Love 'Em: A Bad Boy Romance (30 page)

That thought steals my smile. I roll over and bury my face
in his chest.

He rubs lazy circles on my back. His kiss finds my crown.
“You never mentioned what I said earlier.”

“What did you say?”

“I asked if you were afraid you’d fall for me.”

“Oh, that. Sorry. I was distracted by the vomit shooting
into the back of my throat at the time.”

He lets out a huff. “Thanks. Glad to know you were so thrilled
when I told you I love you.”

I pull out of his hold and sit up. “You didn’t say that. You
don’t love me. Don’t say that. Don’t
do
that.”

He rolls away and turns on the lamp. “Too late. I just did
and I do. And I will. And you can’t stop me.”

I bury my face in my hands, slumping. “No. You don’t. I’m
not sure what happened that makes you think you do. But, seriously, don’t go
there. I don’t want you to.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.” He pushes my knee with his
knuckles, grinning. “You aren’t the boss of me.”

I let my legs dangle off the side of the bed. Elbows on
knees, chin in my palms, I expel a long, slow breath. “Maybe we should just
stop this now. I’m not sure we should see each other anymore.”

His arms come around my waist, pulling me backward. “You
don’t mean that, Mo. Tell me you don’t mean that.”

“I can’t fall in love, Danny—not with you.” My heart calls
me a liar. My brain agrees. But the walls I’ve built to protect myself, they bump
shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm, standing their tallest to keep me safe. My
spirit huddles in their shadow.

CH. ELEVEN

My phone vibrates as I pull up to the curb. I check the display.
Rachel. Sweet.

Ah, crap.

I swipe my finger across the screen. “Hey, you, how’s Africa?”

“Forget Africa. You and Danny, huh?”

My shoulders drop. “You talked to him.”

“He
is
my brother. I can’t believe this.”

The tempest in my stomach intensifies. “Are you mad? I’m
sorry. There’s probably some rule about best friends’ brothers or something”

“Nah. I don’t care about
that
. Heck, Mo, you’ve had a
crush on him forever; it’s about time.”

I pull the phone away from my ear and grimace at the photo
of her on my screen. “How’d you know?”

“Duh. I’m your best friend. Best friends know these things.”

“Then what can’t you believe?”

Her laughter fills my head. “That you’ve got him so wound
up. I mean, this is
Danny
. He’s the worst manwhore I know. And he’s
twisting in the wind, wondering how he can make you fall in love with him. You
are one sly fox, Mo. I’m completely impressed.”

Sly? Impressed? The giant pliers clamped around my lungs
tighten.

Besides—“Wait. How do you know about Danny’s women?”

She lets out an exasperated sound. “Mo. I love my brother,
and I don’t talk about it, plus I try to think the best of him—but I’m not blind
or stupid.”

“Rach, look—he’s just being like that because I’m a
challenge. He’ll lose interest as soon as he thinks he’s got me.”

Silence.

More silence.

I check the screen; the counter for our call is still
ticking off time. “Rach? Did we get disconnected?”

“So, give him what he wants. You might be surprised, Mo.
Maybe he’s really in love with you.”

I rub the crease between my eyebrows. “I doubt it. And I
can’t, Rach. I’m sorry. I—I just don’t think I can do that. Danny is every
wrong guy I should never love all rolled into one muscular package of pain. I
can’t do that to myself.”

Her sigh comes through the phone. “Yeah. I know what you
mean. I just…have you ever thought he may not be that way with you? Perhaps he
was meant for you, and the reason he’s never settled with any other girl is
because they were all the
wrong
girls?”

A flutter in my chest makes me catch my breath. No. I can’t
be pulled into that line of thinking. “I love you, Rachel. I do. And I’ll
always care about Danny, but I can’t take that kind of chance. I can’t trust
him that deeply. I wish I could, but…”

“I get it, Mo. Don’t worry. I still love you. I just wish
you’d open up a little. I’d think love would be worth the risk.”

“I’m not so sure. Look, I’ve got to go. I hope the rest of
your trip is amazing. Call when you can.”

“Okay. Take care, Mo. Think about what I said.”

“I’ll do that. Bye.”

I slam my head against the headrest. Why does this have to
be so hard? Why can’t I just meet a really nice guy—a genuinely nice guy? Why can’t
Danny be that guy?

I head into the shelter early. The thing in the back of my
mind won’t let me loose. If Dad put cameras around the guest house, who’s to
say he hasn’t done the same thing in other places? All those girls at the
shelter? That’s a hell of a temptation for a pervert looking for his next fix.

My gut clenches as I go to the break room. I stand on a
chair and lift one of the ceiling tiles. Using the flashlight I snagged from my
car, I take a look for any out of place equipment. None.

A bit of the tension holding my shoulders tight releases.

Next, the sleeping quarters. Crap. I’m going to need a
reason to be in there for very long. I grab a broom from the janitorial closet.

I get lucky and make it all the way into the open bay
sleeping area without being seen. My breath whooshes out. No one in sight.
Still, best hurry.

Standing on the foot of the bed in the middle of the room, I
use the broom handle to jab until the light bulb bursts. Sparks fly, and so do
I—out the door and around the corner. I lean against the wall, chest heaving.

