CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“It needs more salt.” I lean over the bubbling pot to taste the sauce one more time.
Tacoma’s warm body presses against my back, his strong arms snaking around my waist as he props his chin on my shoulder. His chest rumbles with laughter against me.
“You’ve tasted it four times already, Angel. It’s fine.”
I roll my eyes even though he can’t see my face. “It’s not fine. Something’s missing.”
“Yeah,” he says, his voice dropping to that deep, growly tone that makes my toes curl. “You naked in our bed is what’s missing.”
Our bed.
Heat floods my cheeks, and I glance over at the kitchen island where Saylor and Jagger are working on their homework.
Thankfully, they’re too focused on their assignments to hear their dad.
“Behave,” I hiss, elbowing him gently in the ribs.
He chuckles and presses a kiss to my neck before pulling away to grab a beer from the fridge. “Ain’t a man on this planet who’d disagree.”
Heat spreads across my cheeks as I try not to smile.
Lord, have mercy.
He’s full of it.
Turning my attention back to the stove, I stir the ground beef I’m browning on the stove for the famous Million Dollar Spaghetti I’m making for dinner.
It’s my first time cooking for all of them, and I’m nervous as hell.
I want it to be perfect.
“Cali?” Saylor’s voice pipes up from the island.
My heart does a little flip whenever she calls me by my real name. I turn to face her, spoon in hand. “Yeah, sweetie?”
“Are you coming with us to the fall fair?” Her blue eyes—so like her father’s—are wide with excitement.
“It’s the first weekend in October every year, and it’s the best thing ever!
They have a Ferris wheel and games and cotton candy, and last year I won a stuffed unicorn that was this big!
” She stretches her arms out as wide as they’ll go.
“The whole town goes,” Jagger adds, looking up from his algebra homework. “It’s actually pretty cool.”
Coming from a sixteen-year-old boy, that’s high praise indeed.
“I’d love to come,” I tell them, and the smile that breaks across Saylor’s face is worth everything.
It hits me then, as I stand here in this kitchen with these people who’ve somehow become so important to me in such a short time—I’ve been in Odin for three weeks now.
Three whole weeks.
I can’t remember the last time I stayed in one place for so long.
For as long as I’ve been an adult, my life has been a whirlwind, never getting too comfortable, never staying in one place for very long.
And yet here I am, making dinner in Tacoma’s kitchen like I belong here.
The strangest part?
I do feel like I belong here.
Being with Tacoma and his children has been the best three weeks of my life. I’ve never felt so content, so at peace.
“There’s a petting zoo too,” Saylor continues, oblivious to my internal revelation. “And pony rides and—”
“And the best funnel cake you’ve ever tasted,” Tacoma interjects, leaning against the counter with his beer. His eyes are soft as he watches me stir the meat, and something warm unfurls in my chest.
I turn back to the stove, hiding my smile. “Well, I can’t miss that, now can I?”
“What kind of sauce are you putting in that?” Tacoma asks, peering over my shoulder again.
I open my mouth to answer when my burner phone starts vibrating in my back pocket.
My stomach instantly knots.
Only a handful of people have this number, and none of them call for social reasons.
Wiping my hands on a dish towel, I pull out the phone and check the screen.
Georgia area code.
I don’t recognize the number, but that’s not unusual in my line of work.
“I need to take this,” I say, stepping away from the stove. “Can you watch the meat for a minute?”
Tacoma’s eyes narrow slightly, but he nods, taking my place at the stove.
I press the phone to my ear. “Housekeeping.”
“This is Micky Figaro,” a gruff male voice responds. “Need to schedule an appointment for Friday. The deluxe package for eight rooms.”
My blood runs cold.
The deluxe package means body removal and a complete bio scrub. Eight rooms means there are eight bodies.
Jesus. What the hell happened?
All my clients know the protocol.
Once I confirm the appointment, they send the location through a secure server that routes the information globally before finally returning it to me.
Thanks to Dex, Miami’s tech man, the whole process takes less than a second and is completely untraceable.
“Your appointment has been confirmed,” I say, keeping my voice neutral.
