Chapter Eight
“But what about the camels that lost their humps?” Maggie asked that night, her eyes wide. “Aren’t they sad?”
“Some camels only have one hump. They haven’t lost anything. They’re just different.”
Ashley bit back a smile. After ten minutes of grilling by her daughter, Jeff was still the picture of patience. He put down his fork and leaned toward her daughter.
“Remember the elephants you liked so much? There are two kinds of those, African and Asian elephants. It’s the same with camels. Some have one hump and some have two.”
They were sitting around the kitchen table at dinner. Ashley tried to ignore how good Jeff looked and the way the meal made her able to think of them as a family. They weren’t a family. They barely knew each other. The fact that Jeff had insisted they all eat together was just him being nice.
She frowned. “Nice” didn’t exactly describe his actions. Now that she thought about it, why did he want to eat with them? Not that she was complaining. Mealtimes were always interesting when he was around.
“Why are camels different?” her daughter asked.
Jeff hesitated, as if forming an answer. Ashley decided he might need a little help. Four-year-olds were nothing if not persistent.
“It’s like dogs,” she told Maggie. “There are many different kinds of dogs. Some are big, some are small. But they’re all still dogs. There are two different kinds of camels.”
“Do the camels with one hump feel sad because they’re different?”
Jeff leaned toward her. “Maybe the two-humped camels are the different ones.”
Maggie’s eyes unexpectedly filled with tears. “I don’t want the camels to be sad.”
Ashley hadn’t seen that one coming. But before she could reach for her daughter and offer comfort, Jeff shocked her down to her toes by gently pulling the little girl onto his lap. He held her securely, as if he’d done it a thousand times before.
“Are you sad because you have brown hair?”
Maggie tilted her head so she could stare into his face. “No,” she said slowly. “Mommy says I have pretty hair.”
“Mommy’s right. So you’re not sad about how you look because you look perfect for you. Camels are the same. They know they’re exactly what they should be.”
The tears disappeared as quickly as they’d arrived. “So camels are happy?”
“Nearly all the time.”
Maggie beamed, then scrambled back to her seat where she picked up her spoon and went to work on her carrots. But Jeff didn’t resume his own meal. Instead he continued to stare at the little girl.
“Maggie, you must promise me something. You must promise me to always be special and never change.”
Maggie paused, her spoon half raised to her mouth. She grinned. “I’m gonna be a big girl soon.”
“I know.”
Something tightened in Ashley’s chest. For the first time since she’d met Jeff Ritter, she knew what he was thinking.
He was staring in wonder at her child and wishing life could always be exceptional for her.
He wanted to protect her from all the bruises and scrapes she would encounter, both physical and emotional.
Somehow little Maggie had found her way past Jeff’s protective wall.
How was she supposed to resist a man who adored her daughter? To use her daughter’s language, she would be very sad to leave this man. He’d only been a part of their lives for a short time, but he’d made an impact. When she returned to her already-in-progress life, nothing was going to be the same.
“What are you thinking?” Jeff asked, switching his attention to her.
“That Brenda was right. You’re an honorable man.”
He stiffened. “I’m no one’s idea of a hero. Don’t make me one.”
She knew that there were ghosts in his past, but they didn’t matter to her.
He was honorable in the ways that counted.
He would never leave a woman or a child in a bind.
He was dependable. He wouldn’t run off with the rent money, or borrow from a loan shark and disappear, leaving his wife to face the consequences. He was nothing like Damian.
Before she could explain what she meant, Jeff rose from the table. She glanced at his still half-full plate.
“Aren’t you hungry?” she asked. “It’s been a long time since lunch.”
“I have work.”
He left the kitchen without saying anything else. Maggie stared after him.
“Is Uncle Jeff mad?”
“No, honey, he’s just busy.”
And conflicted. Ashley sensed the battle within him.
She knew that they were the reason, but she didn’t know why.
Part of her wanted to go after him and talk, but a part of her wanted to run in the opposite direction.
Jeff might be logistically dependable, but he was still risky in other ways.
She was determined to only get involved with a man who could love her unconditionally.
Jeff wasn’t in a place to love anyone. Not until he’d dealt with his past. Attraction was acceptable—which was good because she couldn’t control hers.
