Ellie
After getting off the phone with Mom, it was a quiet afternoon. There was never anything good on TV on Sundays, and we’d gone through every single movie in our collection over the course of the week. We stuck to reading stories together instead. Isabella was getting better every day when it came to reading her simple little books, though there was more than once that I caught her making up the stories as she went along based on the pictures she saw on each page. I was more than happy to let her go at it. How much longer would I get to have her as a baby after all?
How much longer would I get with her? No. I couldn’t allow myself to so much as entertain the thought of losing her to Connor. It was an impossibility, plain and simple. She was my little girl, not his. He was only her biological father, part of her genetic makeup. She might have gotten his nose, the curve of his mouth, but did he know the songs she liked to sing during bath time? Did he know how to cut her sandwiches? Did he know her favorite food? Color? Movie? Book? Did he know she was afraid of the dark and needed a nightlight at all times? No. He’d never bothered to find out either. I couldn’t let him ruin her imagination, her spunk, her need to know things. He would never, ever have the patience to sit and answer her endless questions. He didn’t love her. He only wanted to make me suffer. I was so sure of it.
I leaned in, taking a whiff of my daughter’s freshly-washed hair. She smelled like Johnson’s baby shampoo, but something else, too. Something entirely her. I could never quite put my finger on it. I couldn’t get enough of whatever it was.
Naptime couldn’t have come soon enough. I loved my daughter, but an entire week with her had started taking its toll on me. I needed a little quiet time. Sandy had been kind enough to include two bottles of wine in my grocery delivery. I made it a point to ration them carefully, since I didn’t know when I would next be able to get my hands on any. Money would be tighter than ever after missing a week of work.
“I love you, sweetheart.” I smoothed the dark, baby-fine hair back from Isabella’s temple before kissing her forehead. She was so sweet, so loving, and so sleepy. She curled up in a ball, arms around her favorite teddy bear.
“I love you, Mama.” She closed her eyes, a resigned note in her voice. I realized just then that she hadn’t asked all day if she would go back to school in the morning. I wondered if she already knew. Had she heard me talking with Mom? Or did she sense it somewhere deep inside? I wouldn’t have put it past her to figure it out on her own.
My thoughts sent me straight to the kitchen for a glass of wine. I savored the first sip of the cold, crisp Chardonnay, then sighed when I realized how important that glass of wine had become. Who was I?
I walked to the living room, swirling the wine in the glass. I used to drink a lot of really nice, expensive wine when I was with Connor. Just another one of the little extravagances he’d assured me were only for my benefit. The wine had become a crutch after a while, one which I’d had to monitor carefully from that point forward. That was something he’d never picked up on, the drinking. The eating, yes, and he’d bothered me incessantly over it. But not the drinking. I would still have a glass of wine with dinner, especially if we went out—something which became less and less likely over time. Otherwise, I’d cut out the glasses I used to drink alone, while he was on a business trip or golf outing or anywhere else. The wine I would drink to dull the incessant aching of my heart.
My phone was off, as I tended to leave it when not in use. I decided to take a chance, letting the wine bolster my courage a bit. I squeezed my eyes shut as I turned it on, then held my breath as it started up and eventually showed me the number of missed messages. Only a half dozen since I’d gotten off the phone with Mom. I couldn’t help but check those which had come in before then. The same insanity as before. How could I do it to him, why didn’t I know how good I’d had it with him, I would pay, whatever. I couldn’t even care as much as I had. I was still on my guard, but I wouldn’t let him break me.
A sudden knock at the door was enough to send me into a paroxysm of panic. I froze, looking around the room for a weapon. I never had random visitors, and Mom would have told me when we chatted if she planned to visit. Besides, I’d told her to come over the following day.
There was nothing in my reach to use as a weapon. I didn’t even have any big knives in the kitchen. I wasn’t sure I wanted to get close enough to use a knife, anyway. A bat would have been perfect, but I didn’t have one of those either. I would have to buy one. If I could.
Another knock. I jumped a little that time, staring at the door. I thought my bladder might give way. If I stay very still, he won’t know I’m here. He’ll think I’m out. I thanked God that Isabella was in bed, quiet. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to breathe very slowly and quietly. He’ll go away. He’ll go away.
“Ellie? It’s Parker. From the diner.”
My eyes flew open. “Parker?” What the hell? How did he know my address?
“Yeah. It’s me. I’m glad you’re here. Can I come in, please?”
I didn’t know him from Adam. How was I supposed to trust him to come into my apartment? I didn’t even know for sure that it was him. That thought sent me scrambling off the couch, tiptoeing to the peephole.
There he was, just as I remembered him. Same stunning body, same dark hair flopping over a tanned forehead. Same dark eyes. Stubbly cheeks. He looked good enough to eat.
