot rush of blood to his shaft. “I’m going to take care of you, and you’re going to let me.”

“Oh, the hell I am.”

He backed her up until she pressed against the side of his Range Rover, the soft curves of her body less than an inch away from his as he got into her space. “You’re a strong, independent woman. I get it, but Amaya, I’m still going to help you. Not because you can’t do it yourself, but because I want to. I need to.”

She pushed at his chest, but there was no way in hell a little thing like her was getting him to move if he didn’t want it. “I don’t need your help. Now back off.”

Changing tactics, he brushed her hair back from the side of her face so he could murmur in her ear, “Like that old song goes, honey, everybody needs somebody sometime.”

She stilled, then pressed her hands lightly to his chest. “Did you just quote Dean Martin?”

“Yep. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m a big fan of his music. When I was a kid, I’d put on my mom’s old records, get one of my dad’s suit jackets, and lip sync his songs in front of my mirror.”

While she didn’t laugh, her smile still made him feel better. “I don’t believe it.”

Leaning in, he sang softly into her ear, enjoying the way she shivered.

He’d been with enough women to easily read the change in her body language, the way she tilted her head slightly as if offering him the graceful column of her neck to nibble on. The silk of her pink and blonde hair brushed his face as he paused for one moment, barely running his lips over the shell over her ear before pulling back. Either it had been awhile since anyone had touched her, or she was feeling the same crazy attraction he was, because her body shivered against his in the way a woman’s would if he was really working her clit.

All from a brush of his lips against her ear.

“You really should move before someone sees us.”

Her hands pressed to his chest, no longer pushing him away and instead caressing. He enjoyed the dazed look on her lovely face as he leaned down, their lips close enough he could smell the hint of cinnamon on her breath. “Is that really what you want me to do? Go away?”

Her body shifted as she leaned the slightest bit closer, and her voice came out whisper soft as she breathed out, “Yes.”

Unable to help himself, he gently rubbed his nose along hers. “You sure?”

She nodded slowly, but her arms went around his neck, her hands gently rubbing his shoulders, soothing him in a way that made him want to both moan and growl. The scent of her earthy perfume stroked his senses, and his skin pricked with awareness. Something about her revved him up, gave him a driving need to possess, to cherish this mysterious female. Her lips softened and she slowly licked the lower one, the drag of the pink tip over the plush surface of her lips starting an ache in his balls.

Then she bit her lower lip, like he so wanted to, and he couldn’t stop himself from mirroring her motion. She dug her nails lightly into his chest and he had a sudden, intense, vision of those nails raking his back as he teased her with his cock.

Shit, back up, asshole. She’s obviously dealing with some issues right now, and satisfying your greedy dick isn’t one of them. Keep it light, keep her talking.

“People are staring at us,” she muttered as the minimal space between them slowly closed.

Trying to get her to smile, and keep her from feeling his hard dick where it painfully pressed into the metal of his zipper, he grinned and picked up a strand of her silky hair that was dyed a bright pink. “Nah, we totally blend.”

“Anyway,” she said with a spark in her eyes that had been missing behind the weight of her sorrow, “Thank you for being so cool about this. I mean, looking from the outside in, these past few years of my life could easily be on a soap opera. I’m sorry I brought all this drama into your life.”

The shame coating her every word echoed inside of him, drawing out an unexpectedly honest response.

“You think this is drama? Try having a very nasty, and very public divorce from your wife who cheated on you dozens of times with your fellow football players. Then try having to live through videos of your wife, who you’ve known since you were fourteen, cheating on you. Yeah, my ex has pornos of her floating around the Internet. She made tons of money off them, too. Thea, my ex, loves the attention. As a result, my divorce got played out and sensationalized in the press.”

“Oh, Paul.” Amaya sighed then cupped his cheek, stroking her thumb over his jaw. “That’s terrible. I truly mean that.”

The compassion in her gaze had words spilling out of him. “It fucking sucked in every way possible. I have nightmares about being chased by unscrupulous reporters. I was still going through physical therapy for my neck injury, so I was in pain all the time. I got hooked on painkillers, using them to numb myself to the point that I became a zombie. There was never a lack of people around me who were only too happy to feed me hardcore narcotics as long as I had the money to pay them.” He took a deep breath and told her a secret only a few people knew. “At one point, I almost hit rock bottom and sobered up. Or at least tried to. Getting off opiates is no joke, and I knew I’d have to go into rehab. The thought of the public ridicule I’d face, the embarrassment, was more than my overinflated pride could take. So I tried to do it on my own. When that didn’t work, I almost gave up. Thankfully, my brothers staged an intervention.”

