Chapter Six
Pope had spent years handling weapons, surveillance equipment and enough military tech to fill warehouses.
Yet somehow a seven-year-old handing him screws out of a coffee can made him more nervous than half the operations he’d run overseas.
“Do you need the little silver one or the pointy silver one?” Ben asked seriously from beside the ladder.
Pope looked down from where he was mounting the last camera beneath the eave. “Pointy.”
Ben dug through the can with intense concentration before holding one up triumphantly. “This?”
“Perfect.”
The kid grinned like he’d personally contributed to national security.
Pope took the screw from him carefully, trying not to think too hard about how natural this felt. Maybe it was his close connection with Rhae and Denver’s daughter Navy that put him more at ease around kids.
As he pondered that, he took in his surroundings from his perch on the ladder. The late evening air still carried a bite sharp enough to sting his fingers against the old metal siding, but the windows of the duplex glowed warm. Kitchen light spilled through the curtains.
After Ben begged to be Pope’s assistant, Summer agreed he could eat dinner when he came inside. The scent drifted out every time she opened the door to check on them.
“What’s for supper, buddy?” he asked as he fixed the camera in place.
“Beanie-weenies!” The child sounded so enthusiastic about a meal that a lot of kids these days would turn their noses up at. Summer was raising a great kid, and he wondered if she heard it enough.
Ben hovered close as Pope finished tightening the mount. “Mom says cameras can see everything.”
“Not everything.”
Which was why he would be spending the night outside the house, keeping watch.
“What about aliens?”
Pope glanced down. “They especially see aliens.”
Ben gasped, and Pope fought back a smile as he climbed down the ladder.
The kid followed him to the front porch. Pope checked the camera feed on his phone. Back yard angle looked good. Front porch covered. Side yard too. Enough visibility on the driveway where Summer’s little car—with its brand-new tires—was parked.
Nobody was going to get close to the house without him seeing it.
“Can I see?” Ben asked.
“Sure.” He held out the phone low enough for Ben and flipped through all the angles. The kid gave him an approving nod.
“Can I hold the flashlight again?”
“You don’t think I’m strong enough to carry my own gear?”
“Nope!”
Pope issued a quiet huff of amusement through his nose.
Summer stepped out onto the porch, and every calm thought in his head scattered like a unit taking incoming fire.
Hell. She wore jeans and a long-sleeved top now, her hair loose around her shoulders, and he felt every bit as off-balance as he had the first night she walked into his orbit at the Stockyard.
Ben darted toward her with both hands wrapped around the flashlight. “We got the spy cameras working!”
“Did you?” Amusement rang in her voice, and Pope couldn’t stop himself from stealing a look at her face to see it tinting her beautiful features.
“Yep. I helped.” Ben pointed the light right at Pope, blinding him.
Summer laughed and set a hand on the light, lowering it from his eyes. “Watch where you’re shining that, buddy.”
He blinked to clear the spots from his eyes but his mind worked over what she’d just called her son. Buddy. He’d called Ben that out of instinct, but now he wondered if he’d ever heard her say it.
The tender, motherly smile she gave her son vanished when she lifted her gaze to Pope. The look on her face wasn’t cold.
It was pained.
“Why don’t you go inside and eat your dinner? Your plate is on the table.”
He ran inside, yelling about aliens and surveillance footage, and Summer crossed the porch to Pope.
The closer she got, the harder his heart slammed against his ribs. After months apart, his body still reacted the same way.
She stopped close enough that he could smell her shampoo. Then she leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Please don’t do this.”
Pope went still.
“Don’t let him get attached to you.”
The words slammed even harder than his heart. For a beat, he just stared at her as understanding washed over him. She wasn’t being cruel by keeping her son away from him.
She wasn’t protecting herself either.
She was protecting Ben.
He sent a look over her head toward the house where the boy’s voice carried faintly through the screen door. Then his gaze landed on her again.
“I respect that.”
He got it—some men disappointed women they claimed to love, and fathers let down their kids. Summer carried the damage from both.
And right now, Pope wasn’t stable enough or worthy of her or anyone else.
Not yet.
Summer searched his face like she expected an argument. When he didn’t give her one, her shoulders loosened, while guilt and relief tangled in the depths of her eyes.
