The Reborn

Chapter Eleven

Eleven

Olivia

Imulled over Justin’s words the entire time I bathed Lizzy and washed her thick curls. Then as I helped her brush her teeth and slide into her nightie and put her to bed with Goodnight Moon for the millionth time.

All the while, I could feel his presence in the house. He was silent, but his masculine energy filled the air like a pulsing, virile beast. By the time I kissed Elizabeth good night and shut her door, I was vibrating with nerves.

Yes, he was hotter than sin with glacier-cool eyes that threatened to melt me... but it was more than that. The ease we’d found over dinner with friendly talk and slow smiles died the moment he’d reminded me why he was there, which I’d been na?ve to forget.

Suspect list.

Background checks.

I knew this was coming, but still, I wanted to avoid it like I wanted to avoid walking the plank.

I went to my room first and took a quick shower, rinsing off a day of dance classes and tension. Then I changed into some yoga pants and a loose Spartans jersey I’d stolen from my brother before coming back out to face the music.

I found Justin sitting on the couch, bent over the coffee table, flipping through the folder he’d brought the first day we met at the diner. He glanced up when he heard me enter and his eyes slid over me from my bare feet up to the wet hair hanging over my shoulder, before coming to rest on my clean face.

The way he studied me made me suddenly feel naked. I moved into the room, breaking our eye contact so he wouldn’t see the blush rising from my neck to my cheeks. Needing something to do with my hands and wanting desperately to break the silence, I made my way to the stereo and fired up the CD that was already in the player.

Slowly, I turned around to find he had leaned back, his inscrutable gaze on me. He lifted a brow as the first hard hitting guitar riffs hit the air.

“Not an opera or concerto?”

I bit back a smile at the fact I’d surprised him. “Do I look like an opera or concerto girl to you?”

“Actually, yes.”

I lifted a brow back. “Really?”

“Well... maybe not now, but...” He tilted his head toward the photos from my last professional performance of Swan Lake.

Cute. “I dance to those, but at home, I prefer something a bit different.” I sat in the chair across from him as the singer began to wail about his pain over toxic love and its bloody claws in his heart. I knew the feeling.

“What band is this?”

“Zero-energy.” At his blank stare, I clarified, “My cousin, Cohen, is a musician. It’s his band. He’s the lead guitarist.”

He listened a bit longer, then nodded. “They’re really good.”

“Thanks. I think so. After busting their asses on the bar scene for years, they just signed their first record deal. I think he said they’ll also be going on tour in a few months.”

“That’s cool.”

I nodded as the heavy beat pulsed around us. In the light of my living room lamp, his dark hair took on almost purple tones and his eyes sparked a deeper shade of blue, like the ocean under moonlight. The stubble had grown out on his face since that morning, and when he turned his head, I caught a glimpse of a small white scar at the edge of his chin.

He held perfectly still as we listened to the song, his potent energy contained, yet I could feel his raw power. It was easy to imagine him in the military, sneaking up on some unsuspecting enemy and ruthlessly eliminating them. It was also easy to imagine the way his calloused fingers would feel on my...

No.

Nope.

Not again.

I would not be that stupid again. Not even in a fantasy.

I rolled my shoulders and squared my gaze on his, deciding it was best to bite the bullet and get this over with. “You said something about suspects?”

“I did.”

When he didn’t say anything for several long moments, I raised a brow in question.

“Relax, Olivia,” he said, reclining farther back with his ankle crossed over his knee, his body language deceptively calm. “We’re on the same team, remember?”

I took a breath. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay.” He leaned forward and flipped a tab in his folder. “I think it’s safe to say we can rule out random weirdos. All of this is too personal.” His gaze lifted to mine. “Can you think of anyone who has a grudge against you? For any reason?”

“No!” I blurted out a little too fast, then bit my lip as we stared at each other.

“You sure about that?”

“I... well... define grudge. I was a principal dancer in the Houston ballet and I got several lead roles in big productions. I’m sure there were plenty of jealous dancers who—”

“You haven’t been in that position for years, Olivia.” He cocked his head. “You know what I’m asking. Have you cheated on anyone? Cut anyone’s throat in business? Burned any bridges lately?”