I end the call and slide the phone back into my pocket, my mind already racing through the logistics.
Georgia.
That’s at least a seven-hour drive.
I’ll need to leave late tonight if I’m going to make it there by morning.
When I turn back to the stove, Tacoma’s eyes are locked on me, his jaw set in a hard line. “You have to go,” he says.
It’s not a question.
I nod, a pit forming in my stomach. “It’s a job. In Georgia.”
“No!”
I close my eyes at the hurt I hear in Saylor’s voice.
Slowly opening them, I turn around, and my heart hits the floor.
Saylor has tears streaming down her cheeks, her bottom lip trembling.
My eyes shift to Jagger. His fists are balled as he stares angrily at the paper on the island, refusing to look at me.
“I’ll come back,” I whisper, my heart twisting painfully in my chest. “It’s only for a couple of days.”
Jagger shoves his paper across the bar, jumps off the barstool, and storms out of the kitchen.
“Jagger! Get back here!” Tacoma drops his gaze to me, and I watch as the shutters come down over those beautiful blue eyes.
His face is unreadable, shutting me out.
Tears gather in my eyes, and I blink rapidly to keep them from falling.
Why does this hurt so much?
I’ve never had anyone care whether I stayed or went.
But these kids—this family—they’ve wormed their way into my heart in a way I never expected.
Saylor slides off her stool, comes around the island, and wraps her arms around my waist. “I don’t want you to go.”
Tacoma clenches his jaw.
He’s upset too; I can see it in the tightness around his eyes and the rigid set of his shoulders.
I hug Saylor back, breathing in the strawberry scent of her shampoo. “I know, sweetie. But I promise I’ll come back. And it’s only for a few days.”
Tacoma sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m going to check on Jagger.”
As he leaves the kitchen, Saylor tightens her grip on me. “You promise you’ll come back? Pinky promise?”
My throat tightens as I hold out my pinky to her. “Pinky promise.”
She hooks her tiny finger with mine, her blue eyes serious. “Grown-ups don’t always keep their promises. Like my mom.”
My heart shatters into a million pieces. “I’m not your mom, Say. When I make a promise, I keep it.”
She nods, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Okay.”
I turn back to the stove, trying to focus on dinner, but my mind is a whirlwind.
I’m torn between the job I need to do and the people who’ve become so important to me.
But I still have tonight.
I’m going to make the most of it, and then I’ll take care of what needs to be done in Georgia and return.
It’s fine.
Everything is fine.
Even as I think it, I have an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach.
What if I’m wrong?
Hot water cascades down my back as I tilt my head under the shower spray, trying to wash away the tension of the evening.
Dinner was a strained affair. Jagger barely looked at me, pushing his food around his plate more than eating it.
Saylor was subdued, her usual chatter noticeably absent.
And Tacoma?
He was quiet too, lost somewhere deep in his head.
The shower door opens behind me, and Tacoma steps in, his hands immediately finding my hips. He pulls me back against his chest, and I lean into him, grateful for the contact.
“I’m sorry about dinner,” I say, turning to face him. “I didn’t mean to upset everyone.”
He doesn’t respond, just presses his lips to mine in a kiss that feels desperate, almost frantic.
His hands roam my body, pulling me closer, like he’s trying to memorize every curve, every dip.
There’s an urgency to his touch that hasn’t been here before.
When we finally step out of the shower, I wrap a towel around my body, tucking the corner under my arm to secure it.
Tacoma wraps a towel around his waist but doesn’t look at me as he walks out of the bathroom without a word.
I drop my head and sigh.
It’s not like I’m happy about having to go either.
Lifting my head, I follow him out to the bedroom. “Tacoma—”
“I think this was a bad idea,” he says, not meeting my eyes as he steps into a black pair of basketball shorts.
My breath seizes in my lungs, and I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. “What do you mean, this was a bad idea? What are you saying?”
He runs a hand through his damp hair, his back still to me. “This. Us. The kids getting attached. It was a mistake.”
I stare at him, not believing what I’m hearing. “You don’t mean that.”