Down, girl. A half a glass of wine and your hormones rage out of control. It wasn’t the wine—at least, not entirely. It was the memory of our kiss, too. The best kiss of my entire life. A woman didn’t forget about a kiss like that. The promise of it. What would come after it, if only I would allow it to happen.
“You still there? Hello? I feel like a real asshole, standing here, talking to a door.”
I flipped the locks, then opened the door. “You might want to watch your language,” I hissed, waving him in.
“Oh, sorry. The kid around? I wasn’t thinking.”
I sighed as I closed the door, locking up again. “She’s not ‘the kid.’ She’s Isabella. And no, she’s napping, so please be quiet.” Once he was in the apartment with me, I didn’t know what to do. He was there. Really there. I couldn’t deny the little bit of relief I felt at the knowledge that I didn’t have to be alone. I was so tired of being alone, having to shoulder everything myself.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, wanting to get that little bit of information out of the way before we could talk about anything else. “How did you find out where I live? Let me guess. Sandy?”
“She fought tooth and nail against giving me your address, I swear to God. I finally convinced her. She cares about you.”
“Yes, I know she does. I’m lucky to have her in my life. Okay, so she gave you the address. Why did you want it in the first place? Did I not give you correct change?” Then I remembered the more-than-generous tip waiting for me at the club’s table, and some of the arrogance melted away. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“No, it’s okay. I get it. I’d wonder why I was here, too.” He pointed to the couch. “Can I sit?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure. Make yourself comfortable.” Why the hell not? I’d evidently lost all control of the situation, so why not let him do whatever he wanted?
He looked around. “This is…small.”
I snickered. It looked even smaller with him in it, since he was so big. I wondered if his body would even fit on the sofa if he laid down on it. He had to be six and a half feet tall, maybe a little less. And all of him was muscle. My heart got a little fluttery when I looked at him. What would he want with me?
“Yeah,” I said, bringing myself back to the topic at hand. “It’s all I can afford right now. You know how it is. Times are tough. Ex is an asshole. I have no money. And so on.” I still stood, unsure what to do. Should I sit? Between the two of us, there wouldn’t be much room left. I’d have to sit fairly close to him, and he’d spread himself out to the point where we’d make contact whether I wanted us to or not. Standing was safer, I decided.
“You still haven’t told me why you’re here,” I reminded him. “I would like to know. Why did you look for me at the diner? What is it that you wanted?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I had to make sure you were okay.”
Something lit up inside me. A little spark which grew into a tiny flame. It burned in the darkness of my heart, where so many things had died over time. The hope that there were still nice, genuine men in the world being foremost among those dead beliefs. I didn’t want to fool myself into thinking he was nice, but the hope was there. I hoped he meant it.
“But Sandy could have told you that. Right?”
“I’m the type of person who likes to find out for himself. I like to see with my own eyes.” He looked me up and down, and I cursed myself for the ratty workout pants and tank top I wore. Not only did I look like a slob, but a half-dressed slob. I knew the outline of my breasts was clear through the thin cotton material, and a blush colored my skin. It didn’t help that he gave me that sexy smirk when he read my mind, as he could clearly do.
“Now you’ve seen me. You know everything is okay here. Why don’t you leave now? My daughter is taking a nap, but she’s bound to wake up soon. I don’t want you…confusing her.”
“Confusing her?” He shrugged. “What’s so confusing about me?”
“The fact of you, for one. I don’t have…men here.” I blushed again. Would he ever not have that effect on me? I told myself I wouldn’t know him long enough to find out, so it didn’t matter.
“So you tell her I’m a friend of yours.”
I smirked. “I don’t like lying to my daughter.”
He smirked in return. “So what do you tell her about her father? You tell her he’s a good guy, right? How is that not a lie?”
My skin went hot again, but this time it was out of anger. “Don’t you dare presume to tell me how to talk to my daughter. What I tell her is my business, not yours. Now I would appreciate it if you would leave my home. Please.”
He didn’t budge.
I sighed in exasperation. “What do I have to do to get rid of you?”
“Oh, you’re not getting rid of me. Not until I know why you didn’t go to work all week.”
I opened my mouth to reply, planning to give him an excuse, when my phone buzzed. Crap! I’d left it on the end table, right next to Parker’s arm. “I wasn’t feeling well, and then Isabella wasn’t feeling well. Somebody had to stay here with her.”
He nodded. I noticed how he didn’t seem to care about the phone, which was a relief. “Who watches her when you work those super late shifts at the diner? They couldn’t have stayed with her?”
“I can’t ask my mother to spend all day with a sick child,” I explained. “She’s older now. It’s too much for her to deal with. And why the heck am I justifying myself to you? It’s none of your business!”
