Chris reclined the driver’s seat back a few more inches. He’d been sitting in his truck for almost three hours. Bree’s car had been in the drive when he arrived, so he’d parked a few houses down to avoid her spotting his truck. Denise had walked her to the door thirty minutes ago and a few lights had gone off.

Glancing down at this phone, he dimmed the brightness and opened his ebook app. Rereading Pet Sematary would keep him awake, even if it made him damn glad he didn’t own a cat.

The phone rang, Denise’s name appearing on the screen. “Hey.”

“Hey.” She didn’t say anything else.

“Everything okay?” He looked up the street toward her house.

“I’m not sure.”

He sat up straight and scanned around the house for anything unusual. “What do you mean?”

“I think I should call the cops.”

He couldn’t see anything from where he was parked. Was something going on at the back of the house? He thumbed the control to raise the back of his seat. “What’s going on?”

“I think there’s a creeper parked down the street.”

He paused with his hand on the ignition button. “A what?”

“You know…a creeper. Stalker. Weirdo.”

He relaxed back into his seat. “Why does it have to be a weirdo?” Guaranteed she’d spotted him and was fucking with him.

“Well, he keeps shifting around in his seat like he’s rubbing one out.”

“I’m—” A knock on the passenger-side window interrupted him. Sighing, he ended the call and unlocked the doors.

Denise climbed inside and pulled the door shut. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Not rubbing one out.”

“So I can see.” She glanced down at his lap.

Was that disappointment he heard? His dick stirred to life, taking a sudden interest in the idea of her watching him stroke himself. He had a hard time, no pun intended, reconciling her flirtiness with the silent treatment he’d received the last couple of weeks.

“When did you spot me?”

“The second or third time you drove by looking for a spot to park.” She leaned against the door and angled her body toward him. “So is this sanctioned surveillance or are you here on your own time?”

“Not sanctioned. Yet,” he emphasized. The paperwork was in, but the higher-ups didn’t see the need to put someone on her and the kids twenty-four, seven at the moment.

She nodded. “That’s what I figured. So what’s the goal? Protection or catch Eddie and any of his accomplices?”

“Protection.” Not one fucking thing was going to happen to her or her kids. His gut still churned thinking about what could have happened at the rescue today. There was no telling what Eddie was capable of and he hated not being able to help Denise. No, she didn’t exactly need it, but that didn’t matter to him. Call him a Neanderthal, but he wanted to make sure she was safe. Catching Eddie was secondary.

“Why don’t you pull into the drive then? You can provide protection from inside just as well as outside.”

His little brain heard protection and inside and was all for the idea. His big brain knew he’d be as useful as kitten mittens if he was anywhere near Denise and a bed.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea.” He shifted his arm, trying to surreptitiously cover his growing erection.

Her gaze dropped to his lap again. “If you stay, you’ll be staying on the couch. And you’ll be leaving before I wake up the kids for school. I don’t want them getting the wrong idea or asking any uncomfortable questions.”

What was the wrong idea?

“Besides, I need help packing. All Bree did was drink my wine and talk me into letting her buy a huge-ass play set for the kids.”

She pointed to her house and he begrudgingly started his truck. Checking the side mirror, he pulled into the road then her short drive.

Shutting off the engine, he set the parking brake. “You don’t want them to have a play set?”

“It’s not that. The one she wants to get is a couple grand and will take up half the yard. Plus, I know she’s taking a lot less in rent than what she can get for the house.”

She hopped down from the truck and eased the door shut so it didn’t slam. He did the same and rounded the front end.

“Is she getting them a play set?” Stealing the opportunity touch her, he rested his palm on the small of her back as she led the way to the door. Walking behind her, he couldn’t help but appreciate the way her leggings hugged her hips and showed off her legs.

“I told her she could get it for them as a combined birthday and Christmas present.” She pushed through the door and kicked her shoes off onto the small stand behind it. She waited for him to clear the threshold, then closed the door and threw the deadbolt.

He added his shoes to the pile and followed her toward the kitchen, sitting on the stool he’d occupied during the wake. The house seemed much larger now that there weren’t a few dozen people crammed into it.

“You want something to drink?” she asked.

“Water’s fine. How close are their birthdays?”

She opened the fridge she’d just closed and pulled out two beers, closing the door with her hip. “I’m going to need more than water if we’re going to talk about this.”

“Okay…” He wasn’t sure what this was or why he was going to need a beer to hear it.

Her gaze moved behind him, to where he knew the kids’ bedroom was. “They asleep?”

“Yeah.” She twisted off the top and took a pull from the bottle, her soft lips pursing around the opening. The label caught his eye. It was the same microbrew he’d brought to her house the first time they’d had sex and he pressed his lips together to keep from smiling.

Setting the bottle on the counter, she took a deep breath. “They’re eleven months apart. Their birthdays are March and February.”

“You called them Irish twins.”

She nodded. “Eddie raped Sarah three weeks after she’d given birth to Kaden. She found out she was pregnant at her six-week postpartum checkup. He started beating her in the car on the way home, blaming her for another mouth to feed. When he stopped for gas, the guy on the other side of the pump saw Sarah and asked if she needed help and offered to call the police.” She finally looked up from the counter. “Eddie beat him to death.”

“Fuck.” The Good Samaritan. He twisted off the cap of his beer and took a long swallow.

“He was twenty-eight, he was engaged, and he was on his way to get fitted for his tux for his wedding.”

Taking another swallow, he tried not to gag as it trickled past the knot in his throat.

“I was in Iraq when it happened. Sarah was hospitalized for a week and I went home on emergency leave.”

All the pieces fell into place. “That’s when that boy—Ali—died.”

Her eyelashes lowered, hiding her eyes and nodded.

“Denise.” He couldn’t form any words. What did he even begin to say to something like that?

“To the FBI, Eddie’s just another criminal. A small cog in a bigger piece of machinery you’re trying to stop.” She looked back at him, her eyes ablaze with fury and unshed tears. “But to me? He’s the piece of shit that almost took my family from me and is trying to again. I’d as soon shoot him as look at him, but I can’t because it’s not just me I have to worry about anymore.”

Her hands fisted on the counter. “I promised myself I would never be helpless again. That I would never be in a position where a child’s life was threatened. So tell me what the fuck I’m supposed to do now.”

He covered her fists with his hands and used his thumbs to rub the meaty pad of her palm until her hands relaxed. “You trust me to help you. You trust me to do the right thing for you and Kimber and Kaden.”

He held her gaze, silently pleading with her to take the help he was offering. He wasn’t lying. He would do the right thing to protect her, even if the right thing didn’t fall in line with the FBI’s agenda.

She nodded tightly and a wave of relief washed over him. He’d never do anything to make her regret her decision. To make her regret giving him a second chance.