Guardian (9 page)

She ignored him, picking at the splinters in her hand until David grabbed her wrists. The perp could have turned that letter opener against her, maiming her, killing her. “Why didn’t you go to a neighbor’s and call for help instead of charging inside half-cocked?”

“Would you have left your child inside without checking first?”

He should have known better than to argue with a lawyer.

Sophie tugged her arms free. “That’s what I thought. I appreciate your looking around outside. Please, go home now.”

He set his jaw and readied his next argument.

“Mom?” Brice called from the hall. “Why are you awake? Is something wrong?”

Sophie heard her son’s voice and breathed a mental sigh of relief. Her nerves already on edge from the break-in scare, she needed to think before making any decisions. She wanted to leap all over his offer of help, leap all over the comfort he offered as well.

As frustrating as it was to sit here with David, it really was a good thing she had called Madison after phoning the cops—since the police still hadn’t arrived.

She pulled away from David and crossed to her son. “Hi, sweetie. Sorry if we woke you.”

“What’s Haley Rose’s dad doing here?” Frowning, Brice stopped beside his mother. “Is something the matter?”

“Everything’s fine. Try to go back to sleep before we wake Nanny, too.”

She missed the days when her little boy would ask for hugs and gift her with sloppy baby kisses. She needed to hold her son close, to reassure herself he hadn’t been hurt while she’d been taking a moonlight stroll, mooning over David Berg instead of staying inside watching out for her child. Her throat went tight.

Brice shifted from one foot to the other. Eyes wide, he looked from Sophie to David. “Are you sure?”

His concern seemed so manly coming from a kid wearing nothing but an overlong adult-size T-shirt. Like every night since Lowell’s death, Brice slept in one of
his father’s old shirts. Some days she longed to shred those T-shirts, constant reminders of a man she had once loved, but who hadn’t loved her enough to live.

Brice’s T-shirt sported the logo of a regatta Lowell had entered three years ago. The entry fee could have paid last month’s mortgage.

Her son couldn’t give up the security of his father’s clothes. What would he do if they lost their home? She searched for reassuring words to calm a child with too many adult worries. “I’m positive, kiddo.”
Liar.
“Everything’s fine.”

Brice scratched his knobby knee just below the T-shirt. “If nothing’s wrong, then what’s he doing here?”

Sophie silenced David with a slight shake of her head, then wished she hadn’t turned to him again. He looked too good in khaki shorts and a polo shirt, bared long arms and legs attesting to whipcord strength. Dark hair sprinkled along his skin.

Bristle over strength, like the man.

She remembered well the comfort those strong arms could offer. That didn’t mean he wanted to be her on-call bodyguard.

“Mom?” Brice stepped between Sophie and David, turning sideways, putting more distance between the couple.

“Oh.” Sophie slid her gaze back to her son. “We had a prowler outside. He’s gone now.” Cupping Brice’s shoulder, she gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Just to be safe, I called David, uh, Major Berg to help me look around until I can fill out a police report. Would you mind knocking on Nanny’s door so I can talk to her?”

David waited until her son left the room before he
pinned Sophie with a determined stare. “Maybe you should pack a few things and stay somewhere else.”

Sophie bridled at his take-charge attitude. Asking for help didn’t signify an abdication of her own responsibilities, damn it.

She added another step to the space between them. “I think that’s a little premature. I should hear what the police have to say first.”

A siren wailed lowly in the distance.

David scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “And there they are. About damn time.”

“Then you can leave now. I’ve got this.” Sophie could still feel the heat of his touch on her shoulder from when he’d comforted her in her office. A deeper ache settled in her stomach, tingling lower still, making her want his hands on her again—without the barrier of clothes.

“Or I can wait for you to finish up.” His stubborn jaw jutted.

And no matter how much she wanted to argue with him, she had to think smart and use the resources available to her. She had to know if someone had targeted her house in particular. If so, had that person been staking out her place the whole time? Had someone been watching her in order to slip in during the only time this evening when she’d been away from the house?

She hugged herself tighter against the chill seeping all the way to her bones and tried not to think about the warmth of David’s touch.

Stifling a yawn, David watched the patrol car pull out of Sophie’s driveway. It was pushing three in the morning and he had to work in a few hours. But he wasn’t leaving until he had her buttoned up tight in her house.

What a night.

Prints had been lifted, casts made of the footprints. Nothing more could be done for now. Sophie didn’t see any reason to leave the house, and David couldn’t come up with a concrete reason to make her change her mind.

He stretched his arms over his head and worked the kink out of his neck. At least he didn’t have to field angry calls from Leslie about a late-nighter at the base. Their marriage had collapsed under the pressure of his job—no great surprise since military service members checked in with one of the highest divorce rates in the country. The Berg union was merely one more sad statistic.

As downright pissed as he got with Leslie, he knew the breakup had hurt her as well. He never should have
married anyone, and she’d been so young. Too young. She’d been overwhelmed by the stress of being a military wife with a kid and another on the way.

But how could he regret something that had resulted in Haley Rose? And as much as it hurt like hell not to see Hunter, David wouldn’t trade the time they’d had as a family for anything.

The divorce had been messy, no question. But once he’d accepted Leslie wasn’t coming home and only wanted enough money to start over, he’d written the check without a wince. Leslie’s decision that he would be the better parent for Haley Rose had filled him with an almost nauseating relief over not losing his daughter, followed by a crushing grief that Hunter wouldn’t be a part of his life.

Realistically, he understood he needed to make further adjustments for his single-parent status. Increasing hours in the operational test world made serious demands on his time. He couldn’t take advantage of his sister’s help indefinitely.