“Look,” he says, finally turning to face me. His eyes are cold, distant. “It was fun, but we knew it wouldn’t last. This isn’t your home.”
I flinch, his words like a knife to my already bleeding heart.
How can he say that? After everything we’ve shared these past three weeks? After telling me he was falling in love with me?
“I don’t understand,” I whisper, tears welling in my eyes. “Last night you said—”
“I know what I said,” he cuts me off, his voice hard. “But I’ve had time to think. This isn’t going to work, Cali. You’re always going to have to leave. That’s your job. And my kids can’t handle that kind of instability.”
Tears spill down my cheeks now, hot and angry. “That’s not fair. I love them and their stubborn ass father. And you love me.” He hasn’t said the words, but he shows me every day.
“Love?” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “After three weeks? Come on, Cali. We were fucking. That’s all this was.”
His words hit their mark, and my heart shatters into a million pieces. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” he says flatly. “It was fun, but let’s not pretend it was anything more than that.”
I stare at him, searching his face for any sign of the man I thought I knew, the man who held me and whispered sweet words against my skin—the man who vowed that I was his.
But that man is long gone. Vanished.
All I see is a cold stranger.
“You’re lying,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “I don’t know why, but you’re lying.”
“Think whatever you want,” he shrugs. “But you need to leave.”
Something inside me hardens at his callous dismissal.
If this is how he wants to play it, fine.
I’ve been hurt before.
I’ll survive this, too.
Dropping my towel, I yank on my clothes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break down.
I grab my duffel bag from the closet and start throwing in what little of my stuff I’ve brought in from the RV.
“Panda!” I call.
He scurries out from under the bed, chittering anxiously as if he senses the tension in the room.
I scoop him up and hold him close, finding comfort in his body close to mine.
Without another word to Tacoma, I sling my bag over my shoulder and head for the door.
As I reach the stairs, I hear small footsteps pounding down the hallway.
“Cali!” Saylor cries, appearing at the top of the stairs in her pajamas. “Where are you going?”
My heart breaks all over again. “I have to leave, sweetie.”
“But you said tomorrow morning,” she protests, her lower lip trembling. “You promised we’d have breakfast together.”
Jagger appears behind his sister, his face a mask of hurt and anger. “You’re leaving? Just like that?”
I swallow hard, trying to hold back fresh tears. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”
“Why?” Saylor demands, tears streaming down her face. “You promised!”
“I—“ I start, but Jagger cuts me off.
“Don’t bother,” he says, his voice cold. “They never keep their promises.”
I flinch, because he’s right. I can’t keep my promise now. Not because I don’t want to. “Jagger, I—”
“Save it,” he snaps, turning away. “I knew you’d leave eventually. They always do.”
Saylor rushes down the stairs and throws her arms around my waist. “Please don’t go. Please, Cali.”
I drop to my knees, setting Panda down so I can hug her properly. “I’m so sorry, Say. I have to.”
“But you’ll come back, right?” she asks, her voice small and broken. “You pinky promised.”
I open my mouth to reassure her, but Tacoma’s voice cuts through the moment.
“Saylor, go back to bed.” He’s standing in the bedroom doorway, his face expressionless. “Cali has to leave.”
Saylor’s face crumples. “But Daddy—”
“Now, Saylor.”
She gives me one last desperate hug before pulling away, her small shoulders shaking with sobs as she climbs the stairs.
Jagger follows after her, but not before giving me one last look of betrayal that cuts me to the core.
I stand, picking up Panda again, and face Tacoma.
I wait a beat, praying he’ll take it all back and say he was wrong, but he doesn’t.
He just stands there, jaw clenched, eyes cold.
“Goodbye, Tacoma,” I whisper.
I make my way to my RV, each step feeling like I’m walking through quicksand.
Once inside, I set Panda down and lean against the door, finally allowing myself to break down.
Sobs tear through me, painful and raw, as the full weight of what just happened crashes down.
I’ve lost them.
All of them.
The man I was falling in love with, the children who had become so dear to me.
Gone.
I give myself a minute to cry.
To purge the emotions threatening to suffocate me.
Then I wipe my face and straighten my shoulders.
I have a job to do.