“Did it work?”

“Only reason I survived was because I came home and my family took care of me. My mom sat my ass down in that cottage of hers, and with the help of a private doctor and nurse, detoxed me. I was in a dark place mentally, but she never left my side. Depression and detoxing is a bitch, and there were a few times I would have gladly taken a handful of pills and just not woke up.”

Her arched brows drew down over her big doe eyes as she wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight hug. “You suffered from depression?”

His first instinct was to lie, to expose no further personal flaws around Amaya. But he needed her trust, so he had to be honest. “Yeah. I got help for that as well. After I’d kicked the habit, as part of my rehab, I began hiking. Something about being out there, in nature, surrounded by nothing but raw beauty, it soothes my soul. Gave me a lot of time to think, to start working on being the kind of man I wanted to be instead of the entitled asshole I’d become.” He took in her sad expression and tried to lighten the mood. “Some people might say I’m still a work in progress.”

Her soft laugh made him smile and her pelvis pressed momentarily into his erection before she jerked her hips away. She went still in his arms, and he had the oddest sensation she’d just noticed how close they were, how well their bodies fit together. He’d been with enough women to know what sexual attraction felt like, but the sudden awareness growing between them was dangerous. When she licked her full lower lip while gazing at his mouth, he couldn’t help the groan that rumbled through his chest as the muscles flowing down his back tightened. Those full, sinful lips of hers just begged a man to see just how soft they were.

For a moment, he thought she might close the distance between them, give him some indication she’d welcome his touch, but instead she stepped back with a shaky smile. “Can I ask you to do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“Can you help me pretend everything’s normal? I don’t want Peyton to pick up on my stress, but it’s hard. She’s so attuned to me that she knows when I’m upset, and it bothers her. I’d rather suffer a thousand deaths than cause her one moment of fear.”

She lifted her chin and blinked back tears as her lower lip quivered. The sight of her trying so hard to keep it together had him pulling her into his arms. The thick silk of her hair brushed his fingers as he wound his fist into the smooth strands and pulled her head back. Hot lust surged through him, but he fought the urge to take and take until she was completely wrung out, overloaded on orgasms and completely blissful. Once again, he forced himself to savor her and was instantly rewarded. The warm tan of her skin flushed dark high on her cheekbones and her gaze went from wide-eyed, to heavy with desire.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers, swallowing her gasp then the heady sound of her little moan. Electricity raced through him, tightening his muscles, making his heart race like he’d been shocked. Right away, her hands went around his neck and her firm and curvy body pressed flush with his. Another little moan left her as she molded herself against him, this time with a wiggle of her hips that had him seeing stars. His dick pressed painfully against the confines of his jeans and he deepened their kiss.

The cinnamon taste of her caressed his tongue as her lips parted and welcomed him in. Damn, she tasted good and he greedily sampled her mouth. The kiss drove the need to fuck her into oblivion, and he tried to keep from grinding into her like a man who’d just gotten out of jail after ten years. His cock urged him on, demanding he get her to make more of those noises while he ate her no doubt sweet pussy or took her hard. The ridged tips of her breasts rubbed against his chest and he longed to reach between them and give her a good tweak, test her to see how sensitive she was, how rough he could play. She bit his lower lip hard enough to sting and a growl escaped him that had her groaning in response while her nails prickled his scalp.

For a moment, he considered throwing her into the backseat, but the remembrance of who he was, and where he was, and who was waiting for them threw a damper on those thoughts.

With great reluctance, he broke their kiss then leaned back and smiled. “Better?”

She blinked slowly at him, reminding him of the way Elvis looked when he found a particularly good patch of sunshine to lie down in. “Why did you do that?”

“What, kiss you?”

“Yeah.”

“You seemed like you needed it.”

The dreamy look left her eyes, replaced by the sparkle of anger that he found super-hot. “I needed it?”

“Yep, and I was more than happy to oblige.” He winked at her. “You didn’t seem too upset.”