With his upcoming promotion to lieutenant colonel, he was slated to go to a desk job at the Pentagon. Not exactly his cup of tea, but hell, he would spend more time behind a safe desk and less time away from home. He often wondered if he could have traveled less, if he’d chosen a different career path in the air force, maybe his marriage might have stood a chance.

All regrets aside, he didn’t love Leslie, and she didn’t love him. She managed the part-time-parent role, so Haley Rose still had a mother. What more could he do?

Not repeat his mistakes.

He climbed the steps back up to Sophie’s, his pace slower this time than when he’d bolted up two at a stride to get to her.

David nudged the front door open with his toe and looked around the empty living room. He could hear Sophie in the next room, her husky tones that somehow seemed at odds with her softer appearance.

Her voice lured him. He’d never simply listened to her, the force of their attraction distracting him. Her tone told him far more than her words, its low pitch hinting at a hard-won maturity. Being widowed so young would affect anyone.

David paused by a framed family portrait on the wall displaying toddler-aged Brice sitting on his mother’s lap. Sophie was tucked under the arm of the sandy-haired man behind her as she smiled down at her son.

Murmurs drifted from the kitchen where the women spoke. Sophie’s voice flowed over him, into him. David traced a finger along the frame.

David heard the older woman’s laugh and stepped away from the Campbell family portrait. He needed to make tracks out—now.

“David, is that you?” Sophie called, the husky sound of her catching him in the gut.

“Uh-huh.” He followed her voice into the kitchen. “I’m just finishing up.”

He liked this room better than the rest of her house. School flyers littered the refrigerator. Some kind of school project made out of clay, shells, and pipe cleaners lay half completed on the bar separating the cooking area from the table. White walls and light blue curtains seemed airy rather than sterile like the living room.

A family lived here, making memories.

Nanny stood beside Sophie at the sink, working free the splinters peppering Sophie’s palm. Sophie and her grandmother stood shoulder to shoulder in height. The
older woman possessed a birdlike frailty with none of Sophie’s softening curves. A wrist-thick braid twisted in a bun on her head seemed too heavy for her fragile neck to support.

Frustration steamed over him. Two women and a child, alone, without even a rudimentary security system. Apparently living in a gated community hadn’t done shit for keeping her safe.

The older lady glanced up, smiling. “Hello, Major Berg. We sure are lucky you were close enough to call. You’ve been a real godsend.”

Her smile. Sophie had inherited more than her height from Nanny. She also got her smile.

“Glad to help, ma’am. I’ve fixed your lock well enough for the house to be closed off again,” not that the lock had stopped anyone tonight, “but you’ll want to replace it. You should consider an alarm of some sort, too.”

“I could,” Sophie said noncommittally.

Because she didn’t see the need? Or was there some other reason? He studied her for clues, some sense of what was going on inside her head, worried as hell about a woman who wasn’t even his to worry about. Sophie stood beside him, her curtain of hair shielding her face. She fidgeted with Brice’s project, something resembling a cross between an ecosystem and a swamp monster.

He dropped a loose pipe cleaner into the bowl with the other arts and crafts supplies. “Or you could stay with my sister until your place is locked down tighter. Madison has plenty of room
and
a security system.”

“Thanks, but we’re good. I don’t think anyone’s coming back tonight, and I’ll take care of securing the house this afternoon.” Sophie pushed the school project aside. “Nanny will be here to supervise.”

He backed away from the table. “Okay then. Don’t hesitate to call.”

“Thank you again. I hope I didn’t make things too difficult for you to work.” Her eyes went wide. “You aren’t on crew rest, are you?”

Her questions in court rolled over him, the way she’d questioned his professional reputation, insinuated he might be lying. His jaw flexed. “No crew rest. And if I had been, then the flight would have been canceled. That’s how we do things.”

“Of course.” Sophie folded her arms over her chest. “I’m glad I didn’t wreck your schedule.”

She’d wrecked a lot more in his life than robbing him of a few hours’ sleep. He’d fought the attraction to her for so long, he’d thought he had it under control. Wrong. The feelings had just been piling on top of each other, waiting for just the right time to blindside him.

Her touch affected him. Damn it,
she
affected him, a woman who was hell-bent on taking down his squadron.

He needed to get the hell out of this house.

*    *    *

Sophie stuck her hand under the faucet, trying to soak the splinters free. The lingering sensation of David’s touch stung more than the slivers of wood.

Still, having him here had helped, something she didn’t like to admit. The break-in unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.

He’d handled the immediate crisis, but she couldn’t afford to let herself depend on him for anything long term. Too many other worries crowded her life. Such as how would she afford to have new locks installed? Her stretched budget already screeched in protest over a trip
for burgers. But she was trying so hard to hang on to the house to give her son stability.

Nanny bustled around the kitchen with all the subtlety of a freight train. Her wind suit whistled a friction tune. People who saw her grandmother for the first time might mistake her as someone frail and elderly. For two seconds.

How could anyone have this much energy in the middle of the night?

Nanny held Sophie’s hand over the sink and poured peroxide over all the splinter wounds. Sophie relinquished control to her grandmother, not that she really had another choice. Nanny had been her one stable port in a life full of turmoil, her mother figure for all intents and purposes, since Sophie’s father and mother had never married. The result of a backseat teenage tangle, Sophie had grown up with her father and his parents. She considered herself lucky to have had them.

“Nanny, would you like for us to go to a hotel?” She stifled a wince as her grandmother pushed out the largest splinter. “I want you to feel safe.”