I wanted to cut his throat right about then, but I held firm as I stared him down. “No. I’m not like that.”

He nodded and let the music fill the air for a moment before asking, “Any exes who weren’t interested in being exes?”

I held my spine straight even when every bit of me wanted to crumble under the weight of that question. He was so far off base, yet had still managed to touch a nerve, and the look on his face told me he knew it. “No,” I managed to whisper.

“And—?”

“And that includes Elizabeth’s father,” I cut him off before he could ask the question. “Who doesn’t give a shit about me or her, and he doesn’t even live in the United States, so you can cross him right off your list, okay?”

He stared me down hard for a long minute, as if he was trying to decipher the truth. “Yeah, okay,” he finally said, though his tone said it was anything but okay.

“Are we done here?”

“Sure. For now.”

I nodded and jumped up to race from the room so he wouldn’t see my stupid overly emotional reaction.

Down the hall, I poked my head in Lizzy’s room, where she was sound asleep, so I kept going and shut myself into my own bedroom and leaned my back against the door with a sigh. What the hell was wrong with me? Why was I getting so twisted up over simple questions about her father? Justin was just doing his job and asking things that made sense.

Because . . .

I squeezed my eyes shut as tears burned behind my eyelids as visions of the life I fleetingly had in Italy—the life Christoph had promised, then torched so traumatically—was still chasing me. Not as an unrequited dream, but as my greatest shame. As a woman and as a mother. How could I have let that happen? Not only to myself, but to my child? How had I not seen the signs?

The therapist I saw religiously for the first year or so after I got back to Texas said she couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like Christoph was probably a world-class narcissist, and with my giving nature, it wasn’t surprising I fell for his manipulation. Really made me feel better. Not. Well, I did eventually grow to understand the idea rationally, if not emotionally. What can I say? I was a work in progress.

I blew out a breath and threw myself on my bed, letting my collection of throw pillows pad my fall. I rolled over a few minutes later at the sound of the guest bathroom door closing across the hall. As I stared at the ceiling, the rush of water sounded through the walls, then the hiss of the shower.

Oh Lord. Justin Ashford was naked.

In my house.

Just a few feet away.

Heat filled my cheeks and curled through my body in an automatic rush.

I turned my head toward the door as if I could see through the wall with X-ray vision.

In a nanosecond, I went from being angsty and worried about a narcissistic ex to hot and bothered about a man I hardly knew, yet who felt strangely familiar in ways I couldn’t begin to understand. Not surprisingly, it wasn’t all that difficult to imagine him under the water, wet and soapy. I pictured him under the spray, head bent as the hot water washed over him, steam billowing around his broad shoulders. I could just see how the water droplets clung to his wet lashes and his dark stubble. How the stream washed down his wide chest and solid abs, toward the fine trail of hair that led toward his hard—

I yelped when my cell phone rang from my nightstand. I scrambled for it, realizing that my entire body was flushed and sensitive, my nipples peaked, and my panties soaked.

My heart was pounding behind my ribs as I accepted the call with a deep breath. “Hello?”

“Olivia?” Whitney’s voice was instantly concerned. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m good. Just, uh, had to run to get the phone.” I sat up and adjusted my shirt. “What’s up?”

Something ruffled as she moved on the other end. “Uh, I don’t know, how about as your bestie, I’m calling for all the details about your friend.” She said that last word as if she’d been privy to my thoughts just before her call.

As if on cue, the shower cut off across the hall.

“What about him?”

“Hello? Earth to Olivia. You never said anything about him being fucking hot!”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, girl. Pretty sure I would’ve remembered that and been on the lookout for that pretty piece of eye candy to stroll into the studio.”

“Yes,” I said again slowly with a frown. “I told you he was coming and our cover story because I knew you’d never believe we were college friends.”

Her long beat of silence as she computed what I was saying—that a guy who looked like that would never have given a girl like me the time of day—finally sank in. “Ummm... why not?”

“Is this a serious question?”

“Oh my God! Is this your neuroses talking? You’re a smoke show!”

I rolled my eyes and couldn’t help but grin at her assessment of my less than voluptuous assets. “You’re sweet.”

“I’m honest.”

