Chapter 20
Sutton
I didn’t sleep last night.
Which is why, at approximately six forty-five, at the sound of soft footsteps climbing the stairs, I pop out of Nellie’s pink bed and stretch the kink from my back.
I just catch the tail of my baggy sweatshirt disappearing around the corner as I reach the base of the steps. The sound of the percolating coffee pot reaches my ears. Leaving Alice occupied for at least a few moments, I scroll through my phone and call my chief for an update before I go up there.
“Sutton,” he answers on the first ring.
“Fill me in.”
His sigh is long and loud. “I’m sorry to say there isn’t much. There were no signs of forced entry, and he didn’t stick around. Whatever this guy was doing, Ms. Thompson interrupted him, and he got out of Dodge.”
“We don’t know how long he was in there. He could have been doing anything. Tampering with her food. Planting cameras.”
“We did a sweep, but her place is so clean it was hard to tell if anything was disturbed. We might have better luck having her walk through.”
The stubble on my cheek prickles my palm. “I can make that work. We need to come by for some of her clothes.”
“She’s free to return home any time.” There’s a vein of suspicion in his tone. This guy is bright and has known me since I was green as the goddamn grass. He doesn’t miss much.
“She won’t be returning.”
He chuckles. “Does she know that?”
“Not yet.”
“Good luck with that, Stone. I’ll let you know if I hear anything else.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
The call disconnects as I head up the stairs. The smell of coffee lures me to the kitchen. I find Alice hovering over her phone in the corner, her back to the room. So absorbed in her morning routine, she hasn’t noticed me yet.
I take a moment to soak her in. She looks damn good in my hoodie.
It drops so low on her toned thighs I can’t tell if she’s still wearing those cut-off jean shorts or if there’s nothing beneath.
She ditched the blue boots when we got home last night.
Her feet are bare, toes still manicured in the color from the dance with Nellie.
She looks like she belongs here.
My gut tightens with the thought.
I wish she could belong here. I wish I was the kind of man who wasn’t scared to try again.
To give my daughter the one thing she’s been missing since she was barely a year old.
Last night was just a reminder of exactly why I keep my distance.
To think I could have lost her when she isn’t even mine to lose is already unbearable.
And if I was in love with her?
How do I risk that sort of agony? For me or my daughter?
She’s made an impact on our lives in such a short amount of time.
“Sutton! You scared me.” Alice covers her heart with a palm over her chest.
“Sorry,” I rasp, voice still gritty from the late night. “I heard you get up. Couldn’t sleep?”
“I did for a while, but this”—she circles her hand in front of her bruised face—“is more intense than it was last night.”
A bright purple bruise rings her left eye, and the bridge of her nose is swollen. Growing up with two brothers and the five Powell boys, I’ve had both of those injuries many times. I know her face has to ache.
“Let me get you some ibuprofen.” I move to the cabinet above the sink.
“It’s okay. I can stop by the convenience store on my way out of here.”
I narrow my eyes as I hold out the bottle. “You’re not leaving.”
She flicks her tongue over her cherry blossom lips, and I can’t help but watch the movement and the glistening trail left behind. “I can’t stay.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t live here.”
“You don’t know if it’s safe,” I argue.
“You don’t know if it isn’t not safe,” she stumbles over her words.
I run my hand over my hair and rest my hips against the counter at my back. “Give it a few days at least. We don’t even know if this guy is your guy. Hell, we don’t even know if it’s a guy at all.”
Alice tosses back some pills and chases them with a glass of water beside her. “I can’t just move in with you.”
“Why not?” I fire back. “You’re here from morning until dark most days as it is.”
“Not during the day. Not while Nellie is at school.”
The argument is weak at best. “That doesn’t make a difference.”
“I should stay with Whitney. She and Jack have room, and I could help with Soren during the day—”
“You came to me.” I stab my index finger into the center of my chest. In two strides, I cross the room and stop so close that our toes nearly touch. “You didn’t call Whitney or Jack or even 911. You ran in your cute, heeled boots to my fuckin’ doorstep in the middle of the night, Alice.”
“I know.”
I brace an arm on either side of her, caging her in. “That means something.”
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Even more reason you should be able to stay.”
“I can’t.”
“Why? If I didn’t make myself clear, I want you to stay.”
“You won’t,” she whispers, closing her eyes.
My chin jerks into my chest. “I just said—”
The sound of my alarm and the front door opening cuts off the rest of my sentence and forces me to straighten away from her. Nellie bounds into the foyer with my mom on her heels.
“Morning, Daddy! Grammy said we could get unicorn pancakes this morning. Do you want to come?” She skids to a stop in the kitchen. “Miss Alice, are you here for pancakes too?”
I glance between my kid and her nanny. “Alice needs somewhere to stay for a while, Buttercup.”
“Sutton,” Alice hisses my name, attempting to incinerate me with her glare.
Nellie’s eyes grow rounder than they did when she was talking about pancakes. “You’re going to live here? Does that mean we can finally have our sleepover? I’ve been waiting forever!”
A couple of weeks feels like forever when you’re eight.
I bite back a chuckle and busy myself pouring a cup of black coffee. Satisfaction settles in my gut.
“I think that’s a great idea, Nellie. I’d love to have a sleepover with you.”
“I’m going to start planning right now.” Nellie crashes into Alice’s waist, giving her a tight hug.
Alice slaps one hand on the counter for support. With the other, she cradles the back of Nellie’s head. I can’t help but notice the way her expression softens, and how careful she is with my little one.
Nellie tips her chin to smile at her new favorite person and gasps when she sees Alice’s face. “What happened to you?”
Alice’s mouth opens and closes, searching for the words and falling short.
“Alice had an accident, but she’s okay.”
Mom catches my eye from across the room, but I just shake my head. Not now. She can have the full rundown when my daughter isn’t in the room.
Nellie tenses her brow. “Did someone hurt her?” Her tone holds so much concern. Her voice much too little for the gravity of that question.
“No,” Alice answers.
“Yes,” I reply.
Alice shoots me a scowl.
I shrug. “I’m not going to lie.”
Nellie flutters the oversized sleeve covering Alice’s arm. “It’s okay, Miss Alice. My dad is really good at protecting people. He even got an award before. He’s going to catch them and put the bastard in jail.”
“Eleanor,” I admonish, fighting a lip twitch. Intentional or not, she relieves the gravity of the situation. “Language, young lady.”
“What? That’s what you said. You come home from work and tell Grammy that all the time.” She rolls her eyes.
“She’s not lying,” Mom adds.
I rub my palm over my chin and down my neck. I need a shave. “Why don’t you go wash up, and we can work out the details of your sleepover later. Alice hasn’t even had her coffee yet.”
“I have an idea. Why don’t I run out and get breakfast for all of us? That way you don’t need to get ready and rush out.”
“That sounds nice, Mrs. Stone.” Alice finally starts to prep a cup of coffee for herself.
“Please, that makes me sound so old. Call me Bea.”
“Thank you, Bea.”
“I’ll give you some time alone.” Mom zeros in on my sweatshirt covering Alice’s body, reading entirely too much into it. She passes her knowing look between us both before backing out the door.
“She thinks we slept together,” Alice hisses once we’re alone.
“She doesn’t.”
She does.
Inwardly, I groan at the image invoked. Of lazy mornings exploring one another, and Alice wearing my other hoodies just like this one.
Her words from last night at the bar, before everything went to shit, bounce around my skull.
My dick twitches in warning.
Don’t go there.