Friend or foe?

Stacey Saunders peered out the window of her two-story, Edmonton townhouse. A big black SUV had pulled up two minutes ago but so far no one had gotten out. Fear ratcheted up her spine as she held her sleeping newborn baby, Thea, tight against her chest.

Ever since she’d found out that her late husband had been in bed with a crime family and owed them money, she’d been on high alert. It didn’t matter that Ted was dead, he owed them money, and the Petralia family always got paid.

Had they finally come to make good on their threat? Or was this the bodyguard her husband’s other wife had arranged for her?

Yes, her husband’s other wife.

Not ex-wife. Other wife.

Yes, in addition to being a new mother of two, a widow and now the target of a crime family, Stacey had recently discovered that Ted had been married to two women at the same time. She was a sister-wife without her knowledge and against her will. Because never in a million years would Stacey have agreed to share a man with someone.

No wonder Ted had been gone two weeks a month. Here Stacey thought he was busy working as a safety inspector for hospitals, while lo and behold he was actually working for the Petralia crime family based out of Victoria and helping traffic drugs, launder money and God only knows what else. Then after a long day of crime, he’d go home to his first wife and lie to her face about where he’d been all day.

But thankfully, as shitty a husband as Ted turned out to be, his choice in women was above par, and Freya, wife number one, was a wonderful human being. She’d flown out just a few weeks ago to meet Stacey and Connor, and they’d hit it off immediately. Then when Stacey went into labor with Thea, Freya had flown back to Edmonton to be with Stacey for the birth as she had no one.

She shook her head and kissed the top of Thea’s head, marvelling at the downy softness of her peach fuzz hair. Without Ted she wouldn’t have her children. Without Ted she never would have met Freya. Without Ted she wouldn’t be caught up in this mess with a crime family and waiting for either an enforcer or a bodyguard to step out of that vehicle parked on her curb.

Yeah, Ted was a treasure.

She was happy to have children. Happy to know Freya. But also happy he was gone.

“Mama?”

Stacey jumped nearly a foot in the air, jostling Thea and making the baby squawk out in protest. She spun around, releasing the drapes to find her son, Connor, staring at her with the kind of wide-eyed curiosity only toddlers could have.

“Honey, don’t sneak up on me like that.” She ran her hand over the back of his head and pulled him close against her thigh.

He blinked up at her with those big baby blues of his. “I’m hungry.”

Stacey swallowed, followed by a nod. “Where’s Daniella?”

He shrugged.

Since Thea was born Daniella, the nanny, had been a lifesaver. Stacey wasn’t sure how’d she be able to handle both kids, particularly the colicky Thea, without Daniella’s help. Connor hadn’t been nearly as challenging, and at that time she had the on-off help of her husband. At least when he was in town he was helpful.

But two kids was a whole new ball game, and she was grateful for Daniella. The woman was also a fantastic cook, which was great considering how hungry Stacey constantly felt now that she was nursing again.

“I’m hungry,” Connor said again, this time with more of a whine to his tone. Stacey shut her eyes and counted to five in her head. He was three. He was three. He was three. Three-year-olds whined. He was being normal. Normal, but irritating. And she was sleep deprived. She couldn’t forget that.

Opening her eyes, she ruffled his head with her hand and smiled down at her precocious son. “All right, let’s find you something to eat. Would you like a PB and J sandwich?”

He nodded.

Thank goodness he wasn’t a picky eater.

She crossed her fingers his love of food would stick around and that eventually Thea would love food too. Ted had been a picky eater and Stacey was terrified the kids would be too.

No red sauce. No legumes. No pepper. No garlic. No onion. No fruit with seeds.

She shook her head and encouraged Connor to make his way downstairs.

Fucking Ted.

Now that he was gone they could eat normal food again. When he wasn’t home she ate spaghetti and stir-fries, beans and fruit. A real melee of flavors and dishes. When he was home they ate meat, potatoes and broccoli in various non-red sauces. The only thing she couldn’t eat was strawberries and that was because of a deathly allergy. And of course, that was the only fruit Ted did like.

Fucking Ted.

They were halfway down the stairs when the undeniable sound of a truck door slamming outside made her body stiffen.

She wanted to run back upstairs and watch the person approach. Though if it was a member of the Petralia family what could she do? Lock the doors and cross her fingers?

They made it to the bottom of the stairs and Stacey’s heart was in her throat. She clutched a still snoozing Thea tighter against her as she and Connor entered the kitchen. Daniella was standing over the stove stirring a pot which appeared to have soup in it.

“I know it’s the summer,” she said with a smile, grabbing the salt shaker off the back of the stove and adding a pinch to the dish, “but it just seemed like a soup day. The clouds were low and gray this morning, felt like rain.”

Stacey forced a smile.

“PB and J, please,” Connor said, sidling up to the kitchen table.

Daniella nodded at Connor before letting her dark brown eyes drift back to Stacey. The woman was old enough to be Stacey’s mother and had wisdom and patience in spades. Stacey was so thankful for her. Concerned colored Daniella’s face, her lips dipping down into a pensive frown. “Everything all right, dear?”

Stacey was about to open her mouth when the door bell chimed.

Did thugs ring the bell?

She’d been waiting for a heavy fist to pound, followed by a shout to “open the door, or else.”

“I’ll get it!” Connor cheered, leaping up from the table and beelining it for the door.

“NO!” Stacey hollered, jostling Thea as she rushed after Connor toward the door. Thea let out another wail, squirmed and then started to cry.