“Honest or not, during college, I pretty much had the figure of a preteen boy and wasn’t interested in much more than my dancing career. Someone like Justin would not have looked at me twice.”

She snorted adorably, giving my ego a boost. “So, what’s he like?”

I glanced over as his quiet footsteps padded by outside my door. A moment later, the guest room door closed with a barely audible click. “An enigma,” I said without thinking.

When I realized the line had gone silent, I focused back on the call. “Hello?”

“You like him.” Whitney declared it with a strange quality to her voice. In all our years as friends, I’d never really shown interest in a man, so this must be as foreign an idea to her as non-alcoholic margaritas.

“I barely know him.”

“And yet...” She let that thought linger there for a moment. “Well, if he’s gonna be around for a while, I’ll see what kind of person he is. You know I’ve got a sixth sense for these things. I’ll be able to tell if he’s good enough for you.”

“Whit! Nobody said anything about all that! He’s here to work because my brother is paying him. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good night,” I said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, you will. Love you.”

“I love you, too, even if you’re a hopelessly delusional romantic.”

She was laughing as we disconnected, and I hugged a pillow to my chest, mulling over our call. Justin was an enigma. I didn’t know much about the man currently taking up residence in my guest room, other than he worked for a high-end security company that my big brother trusted implicitly, he said he used to be a Navy SEAL, had won the Navy Cross, and wore his own scars like armor. Yet when he smiled, I could see tiny glimpses of someone else underneath. Someone warm and kind. Soft and caring. Maybe that was my imagination, creating what I wanted to see. I’d learned the hard way that I tend to see the best in everyone, even when it wasn’t there. Even when it bit me in the ass, and I winded up pregnant and alone.

The next thingI knew, I was waking up with the first rays of sunshine streaming in my still open blinds. Groggy, I wiped my eyes and realized I’d dozed off in my clothes after my call with Whitney and slept like the dead. My cell had fallen onto the bed next to me, so I picked it up and checked the time. Almost seven thirty.

The house was still quiet, but I could hear Lizzy’s soft babbling as she talked to herself in that sweet, happy chatter of a child.

I smiled up at the ceiling as contentedness hit me in soft waves. Life was good in that moment because my daughter and I were safe in our home, and I’d slept amazingly because of it.

I rose and used the restroom, then ran a brush through my wild hair.

Out in the hallway, all the doors were closed, so I figured Justin must still be sleeping. I tiptoed to Elizabeth’s room and cracked open the door. She smiled up at me from her bed, her big hazel eyes bright.

“Mama!” She jumped up and lifted her arms my way, her favorite stuffed toy in one hand, a sippy cup of juice in another.

I went in and picked her up with a kiss, then pointed at the cup I had not put her to bed with. “Where’d you get the drink, sweetie?”

“Man, joo,” she singsonged to me. “Man, joo.”

I frowned, confused, but walked out toward the kitchen to start breakfast. Too late. On the counter was a box of pastries from the local bakery and a bowl of mixed fruit as well as a to-go coffee with a sticky note on the box taken from my junk drawer.

Was up early so I grabbed breakfast since you spoiled me with the most amazing tacos I’ve had in a while. Heard the baby was up before you so I gave her some juice. Hope that was OK.

J.

My silly heart fluttered in my chest. “The man gave you juice?” I jostled Lizzy on my hip.

She just smiled and sipped her cup, pointing a chubby finger toward the box of goodies.

“You hungry?” I opened the box and found an assortment of donuts, muffins, and croissants. I put Elizabeth in her high chair with half a blueberry muffin cut into bite-sized pieces and a few small pieces of fruit, then sat next to her with a croissant and the coffee, feeling a bit off-kilter. I’d never had anyone do something so—simply kind. Sure, my family did nice things for me all the time, but they were family. And Whitney was always there for me if I needed her. But this... this felt different for some reason, even though I tried to reason with myself it was just breakfast in exchange for a home-cooked dinner. It meant nothing.

We ate and I found myself sad that Justin was apparently nowhere around. When we were done, I dressed us both for the day, then grabbed up our bags and stepped outside only to stop short as Elizabeth began to wiggle and point from her perch on my hip. “Man, joo!”