While riling her up was fun, he needed to get her inside. They were attracting a great deal of attention arguing, then kissing, and now clinging to each other in the parking lot. Out of the corner of his eye, he’d seen more than one person openly staring at them. Because of his size and rough looks, he drew attention everywhere he went. Amaya attracted attention on her own because she was gorgeous with the kind of big, happy smile that people couldn’t help but respond to.

Plus, he was related to at least three of the people currently watching them.

No doubt the McGregor Peninsula gossip network would be firing to life right now.

“You arrogant—”

Before she could go on a tirade, he grinned. “Come on, let’s get Peyton before I get arrested for mauling you.”

She muttered something unflattering, but he ignored her scowl and instead grinned at the sparkle in her chocolate brown and amber eyes.

Taking her hand in his, he led her into the store, well aware of the chatter no doubt flowing about Paul making out with some mysterious beauty in the parking lot. A mysterious, exotic by Greenhaven standards, woman. With pink and purple hair, and the sexiest piercing he’d ever seen on a woman. She was really a stunning woman, but she seemed unusually shy at times. Amaya’s gaze was firmly on the ground, avoiding looking at anyone staring at her. He hated that she felt like she had something to be ashamed of by kissing him.

Rather than being embarrassed by the attention, Paul wanted to beat his chest and tell everyone that Amya and Peyton were his. An unknown primal side of him demanded that he claim these female’s as his to protect, his to love. When Peyton smiled at him, he felt like king of the world, and he adored the way she stumbled through life without fear. Amaya was a great mom, and he admired her dedication to her daughter. While some guys may have been driven off by the fact that Amaya would always put her child’s happiness above her own, he understood.

He glanced down at the woman he was rapidly growing obsessed with and couldn’t wait to feel her shatter around him as she moaned his name. The little diamond piercing in her dimple winked at him in the bright sunlight, and he liked how it twinkled whenever she smiled.

He wondered if she smiled or moaned when she climaxed.

That thought sent a bolt of arousal straight to his cock, and he mentally changed gears. His jeans were tight enough that his erection would show, so he took a moment to subtly adjust himself, while keeping an eye on Amaya. Shit, he had more important things to worry about, mainly making sure his girls were safe. He had a security system on the house, but it was due for an upgrade. He made a mental note to call his cousin to come by and make sure the retractable steel shutters worked on all the windows. Living on the lakefront meant they got some powerful storms, the kind that could shatter windows, but they would be handy if he ever needed to lock his house up tight. Maybe he should have his doors replaced as well.

Dean—he had to talk to his brother, find out what he knew.

And he had to look into maybe getting a dog.

A big dog.

No, wait—a little one. He didn’t want to scare Peyton with some beast of a dog.

But he’d have to put a fence in of some kind.

Yeah, he had lots to do, but first they had to retrieve Peyton from under a mountain of costumes. Then Paul would have to figure out how to keep Amaya from trying to pay the bill behind his back. Yeah, she said she had money, but so did he and his father would tan his hide if he didn’t take care of his girls. Giving Amaya’s slender hand one more squeeze before they entered his cousin’s shop, he couldn’t help but grin as Peyton yelled out both ‘Mr. Paul’ and ‘Mommy’ with delight.

With a laugh, Amaya swept her daughter—who wore a mermaid costume and a Viking inspired biker helmet—up into her arms. The sight of the together, of the obvious love they had for each other, made his chest hurt in a good way. Peyton chattered excitedly while his cousin watched him with open amusement. If his face reflected half the things he was feeling about them, he probably looked goofy as shit with the way he was grinning.

The bell over the door rang. Amaya tensed then whirled around, her gaze going to whoever had just entered the store. The smile fell from her face and he swore she looked terrified for one brief, agonizing moment. He turned, instantly ready to defend her from whoever had scared her, but it was only a young couple with their newborn in a big pink and grey stroller. By the time he turned back to Amaya, she was acting normal again, talking with his cousin about Peyton’s taste in clothing and what she liked to wear. He moved closer to them, putting his body between Amaya’s and the door. While he couldn’t openly reassure her, he could physically let her know he literally had her back.

Mari joined him as they watched Peyton show Amaya all of her outfits. “So Peyton and Amaya are staying with you?”

“Yes, at least until we get the cottage fixed up.”

“Hmm,” his cousin replied. “She’s adorable and funny. I have to say, for her age, she’s very smart. You should hear the stories she made up for some of her outfits. And those curls. I have no idea how Amaya finds the time to maintains them, but her curls are to die for.”