Crap.

Connor’s little fist was around the door latch just as Stacey got there. Her hand fell on his and she looked down at her son. Confusion stole across his features with a wrinkled nose and cocked eyebrow. Oh, how he looked like his father at that moment.

“Mama, I want to open it,” Connor said, trying to bat her hand away.

Thea was now doing what Stacey called her “newborn lamb cry” and was bashing her face into Stacey’s chest and collarbone in search of sustenance.

“I’ll answer it,” Daniella offered, wandering in, wiping her hands on her frilly white apron. She must have brought that with her, Stacey certainly didn’t have anything that girly in the house.

“NO!” Stacey barked, making both Daniella and Connor jump. Thea was still screaming her head off. She passed the baby to Daniella. “I’ll get it. Please go feed her. I pumped last night, there should be a bottle warming in the sink.”

Eyeing her up suspiciously, Daniella accepted the furious infant and retreated to the other room.

“Go with her, honey,” Stacey said to Connor.

Connor stomped his foot. “I want to get the door.”

“You can have an extra episode of Paw Patrol after snack if you go see Daniella right now.”

His face lit up and without another word he was off to the kitchen singing that insidious Paw Patrol theme song.

Lifting up on her tiptoes, she peered through the peephole. All she saw was a big, thick chest in a black t-shirt. “Who is it?” she called through the door.

“Miss Saunders?” came a deep, gravelly voice.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“Name’s Chase Hart, Miss, I’m hear to protect you. Escort you and your family to Victoria where you’ll be safe.”

“Step back so I can see you in the peephole.” She wasn’t taking any chances. Sure thugs probably looked like average Joes most of the time, until you put brass knuckles on their fist and a sawed-off shot gun in the trunk of their car. But at one time in her life Stacey had considered herself a good judge of character.

Ted proved you wrong there.

He took a couple of steps back, but it wasn’t enough. Now all she saw was a thick neck with corded muscle and broad shoulders that lead to tree truck biceps.

“Further back,” she ordered.

His broad chest expanded on what she could only assume was a huff of impatience before he took another step back. She let her gaze travel up from his neck to a chiseled jaw, strong chin, slightly crooked nose and directly into blazing green eyes. They stared straight ahead at her as if he could see past the door and right into her soul. He was also bald, but he owned it. Pulled it off. If anything, it just made him seem all the tougher. He was too cool, too tough, too sexy for hair.

Did she just call him sexy?

Yes, yes she had.

Thick bushy eyebrow ascended slightly up his forehead and his plump lips pursed in irritation. “Seen what you need to see?”

“How do I know you are who you say you are?” she asked.

“Call Freya. She knows what I look like,” he said blandly, appearing almost bored.

Quickly, Stacy grabbed her phone out of the back pocket of her shorts and dialed Freya.

“Hey!” Freya answered on the second ring.

“Hey. What does Chase look like? You know, the guy coming to help us move to Victoria.”

“Big. Bald. Beefy. Green eyes.”

Stacey peered back out through the peephole again. “Okay. But a Petralia thug would probably be big bald and beefy too, no?”

Freya chuckled on the other end. “Hold on.” Stacey heard murmuring in the background for a moment or two before Freya came back on. “Ask him what his baby brother’s middle name is.”

“Okay. What’s your baby brother’s middle name?” she called out through the door.

His lip twitched, but he didn’t manage a smile. “Leppard.”

“Leppard,” she said to Freya.

“That’s right. It’s him. Let him in and I’ll see you in a few days, okay?”

Stacey nodded, her hand on the door knob. “Fine.”

“It’s going to be okay, Stace. Once we have you and the kids here, we’ll all be able to help you. Safety in numbers, right?”

“Right.”

“I gotta go. I’m in the middle of teaching a class.”

“Shit, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I told you to call me no matter what or when, and I meant it. It’s going to be okay.”

“Okay, bye.” Stacey unclenched her jaw and massaged it with her finger. She hadn’t even realized she’d been grinding her molars until a dull ache wormed its way through her neck and temples.

“Can I come in?” Chase asked again.

She unlocked the door and opened it. He was even bigger than he seemed through the peephole. Taller too. Sexier too.

His eyes softened as he slowly raked her body from tip to toe. She fought the urge to squirm under his intense scrutiny. She was only a few weeks postpartum and was certain it was going to be a lot tougher to lose the baby belly this time around. When he finally met her gaze one corner of his mouth lifted up and he took a step forward, his arm outstretched. “Miss Saunders, I’m Chase Hart of Harty Boys Security. I’m hear to keep you safe and escort you and your children to Victoria.”

Stacey squinted at him before extending her hand forward. “You said that already.”

His lip twitched again, but no smile. “Yes, well, now there’s no door between us and I figured I should say it again.”

They clasped hands and shook. His hand was huge in comparison to hers, and warm, but not sweaty. Ted had always had sweaty hands. “Why were you sitting in your SUV out in front of my building for so long?”

“I was on a call.”

Oh.

His head cocked to the side and he extended his neck out as if trying to see around the corner into her home. “Can I come in please, ma’am?”

“Mama!”

Connor came barreling down the hallway toward the door, the corners of his mouth caked in peanut butter and raspberry jam. Stacey caught her wild child and hoisted him up onto her hip before taking a step back and allowing the bigger than life man with incredible green eyes to step over her threshold and into her home. Into her life.