Justin had the hood up on my car and was bent over with half his body under there, giving me nothing but a view of jean-clad ass and his work boots. When he heard the door, he uncoiled to stand, showcasing a nicely fit red t-shirt and even darker stubble. Those icy eyes landed on me before sliding over to Elizabeth as she pointed and smiled at him.

I walked closer and she got even more excited, bringing a hint of a smile to his own lips. “We both wanted to thank you for breakfast,” I said.

The smile didn’t leave him as he looked back to me. “If I’d known all it took was juice to win a girl’s heart, I would’ve pulled out that trick sooner.”

“We’re not all this easy.”

“That’s a shame,” he murmured, making sparks fire under my skin. “But you’re both still welcome.”

“So...” I tilted my head toward my car. “Maybe a dumb question, but what are you doing?”

“Not dumb.” He picked up a rag from the fender and began to wipe his greasy fingers. “I could hear those squeaky brakes of yours from two counties over, so I fixed them. Then, while I was at it, I checked all your fluids and changed your oil because it was, well... when was the last time you had that done?”

I gaped. “You . . . you . . . did all that? This morning?”

“I also paid some of my bills online and did a quick workout. In the house, of course. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone for too long just yet. But yes.” He dropped the dirty rag and crossed his arms across his chest. “You really need to keep up with your car better.”

Now I felt like a true slacker. “You didn’t need to do all that.”

“Hey.” He tipped my chin up with a careful finger. “I know I didn’t. I wanted to. Plus, it makes you safer, which is technically my job, right? So, it’s all good.”

With his finger near my face, Elizabeth reached over and grabbed it, wrapping her own little fingers around it as if she found it fascinating. “Man, joo!” She yanked it closer, bending it at an awkward angle.

He froze at first, as if he didn’t know what to do, then something washed over his face like her touch hurt, before he banked that away and let her lead him in. “Jus-tin,” he said slowly, sounding out his name for her. “Justin.”

“Jusin,” she tried.

He laughed, a hearty laugh that lit up his face. “Close enough.”

That laugh did things to my insides I didn’t dare begin to name so I pulled Lizzy’s hand back with a smile that felt forced. “Well... thank you.”

His grin fell a fraction. “You’re welcome.”

I readjusted Lizzy on my hip and pulled out my keys. “Are you about done? I usually leave to drop her off at daycare about now, then I have some things I need to do at the studio.”

He reached over to move the rag and a wrench, then slammed the hood. “All good.” He faced me again, his expression back to iceberg status. “I’ll be here most of the day finishing up the security system install on the house and a few other projects. When you get home, we can talk about my plans for your car and the studio.”

“Do you think all of this is overkill?” I asked the question that had been plaguing me since the moment we met in that diner. Creepy note aside, nothing else of significance had happened to me directly, so maybe someone was just playing a prank or something. A horribly mean prank, but still...

“No.” His tone rang with such authority, such finality, I was taken aback.

Elizabeth began to squirm, so I held up a finger so he’d give me a minute. I buckled her into her car seat and started the car, then stood facing him again. “Why not?”

Those intense eyes of his slid over my face, taking me in for a moment. “You might not like having me here, and I don’t blame you for that, but I think we both know the threat in that note was very real.”

My heart kicked against my ribs in acknowledgment even as I wanted to deny the truth of his words. I didn’t want it to be true, but I could feel it in my bones, and I was scared out of my mind. “Maybe...” I glanced away, composing myself so he wouldn’t see my unease.

“There’s no maybe about it.”

My gaze snapped back to his at his low but firm words. His icy eyes were sparking a dark, determined fire of their own.

I took a breath and turned to sit. “I need to get going,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t give away my sudden nerves.

His expression softened just a touch and he took a step back. “Of course. I’ll see you later, but you call me if you need me.”

He closed my door before I could. I did not meet his gaze, but I could feel his on me as I backed out of the driveway, then took off down the street.

On a big breath, I did manage a last glance in the rearview mirror, and sure enough, there he was, standing with his bulky arms folded across his chest, staring after us from the driveway.

At the stop sign at the end of the road, my cell pinged with a text. Nobody was around, so I grabbed it and glanced at the screen.

Justin:Nothing about your safety is overkill. Remember that.