“Amaya’s a great mom,” he said with pride ringing in his voice.

“And very beautiful.”

He looked at his cousin out of the corner of his eye. “She is.”

“My mom said she’s single.”

Amaya gracefully crouched down next to her daughter as she helped Peyton take off her mermaid tail in favor of a sparkly tutu.

Paul snapped his attention to Mari. “Wait, how does Aunt Nancy know about Amaya?”

“Please.” Mari rolled her eyes. “Do you honestly think you could have a woman and her daughter living with you without everyone knowing? I’m sure the second my mom found out she called Aunt Sandra for the details.”

Curious despite himself, he continued to watch Amaya as she played with her daughter. “What did she find out?”

“Nothing much. Just that Amaya and Peyton were friends of Aunt Sandra’s down in Florida, and that they were going to be up here for the summer. And that Amaya was very single. You should know my mom and her group of busybodies were very interested in your situation. They’re already getting together to discuss the seating arrangements for your wedding. It’s a very delicate business when the groom’s side numbers around five hundred. I feel a luau coming on.”

He rolled his eyes. “God save me from Aunt Nancy and her pack of crazy women.”

“Awww, come on.” Mari bumped his shoulder. “You know they love you.”

“Yeah, but they love matchmaking even more.”

“They just worry about you being in that big house all by yourself.”

“Hey, Elvis lives there, too.”

Instead of laughing, Mari’s sun-lined face went soft and gentle. “You have so much to offer, so much love to give. I know Thea was a total—” She glanced over where Peyton was playing in front of a mirror before continuing. “A total you-know-what, but you deserve to be happy.”

“Paul,” Peyton said in an excited voice. “Come be my knight, please!”

He turned his attention back to Peyton as she ran over with a plastic shield and sword. She still wore a tutu, but she’d added a crown and what looked like a lab coat to her look. “A knight?”

“Here!” She gave him the props and a huge smile when he took them and struck what he hoped was a knight-like pose.

Amaya wandered over with her arms full of little girl clothes. She had a kid’s sized pink construction hat perched on her head. “Well, don’t you look dashing.”

He bowed, holding the small plastic shield over his heart. “My lady.”

She laughed, then turned to Mari. “You have an amazing store.”

“Thank you.” Mari gestured to the counter. “Here, why don’t you put those down. Your daughter seems to like glitter, and we just got the cutest rompers in.”

Amaya glanced over at him and he grinned. “Go ahead, I’ve got Peyton.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Sir Paul is on duty.”

To his surprise, she leaned up on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, my lady.”

Later that night, with Peyton safely in bed and Amaya armed with a big glass of wine, they sat across from each other in the living room and relaxed. She took a deep drink from her glass, her tanned, toned legs tucked beneath her as they both looked out through his massive living room windows at the water. It was the second sunset they’d watched together, but so much had happened in the last twenty-four hours, his mind was still processing it all. He pretended to look out at the water, but he was really watching her profile while she sipped her wine, deep in thought and looking incredibly weary.

With her hair up in a ponytail and no makeup, she appeared fragile in a way he wasn’t used to. Then he realized he was catching a glimpse of the scared young woman beneath her mask of false bravado. That protective instinct reared its head, demanding he pull Amaya onto his lap so he could hold and pet her until she relaxed. That he drive the dark thoughts from her mind with so much pleasure, she’d fall into a deep sleep with a smile. Satisfaction from that mental image settled in his mind and the muscles along his neck and back eased, bringing relief from the slightly nagging pain he’d been experiencing today. While the mattresses in his guest bedrooms were great, he was used to sleeping on his and the pins in his neck were a little achy.

“Does your neck hurt?”

He startled, realizing that he’d begun to rub it while looking out at the darkening shoreline. Peyton was in bed, and the sun didn’t set some summer evenings until 9:30 at night. The clink of Amaya’s glass hitting the table drew his attention, and he watched in confusion as she moved across the living room to his side, then tossed over a teal throw pillow so she could sit on her knees beside him. This close he could smell the tropical body lotion she used and he swore her nipples beaded before his eyes, despite the thick white sports bra she wore beneath her loose pink top that slouched off one shoulder.

“You mentioned an injury to your neck. May I see it?”

“Not much to see. Just a small scar.”

“Is it okay if I touch you? I’ll be very gentle, I promise.”

He tried to keep his tone casual as he said, “Sure.”

