Chapter Four
Sobek left after two cups of coffee and minimal conversation, climbing into his sleek black car with a nod that might have been goodbye or might have been a muscle spasm - Rudy honestly couldn’t tell.
“Bye.” Rudy called from the porch, waving enthusiastically while the kids clustered around his legs. “Thanks again for bringing Tim back.”
The car disappeared down the driveway without so much as a brake light flash of acknowledgment.
“Well,” Rudy said to the children. “He’s not much of a talker, is he?”
Timothy made a soft rumbling sound that Rudy had learned meant agreement. Jack pressed closer to Rudy’s leg, and Rose bounced on her toes.
“Can we have snacks?” Rose asked, because of course she would. The kid had hollow legs.
“I’m sure you just had crackers.”
“But I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving, but I guess that’s a good thing, because it means you’re growing up to be healthy.
” Rudy herded them back inside, closing the door against the humid Louisiana air.
The living room looked like a war zone. Half the walls were a cheerful buttery yellow, while the other half still the dingy beige that had come with the house.
Drop cloths covered the furniture, and paint supplies sat in a chaotic heap near the ladder he’d been using before Timothy had decided to go for an unauthorized swim. Again.
Rudy sighed and headed for the kitchen. “Okay, apple slices and peanut butter. But that’s it until dinner.”
While the kids munched at the kitchen table - Rose getting more peanut butter on her face than in her mouth, Jack carefully arranging his apple slices by size, Timothy eating with the focus of someone twice his age - Rudy cleaned up the coffee mugs and tried not to think about Sobek. He failed spectacularly, naturally.
The man was just so...intense. Those dark eyes that seemed to see straight through him, the way he moved like every step was calculated, that voice that rumbled like distant thunder.
And that body - because Rudy had working eyes and a pulse, thank you very much - all hard muscle, that height and those shoulders…
Stop it, Rudy told himself firmly. You’re twenty-eight years old, not a teenager with a crush.
Except, he kind of felt like a teenager with a crush, which was both embarrassing and inconvenient.
He’d spent the past three years focused on the kids, on building a safe home for them, on making sure they had everything they needed.
Romance hadn’t even been on his radar. Hell, dating hadn’t been on his radar.
Between Jack’s nightmares, Rose’s boundless energy, and Timothy’s tendency to wander off toward water, Rudy barely had time to shower some days, let alone think about his love life… Or the lack thereof.
“More apples,” Rose demanded, holding up her empty plate.
“Please,” Rudy corrected automatically.
“More apples, please.”
Rudy cut more apple slices, his mind drifting back to Sobek despite his best efforts.
The man had been in his kitchen, drinking terrible coffee and looking completely out of place among the finger paintings on the fridge, the alphabet magnets, and the general mess that came with three small children.
But he hadn’t seemed bothered by it. He hadn’t wrinkled his nose at Rudy’s color choices or made snide comments about Rudy’s parenting or acted like the kids were inconvenient.
He’d just...sat there…like a statue…listening.
The more Rudy thought about it, the more he was sure those eyes had watched every movement Rudy had made, while keeping track of every word he’d said.
Who does that? It wasn’t as if Rudy had been saying anything important, he’d just been rambling about the kids and the house.
He probably thinks I’m completely insane, Rudy thought, scrubbing at a spot of dried pancake batter on the counter. Just some random guy who found three kids and decided to keep them like they were stray puppies.
Except that Sobek hadn’t looked at him like he was insane. He’d looked at him like... Rudy wasn’t sure how to describe that look. Intent, maybe. Focused, definitely. Or maybe that was Sobek’s resting bitch face, and he always looked like that.
“All done,” Rose announced, holding up her empty plate.
“Good girl, that’s awesome. Oh,” Rudy smiled as he noticed Tim and Jack’s plates were empty, too. “You’re all finished. Great job. Now go and play…quietly, please. I need to finish painting the living room.”
The kids scrambled down from the table and scattered - Rose to her toy kitchen in the corner, Jack to his box of dinosaurs, Timothy to the window where he could stare at the pond in the distance. Rudy grabbed the paint roller and got back to work, letting the rhythmic motion settle his thoughts.
Well, that was the plan, but it wasn’t working very well because now his brain was spinning stories, filling in the blanks Sobek hadn’t provided.
The man had said he was renting the property next door, that he’d be there for a few weeks, but that was it.
No mention of what he did for a living, where he came from, or why he was hiding out in the Louisiana swamps.
Perhaps he’s actually hiding out, as in hiding from someone.
Rudy paused mid-stroke. Could that be it?
Sobek had that whole mysterious recluse vibe going on.
He drove an expensive car, and Rudy remembered drooling over the type of clothes Sobek wore, similar to the ones he would see when he worked in retail - the clothes he could never afford.
But that same person was staying in a rental cabin in the middle of nowhere.
Maybe he was an eccentric millionaire? Some tech genius who’d made his fortune and decided to escape society.
Or a business mogul who’d burned out and needed a break from corporate life.
Rudy could picture Sobek in some sleek penthouse office, barking orders, making million-dollar deals, and being intimidating and gorgeous all at the same time. That could work.
Hmm. Rudy kept painting as he thought some more.
There was a hint of military bearing in the way Sobek moved.
No, not so much in the way he walked, but he had an alert watchfulness, like he was constantly assessing threats.
Maybe he was ex-special forces or something, retired from some classified government work that he could never talk about.
“So what do you do?”
“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
Rudy snorted at his own imagination and rolled more paint onto the wall.