But anything else was foolhardy. And she’d already been a fool for a man more than once in her life. She wasn’t about to do it again.
* * *
“Kirkman is worried about a kidnapping attempt,” Zane said the following week when he and Jeff met to discuss their upcoming job in the Mediterranean.
Jeff studied the diagrams spread out on the large conference table. “Kidnapping’s the least of it,” he replied. “At least then there’s the chance he’ll be held for ransom. They’d want to keep him alive. If I were him, I’d be more concerned about an outright hit.”
Zane grinned. “You want to tell him that?”
“Not especially.” Jeff leaned back in his chair and glanced at his partner. “But I will when I meet with him next week.”
“Rather you than me. I suspect he’s something of a screamer.”
“Screamer” was the indelicate term used to identify clients who couldn’t handle the reality of their situation.
They didn’t want to hear about the actual or potential danger, and they frequently resisted making changes in their lifestyle to keep themselves and their family safe.
Yet they were the first to start screaming the second something went wrong, most often when it was their own fault.
“I don’t doubt it.” But screamer or not, Kirkman had to be dealt with.
Zane tossed his pen onto the table and looked at his partner. “So, tell me about the woman in your life.”
“There is no woman.”
“That’s not what the rumors say. And I happen to know that you have a female living in your house with you.”
“She works for me. She’s my new housekeeper.”
Zane raised his dark eyebrows. “And?”
“And nothing. Her name is Ashley. She used to work here in the office and now she works at my house. It’s a business arrangement, nothing more.”
Even if he wanted it to be more, he wasn’t going to act on the wanting. Because it would be dangerous for them both. He couldn’t be what Ashley needed him to be, while she...
He returned his attention to the diagrams in front of him, even though he wasn’t seeing anything remotely resembling the floor plan of the main villa. Instead he saw hazel eyes bright with laughter and inhaled a sweet scent he would remember for the rest of his life.
Ashley could be very important to him, he acknowledged. But he wasn’t going to let that happen.
“What about her daughter?” Zane asked. “Kids can be tough to ignore.”
Jeff smiled. “What would you know about children?”
“I know enough to avoid them,” his partner joked. “And so have you, until recently. So what’s going on, Jeff? If you keep this up, people are going to start thinking you’re actually human.”
It was an old joke—one that Jeff didn’t find especially humorous.
He also wasn’t willing to answer any questions about Maggie.
Not when the little girl was rapidly becoming important to him.
Something had happened during the field trip to the zoo.
Being with the children, taking care of Tommy when he’d skinned his hand, had cracked some part of his protection.
Now Maggie slipped inside until he found himself thinking about her throughout the day, worrying about her.
Would the teachers at the preschool remember to make sure she wore her jacket outside when she played?
Did she finish her lunch? Had anyone treated her unfairly?
He still remembered when he’d actually taken her onto his lap to comfort her. His reaction had been pure instinct—and filled with more feelings than he cared to admit.
Both the Churchill females were making a mess of his life.
He pointed to the papers on the table. “We need the security plans finalized by the end of the week.”
“No problem.”
Zane leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. Like Jeff, he wore a suit and tie to the office. Unlike Jeff, he tended to relax during the day, rolling up his sleeves and loosening his collar. He tapped the pages in front of them.
“I can do this myself,” his partner said quietly. “It’s time to let me take charge. You know, leave it to the younger guys.”
“Why?” Jeff knew he wasn’t getting old or soft. What was Zane’s point?
“I can do this,” Zane insisted.
“That was never a question.”
“Wasn’t it? Then why do you take all the dangerous assignments for yourself? You leave me babysitting the wives, while you stake out the trouble spots.”
Jeff studied his partner. The man was only three or four years younger, but sometimes the age difference felt like decades.
Zane had a lot of the same experiences, but he was a sharpshooter and a tactician.
He’d spent most of his military years planning the operations or taking out the enemy from a distant location.
Zane had had his share of kills, but less experience with the horror.
“I don’t have family,” Jeff said. “The guy who has nothing to lose volunteers for the most dangerous job. It’s an old habit. One I’ve had trouble breaking.”
Zane’s dark eyes never wavered. “Like I have a family to go home to?”
Jeff shrugged. Zane didn’t have anyone in the world, either. “So we’re even.”