Her heat wrapped around him as she leaned closer, the cushions compressing and drawing him back into her. “What happened?”

For a moment, he was transported back to Heinz Field in Pittsburgh, the massive stadium filled to capacity for the playoff game. He’d been standing on the sidelines, psyching himself up for the big game while listening to last minute instructions from his coach. The smell of testosterone and aggression hung heavy in the air. That was the last thing he remembered. From watching tapes, he knew that right before halftime, he’d been hit by two big linemen from the opposing team, sandwiched between them. As soon as they moved off him, it was obvious he was out. Seeing his unresponsive body on the field, even on video, never failed to mess with him.

“Got hit hard in my last game. Screwed up a couple discs in my neck and pinched a nerve.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

With one hand, she gently traced her fingertip over the scar, sending an odd jumble of impulses from his damaged nerves to his brain. Goosebumps rose up along his arms and a tremor tightened the muscles around his neck and spine. He hoped he wasn’t imagining it, but her touch seemed more like a caress now than a curious exploration. She braced her free hand on his thigh and leaned closer, her warmth burning into his side. Never in his life did he think he’d get a hard-on from having his neck played with, but damned if he wasn’t fighting to keep his dick contained. Amaya wasn’t some easy lay he’d picked up at the bar, she was special and deserved to be treated right.

The memory of kissing her, of the way he’d caught her checking him out when she thought he wasn’t looking, did not help suppress the need to slide into her body.

“Your neck is so thick with muscle. You really are massive.”

“Have to be to survive the hits I took.”

“Good point.” She pressed too hard around the injury and the nerves spasmed, making him flinch. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Just feeling someone touch my scar is weird. The nerves are still messed up.”

“Yeah, I know how that is.”

Turning around, he found Amaya had moved away and now stood looking out the window, her shoulders stiff while she wrapped her arms around herself.

“Amaya? Are you okay?”

“Yes, just bad memories.”

“Come here.”

“Look, Paul, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Her refusal to share her problems with him was beginning to irritate him, but he knew better than to push her. “Well, if you don’t want a foot rub as payment for working on my neck...”

If there was one thing he’d learned about women, it was that the majority of them loved a good foot massage.

Sure enough, his offer got Amaya’s attention. “You want to rub my feet?”

“Sure, unless they’re stinky or you have some kind of fungus that I need to be aware of.”

She giggled and the tension fell away from her like rain sliding off a tin roof. “No, no fungus.”

“Weird toenails?”

“I get regular pedicures so they’re in good shape.”

“Then come here.”

She made her way back to his side then perched on the couch next to him.

“Lay back, get comfortable.”

“Really, you don’t have to do this.”

Despite her protests she arranged one of the brown and blue throw pillows behind her head and leaned back, placing her bare feet into his lap.

Looking down at her toes, he admired the sparkly pink nail polish, and the way she had a little daisy painted on both her big toes. “Cute.”

She wiggled her toes at him. “When you do yoga as much as I do, you spend a lot of time looking at your feet.”

He began to work on her, loving the way she relaxed with a huge sigh. “Maybe that’s why I never got into yoga. I’ve got big hairy Barney Rubble feet.”

“At least you cut your toenails. There’s a guy at my studio who, I swear, has toenails as long and yellow as Fritos corn chips.”

He paused, his thumb digging into her heel as he mock-gagged. “Nasty.”

Keeping their conversation light, he worked on one foot then the other, watching her enjoy his touch. Slowly their conversation died down. By the time he was halfway through her second foot, she’d fallen asleep. In the dim lighting, he allowed himself the luxury of staring at her in a way that would no doubt creep her out if she was awake. Never before had he experienced such...intense feelings for a woman as quickly as he did with Amaya. It wasn’t just because of her physical beauty, but something more intangible. A feeling that both Amaya and Peyton belonged to him somehow.

He slowly stroked the smooth, tanned skin of her calf, keeping his touch light in order to not disturb her sleep. Still wearing the shorts that had driven him to distraction today, she had the body of an athlete and he admired the smooth muscle tone of her legs. Even in her sleep she seemed to somehow glow to him, to put off this light that drew him, that only he could see. His dad had always talked about knowing how his mom was ‘the one’ as soon as he met her, and Caleb had said the same thing about his wife, but Paul had always thought they were exaggerating.