You’ll be thinking he’s a secret assassin next.
However, and yes, that might have been the worst thought Rudy had, but maybe Sobek was hiding from something.
Or someone. The mafia, perhaps. Witness protection?
No. Wait. If he were in witness protection, he wouldn’t be driving a car that probably cost six figures and wearing clothes that screamed money, unless that was his disguise - a rich recluse, perfectly normal, nothing to see here.
“Oh, my god,” Rudy muttered. “You’ve been reading too many romance novels.”
“What?” Jack looked up from his dinosaurs.
“Nothing, baby. Just talking to myself.”
Jack accepted that with a solemn nod and went back to arranging his T-Rex and Triceratops in what looked like a battle formation.
Rudy dipped the roller in more paint. No matter what he did for a living, there had been times when Sobek had seemed almost...
protective. When Rudy had explained about finding the kids and about their little quirks and differences, Sobek’s expression had shifted and gone hard in a way that made Rudy’s stomach flip.
Not angry, exactly. More like someone had just threatened something he cared about and was mentally planning their demise.
Which was beyond ridiculous because Sobek didn’t know them.
Rudy sniffed cautiously at the paint on the end of the roller, but it didn’t seem pungent.
I’m not being affected by paint fumes then.
But Sobek didn’t know Rudy or the kids beyond two brief encounters involving wet children and mediocre coffee, and yet, Rudy would swear that look had been real.
Maybe he has kids of his own, Rudy decided. Perhaps that’s why he understood. It could be why he didn’t judge when I explained Jack’s hair, Rose’s claws, or Tim’s scales, because possibly he has children with similar quirks.
Except that Sobek hadn’t mentioned kids or having any family at all. There was no ring on his finger either - not that Rudy had been looking. Okay, fine, he’d been looking. Sobek had been worth checking out.
“I’m hungry,” Rose announced from across the room.
Rudy checked his watch and nearly dropped the paint roller. “How is it already five-thirty?”
Time had completely gotten away from him, which happened more often than he’d like to admit. Between the painting and the mental gymnastics about mysterious neighbors, the hours had vanished.
“Okay, dinner time. Everyone, wash your hands and then join me in the kitchen.”
The kids trooped to the bathroom, and Rudy surveyed the living room.
He’d managed to get three walls done, with one to go, which wasn’t bad for an afternoon’s work, especially considering the interruptions.
He’d finish it tomorrow. Or the day after.
Whenever he got a chance, realistically, because that was his life when he had three kids under six.
In the kitchen, Rudy pulled out ingredients for spaghetti.
It was easy, filling, and all three kids would actually eat it without complaint.
While the pasta boiled, he heated some sauce from a jar and tried very hard not to think about whether Sobek could cook.
Or what he looked like cooking. Or what he looked like in general without all those expensive black clothes.
Stop. It.
“Can we eat outside?” Jack asked, appearing at Rudy’s elbow.
“It’s too hot, baby.”
“But the mosquitoes aren’t bad yet.”
“Nice try. Table. All of you.”
Dinner wasn’t anything special. Rose ate three helpings, Jack picked out every mushroom from the sauce despite Rudy’s best efforts to hide them, and Timothy ate steadily while staring at nothing in particular.
Rudy had learned not to push when Timothy went quiet like that.
The kid liked to spend a lot of time in his head and would come back when he was ready.
“Bath time after dinner,” Rudy announced, because if he didn’t start the evening routine now, they’d never get to bed at a reasonable hour.
“Do we have to?” Rose whined.
“I think so. You’ve got peanut butter in your hair.”
“How did that happen?” Rose’s sauce-covered fingers were suddenly in her hair as if she was looking for it, and Rudy shook his head with a smile.
“I have no idea, but you do, and now you have sauce as well.”
While the kids finished eating, Rudy’s mind drifted back to Sobek one more time.
The way those dark eyes had tracked Timothy across the kitchen.
The careful way he’d held his coffee mug, like he was afraid he’d break it.
The rumbling voice that had said You’re a good parent like it were both a surprise and a revelation.
Rudy had nearly melted right there on his rainbow kitchen floor.
Get a grip, he told himself firmly. You don’t even know the man. He’s probably got a whole life somewhere else. A partner. Kids. A perfectly normal explanation for being here that has nothing to do with mafia witness protection programs or secret military operations.
“Daddy?” Jack tugged at his sleeve.
“Hmm?”
“You’re smiling funny.”
“Am I?”
“Uh-huh. Like you do when you read your books after we go to bed.”
Rudy felt his cheeks heat. Trust Jack to notice. “I’m just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Nothing important. Come on, bath time.”
He herded the kids upstairs, running the water and adding bubbles while they stripped down. Rose immediately cannonballed in, sending water everywhere. Jack climbed in more carefully, and Timothy slipped in last, silent as always.
Rudy sat on the closed toilet lid, supervising, his mind finally settling.
Maybe Sobek was just a guy. A quiet, intense, unfairly attractive guy who’d been nice enough to return Timothy twice and hadn’t run screaming when faced with Rudy’s chaotic household. That was probably all there was to it.
And maybe - just maybe - Rudy would see him again. The man was renting next door for a few more weeks, after all. Surely Timothy would find his way back to that pond at least once more.
Not that you want him to wander off, Rudy reminded himself. You want him to stay in the yard like you’ve asked him to seventeen thousand times.
But if Timothy did wander...well, at least Rudy knew his current, and very temporary, neighbor would bring him back.