He grinned. “I don’t know, but I know you’re full of shit. You would do anything for that kid. You would find a way, just to be sure you could make money that day. No, I don’t believe you. You’re holding something back.”
“What difference does it make? Oh my God, you’re driving me crazy. I’ve never felt like I was literally speaking to a brick wall before.” I would have thrown my glass of wine in his face if I hadn’t fretted over wasting it. Instead, I finished the glass.
“Wine? This early in the day?”
“Again, none of your business. If it bothers you so much, you’re more than welcome to leave.”
“No, no,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve never spent all week with a three-year-old before. I’m sure I would have been hitting the hard stuff days ago, like before breakfast.”
That made me laugh. I sat on the edge of the sofa, as far away from him as I could get. If he felt offended, he didn’t show it. His face remained bland, impassive.
“So, like I said. Why don’t you try telling me the truth. What’s happening?”
My phone buzzed again. I held my breath, hoping he wouldn’t notice it that time either.
“Do you wanna take care of this?” he asked, picking up the phone to hand it to me. He must have seen the name on the ID before he did, however, not to mention a snippet of the text which showed up on the home screen. He sat up, all pretense of joking or teasing me ending. “What is this?” he asked, looking at me, then back at the phone.
“That’s…the reason why I’ve been home all week.” Something about admitting the truth to him felt even better than it had when I told my Mom. There was something different about Parker, something that made me trust him even though I didn’t know the first thing about him aside from his club’s name and the fact that he was the best kisser I’d ever kissed. A burden left my heart. I felt lighter than I had in days.
“Because of this? He’s been harassing you all week?”
No point in lying. I nodded. “It started that day, or rather, the following day. After the diner. The following morning was when it started. He’s been changing numbers, so blocking is no good. At least he stopped leaving voicemails. That was the worst. The things he said…” I shivered.
“You stayed home with your kid rather than leave?”
“I couldn’t leave her,” I explained, shrugging. “He wants her, and he’ll stop at nothing. I can’t send her to preschool, or else he might take her while she’s there. I don’t want to leave her here either. Without me. So I’ve been staying with her. I’m the only person I trust to keep her safe.”
Parker nodded thoughtfully. “You’re gonna have to add another person to that list,” he said.
“Who?”
“Me. Who else do you think?”
“You? Oh, no. I mean, no offense, but no.” I couldn’t help laughing at the thought of the big, bad biker hanging out with my daughter. Granted, she would have him wrapped around her finger in no time, but it still didn’t present the best example to her.
“It’s not just her I wanna protect, Ellie. It’s you, too. I wanna stay here, on the couch, to make sure you’re safe.”
“You’re serious.”
“Dead serious.” His face told me the same thing. He meant it. He intended to spend whatever amount of time it took sleeping on my sofa, just to be sure I was safe.
I didn’t know what to say. On the one hand, I was terribly flattered…and more than a little bit turned-on. A sexy man, sleeping just feet away from me? Yes, please. Still, it was totally uncalled for and beyond strange. The three of us in a tiny apartment? Not the best idea.
“I don’t think it’s going to work,” I said, shrugging. “I’m sorry, I just don’t. This place is too small. You could never be comfortable. I don’t love the idea of my daughter’s exposure to…club members.”
“She had exposure to her father,” he pointed out nastily.
“Yeah, which is why I left.” I glared at him, daring him to come back at me with anything else. I was about sick to death of his attitude, his arrogance, the cocky way he had of getting the last word.
He managed to stay silent.
Then he sighed, rubbing his large hands together, then rubbing them over his jeans. “You wanna know why it’s important for me to stay here? To protect you?”
“Very much.” I held my breath. He wasn’t going to say he was in love with me or anything crazy like that…was he? Or maybe he was on the run from the law.
“I couldn’t save my fiancée,” he murmured.
I had to strain my ears to hear him. When I realized what he’d said, my heart sank. “What happened to her?” I asked softly.
“She died. A gun fight. I couldn’t save her. She was innocent. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I should have made sure she stayed far away from me. I was selfish to keep her in my world, where she didn’t belong. She was good. A doctor. She helped people. What did I ever do to help people?” He smiled bitterly, still looking down at the clasped hands in his lap. Then he looked at me, and the pain I saw in his face, especially in his eyes, nearly broke my heart. He looked a lot older all of a sudden. “I couldn’t protect her. I’ll protect you now. I have to do this. Don’t you get it?”
I understood what a big deal it was for him to admit that to me. I didn’t know a lot of men like him—or any, frankly—but I had the feeling they didn’t walk around talking about things like that all the time. But he’d shared it with me to prove a point. He had a reason for being there with me.
There was nothing I could do but say, “Okay. You can stay. I appreciate your help.”
We did need him. I knew that much. It was the feeling that I was about to get more than I’d bargained for which left me unsettled and a little excited.