That hurt too.
“I’ve got a few more things to do,” he muttered even though he didn’t. He turned for the porch steps and listened to the screen door thump shut behind him, followed by the wooden front door that kept out the cold, leaving him alone.
He climbed in his truck parked in front of the duplex for his first watch.
The night grew cold fast as the sun slipped behind the mountains for the night. Wyoming springs liked to pretend winter was leaving but winter told it where to go every night, bringing a chill that kept their furnaces running.
He settled behind the wheel, his jacket zipped to the neck and the camera feed open on his phone. The windows of the duplex glowed from Summer’s side, and Granny’s too.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought about Granny’s protectiveness, but his smile dimmed at the thought of Summer needing protection at all.
He stared at the windows until the yellow light smeared in his vision, but no amount of racking his brain gave him answers about who was behind the gifts she’d received.
He thought of her coworkers at the Stockyard—cooks, waitresses and bartenders.
Some single and a few with families. The bartender was an older lady, one of those lifers who kept the tips coming from years of practice talking to strangers who sat at her bar.
She might have seen Summer’s struggle and stepped in to help but didn’t want Summer to feel she needed to repay her kindness.
The tire…now that was different.
That was a fucking threat.
His back started to ache and he shifted to get more comfortable, hunching into his coat.
He turned the heater on for a few minutes just to take the edge off before turning it off again. Idling for long would only waste gas. Besides, getting too warm would make him sleepy, which he had no intention of doing.
He scanned the neighborhood as the hours crawled by in silence.
A rabbit hopped beneath one of the bushes near the neighboring house before disappearing into the darkness.
A few minutes later—or maybe it was longer—a cat slunk along the edge of a fence like it owned the place.
One by one, lights around the street blinked off as people settled into bed.
A television flickered blue behind someone’s curtains across the street. A truck drove past slow, and he watched it before it turned into a driveway at the end of the street. The garage door opened, and the truck drove in.
The lack of any suspicious activity should have relaxed him but it didn’t.
One curtain inside Summer’s house flicked aside briefly before swinging shut again. From the times he’d been inside the house, he guessed it was Ben’s room.
He leaned back, shifting his shoulders to ease the tension pulling between them, watching the house as his thoughts drifted where he didn’t want them going.
He knew almost nothing about the kid except his name was Ben and he was seven years old. He spent some of his school breaks with his grandparents, which helped take pressure off Summer and gave her small stretches where she wasn’t carrying single motherhood completely alone.
Pope didn’t know where Ben’s father was. Didn’t know if the man vanished, cheated, died or just turned out to be another disappointment.
He never asked.
Most nights with Summer hadn’t involved much talking once clothes started coming off.
And now he wished to hell he’d taken time to know her better. If he had, maybe things would be different.
Maybe she’d understand he actually cared. Because he did. Way more than he should.
So fucking much.
Suddenly, a sliver of light escaped through a crack in the front door. His body reacted before his brain caught up. He shoved the truck door open and stepped out, sweeping the area for danger first before his gaze landed on Summer crossing the porch.
His gut cramped as worst-case scenarios jumped into his head—Summer receiving threatening texts, a broken window he missed when he checked out the house, a strange noise.
But she only pulled her hoodie tighter around herself and walked toward him in pajama pants and slippers he knew were fake suede.
She deserved real suede, dammit.
He met her in the middle of the sidewalk. “What’s wrong?” His voice was gritty.
She shoved her hands into the hoodie pocket. “Ben woke up a little bit ago.”
His muscles locked one by one until he felt his back go ramrod straight.
She searched his face and hurried to say, “He’s fine. He just…saw your truck outside.”
When he exhaled, his breath plumed out on the cold air.
“He was worried about you sleeping out here.”
Her words sent a lump into his throat.
Her face was tipped up to his, and damn if the smell of her skin didn’t still linger in his head even though it’d been months.
Exhaustion softened her features. “Come inside, Vander.”
He blinked once. “Summer—”
“It’s too cold to stay out here overnight.”
“I’m fine.”
“It’s freezing out here.” As if the chill finally wiped away the heat lingering from her own warm covers, she shivered.
He almost argued again, but she stepped closer and lowered her voice.
“You can watch the cameras from the app, right?”
“Yeah.”