While he’d loved his ex, he’d never felt the love at first sight shit his dad and brother claimed to have experienced. With Amaya, it was different. She was different. If he was being honest with himself, he was a little leery of how much he cared about her already. Part of him, the rational part, thought he should take a step back and evaluate the situation, while the primal part of his brain demanded he claim Amaya and Peyton as his.

The trill of a popular song came from the table. He glanced over at Amaya’s cell phone, then froze when he saw who was calling.

Kelly Arminatge.

There was only one Kelly Arminatge that he knew of—his mom’s best friend from college. The two women still talked regularly, but why the hell was Kelly calling Amaya? His gut clenched as he thought of one reason, and it wasn’t a good one. Though his mom and Kelly didn’t really talk about it with him, he’d attended the funeral for Kelly’s daughter when she’d been killed by her violent boyfriend. He knew about Kelly’s work with battered women.

The ringing stopped as the phone went to voicemail, but he continued to stare at the device as the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place in his head.

Shit, was Amaya running from an abusive ex? That would explain so much about her behavior, about how she reacted to things and all the mysterious half-answers she gave him. It wouldn’t be the first time Kelly had sent a woman who needed a safe place to hide in to Green Haven. In the past, his mom had been here to help them out. The sudden rush of adrenaline pumping through him had his mouth filling with a metallic taste, and he had to fight his rising aggression. The thought of anyone putting their hands on Peyton or Amaya had him seeing red.

Amaya shifted on the couch, and he realized he was squeezing her foot hard in his grasp. Right away, he released her and gently moved her feet off his lap so he could stand. His skin prickled as he stared down at the sleeping woman, trying to look for any visible signs of abuse. She didn’t have any noticeable bruises or scarring, but he knew better than anyone that emotional abuse was just as bad. Hell, his ex-wife had a tongue as sharp as a knife, and the shit she’d said to him over the years of their marriage had left scars on his soul.

He grabbed his phone from the table next to Amaya’s and, after covering her up with a throw from the couch, made his way out onto the deck.

A chill wind off the lake dried the sweat that coated his skin and he tried to shake off the panic inside of him that tried to take over his mind.

Staring out at the grass dunes illuminated by his back-porch lights, he called his mom and was glad when she answered the phone after only a few rings.

“Hi, honey,” she chirped.

“Hey, Mom.” Gripping the weathered railing, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Why is Kelly Armitage calling Amaya?”

“What?” His mom, one of the world’s worst liars, gave a brittle laugh. “I have no idea.”

“Mom, seriously? Stop lying.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Mom...”

“I—I...I can’t say.”

Rubbing his hand over his head, he managed to keep his voice calm as he said, “I need to know, is Amaya in danger?”

“Paul, I really can’t—”

“Listen to me,” he barked. “They’re living in my house. I need to know if there’s someone out there looking for them, someone that wants to hurt them. If anybody comes after them I need to be able to keep them safe. If I think everything is fine, and something happens to them that I could have prevented by being more cautious, I’ll never forgive myself.”

There were a few moments of silence before his mom said in a tired voice, “Honey, I would tell you if I could, but I can’t. All I can say is that Amaya and Peyton are much safer up in Green Haven right now than they would be in Key Largo. The police are handling it.”

“Does Dean know what’s going on?”

“Yes, but you need to leave it alone. It’s not your business.”

“The hell it isn’t!”

“Lower your voice this minute, young man.”

Chagrined, he turned around so he could watch Amaya sleep. “Sorry, Mom. It’s just...the idea of anyone hurting them—”

“I know, sweetheart, I really do, but the best thing you can do for Amaya and Peyton right now is to make them feel welcome. They’re safe in Michigan, but it can’t be easy for Amaya to just up and leave everything she knows behind. She needs you to be a source of happiness in her life right now, not another sort of stress, so don’t harass her about her situation. If she wants to talk about it with you, she will. But you need to give her space and time. I’ll tell you right now, if you back her into a corner, make her feel threatened, she will take off and we may never see her again.”

“Mom, I wouldn’t harass her. Jesus, give me a little credit.”

“Yes, you would. Not in a mean way, but once you get something set in your mind you can be a bit tenacious about it.”

“I won’t say anything as long as you promise me you’ll let me know if her situation changes.”

“I will,” his mom said in a soothing voice. “Now tell me how they’re doing.”

He went over their day together with his mom, but the entire time they talked, he kept his watchful gaze on Amaya sleeping peacefully in his house.