I slip further into the building, whistling as though
nothing is out of the ordinary. Luckily, most of these ladies have seen me
enough that I’m not much of a novelty any more. I pull the same trick in the
ladies’ room as I did in the dorm.

Light bulb bash and run.

Once I get checked in for my shift in the childcare center,
it doesn’t take long for Cindy to poke her head in the door. “Hey, Danny?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you please change some light bulbs for us?”

“Sure thing.” I put Kelvin down off my lap and hand him the
book I was reading to him. “Back in a few minutes, buddy.”

I put out the yellow signs that let the ladies know not to
come into the bathroom. I set the four-foot ladder in place and climb up with
the fluorescent bulb. Once up there, I check the entire fixture.

Damn it.

Affixed to the upper part of the housing, a small black
device points over the tops of the stalls. Almost impossible to see from below.
I clench my jaw and take slow breaths through my nose. I yank loose the camera,
stuffing it into the tool box balanced on the top of the ladder.

The man has no boundaries.

Protect his ministry my ass.

I move to the next light and remove the second camera
installed in the same fashion.

By the time I’m finished in the sleeping bay, I’ve got seven
cameras and an ache in the pit of my stomach for what I have to do next. All I
can do is pray that Mom doesn’t lose her shit and Rachel doesn’t suffer too
much.

I go to Cindy’s office to show her what I’ve found. She’s
not here.

“Terri?”

Cindy’s assistant doesn’t even look up from the report she’s
working on. “Yes?”

“Is Cindy gone for the day?”

“Until next Wednesday. Her sister’s having a baby; she’s
going to Phoenix to help out.”

Shit. “Okay. Thanks.”

Guess I’ll just have to sit on it for a few days. At least
the cameras are down.

Sick fucker.

Pushing through the door into the child care center, my gaze
drifts around the room. I’m not looking for Danny. Am I?

No. Definitely not.

The hair on the back of my neck prickles. He’s snuck up on
me.

Danny leans in and whispers, “Thought you’d never get here.”

I try not to smile. Fail.

He shoves a toddler into my hands. “Here, this one had a
blow out. It’s your turn.”

Nice.

“Thanks for saving him for me.” I grimace and make a beeline
for the changing station.

I lay Jay Jay on the table. He grabs his tiny feet and pulls
them to his chest, grinning like he’s done something amazing.

I smile down on him. “Yes. You did do something amazing…something
amazingly stinky.”

The toddler giggles as I pull his shorts down and open the
diaper.

The smell. Oh my gosh. I clench my teeth as nausea spills
into my gut. I grab the bin at the end of the table and yank the lid off. With
one hand on Jay Jay’s tummy to keep him in place, I double over the trashcan, and
my lunch dumps into the black bag.

Danny’s warm hand slides up my back. “You okay? It’s bad, but
I didn’t know it’d make you upchuck. Here, I’ll clean Jay Jay up. You go take
care of you. I thought you were over that bug?”

I shrug, pump a squirt of hand sanitizer into my palm, and
rush to the bathroom. My stomach lurches again about the time I hit the lock on
the door. I catch most of the mess in my hands; the rest splashes at my feet.

Ham and cheese doesn’t taste very good the second time around.

A knock is followed by the handle jiggling. “Mo? Let me in,
babe.”

I swipe the back of my wrist across my mouth. “I’ll be all
right.”

“Open up. I brought you some water.”

“Go help with the kids. I’ll be done in a few.” I rinse my
face at the sink. I don’t think I’m running a fever.

Another knock on the door. I snap. “I said I’ll be out in a
minute. Jeez!”

“It’s Rhonda. Just checking on you. Danny said he thinks you
might need to go home. He’s going to give you a ride. I called Donna. She’ll be
here in a few minutes, so don’t worry about anything.”

“No. I’m okay now.” As soon as my words are out another bout
of nausea seizes me.

When I finish barfing, Rhonda calls through the door, “Just go
home and get some rest. If you’re contagious we don’t all want it. Nothing like
a room full of puking two-year-olds to ruin a day.”

I wilt. “Fine.”

* * *

With one hand on my knee and the other on the wheel, Danny
drives while throwing looks my way.

Though he hasn’t said anything, I can almost hear the wheels
turning.

Finally, I ask, “What, already? Just say it.”

He looks at the road, like he wasn’t looking at me at all.
Then those green eyes come back to mine.

I cock an eyebrow. “Well?”

His knuckles go white on his steering wheel as he flexes his
hands. “Well. I was curious. You haven’t had your period.”

My…? “What? You’re keeping track of my menstrual cycle?”

“No. I just, I mean, since we first—you know—made love, you
haven’t had one. Maybe the puking isn’t a virus.”

My chest freezes and the cold spreads to the rest of me. I
count back. Shit.

Danny glances my way again.

“Well, there were a few days when you first started at the
center we weren’t together. I’m fine. Not pregnant. You don’t need to worry, Danny.
I’m not out to trap you or whatever it is you’re thinking.”

His brow wrinkles. “What? Trap me? No. I was just—aw, fuck
it. Good. Glad you aren’t prego.”