Книга - Boss On Notice

Boss On Notice
Janet Lee Nye


He can't trust himself…Josh Sanders just wanted to help. After all, Mickie Phillips is a struggling single mom who needs a job...and a friend. Fortunately, her administrative skills are perfect for the new branch he’s running of the Cleaning Crew—a company— of guys who clean houses. The downside? Mickie's a petite, blue-eyed temptation he definitely needs to resist.Their arrangement was not supposed to include simmering attraction—or deeper, decidedly unprofessional feelings. But Josh's traumatic past has convinced him he can never be the man Mickie needs. Trust will only expose them to the most dangerous thing of all...love.







He can’t trust himself...

Josh Sanders just wanted to help. After all, Mickie Phillips is a struggling single mom who needs a job...and a friend. Fortunately, her administrative skills are perfect for the new branch he’s running of the Cleaning Crew—a company of guys who clean houses. The downside? Mickie’s a petite, blue-eyed temptation he definitely needs to resist.

Their arrangement was not supposed to include simmering attraction—or deeper, decidedly unprofessional feelings. But Josh’s traumatic past has convinced him he can never be the man Mickie needs. Trust will only expose them to the most dangerous thing of all...love.


Her fingers closed lightly around his biceps and traced down his arm to his hand.

“We haven’t known each other very long, but I think of you as a friend, Josh. You’ve helped me so much. I just want you to know that if there’s anything I can do to help you, I’m here.”

Josh pulled her close so she wouldn’t see the sudden flood of emotion he felt. She had no idea. If he told her the truth, she would go—should go—running far away. “Thank you,” he managed to say.

“I mean it.” Mickie’s words vibrated against his chest. The feel of a warm body against his. The scent of her hair. The touch of her hands as they skimmed around his waist to link together, holding him in place. For a moment, all the confusion and regret and pain faded away. Being with her felt like stepping out of a shrieking wind and into a quiet moment of peace.

“I know,” he whispered in her ear. “Thank you.”

She leaned back to look up at him. He couldn’t meet her gaze. Instead he focused on her lips. Pink. The lower lip fuller than the top. Pretty. He wondered what it would be like to kiss them.

“Josh,” she said.

He kissed her.

Whatever she wanted to say, he didn’t want to hear.


Dear Reader (#u75a50be8-f610-5f06-9e36-19a6d09ba0e7),

Welcome back to The Cleaning Crew! We’ll be leaving beautiful Charleston to follow Josh to Columbia, SC, where he is setting up a new Crew. DeShawn is there to help him get the new branch up and running.

I was eager to write Josh’s story because he is, in many ways, much more damaged than Sadie. He’s just better at hiding it. In spite of everything, he’s a nice guy and deserves his happily-ever-after.

Mickie is the young single mother next door. She has secrets of her own. She and I also have one big thing in common: nursing school. She is clinging to the hope that once she becomes a nurse, she can stop running from her past and provide a good life for her son. Attending nursing school is extremely stressful and I was able to share some of my insane study/coping mechanisms with her. Hint: index cards.

It was a tall assignment to get Josh, who is terrified of family and commitment, and Mickie, who has serious trust issues and comes with a toddler, together. They are both rather mule-headed but also people with a lot of love to give. They just need to learn to accept love.

I hope you enjoy their journey.

Janet Lee Nye


Boss on Notice

Janet Lee Nye






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


JANET LEE NYE is a writer by day and a neonatal nurse by night. She lives in Charleston, SC, with her fella and her felines. She spends too much time on Twitter and too little time on housework and has no plans to remedy this.


In dedication to all the romance writers who helped me, cheered me on, gave me critiques. I’m not going to name names because every person I talked to, every workshop I attended, every book I read, gave me a little bit of knowledge and insight. Thank you all.


Contents

Cover (#uaa9fddab-462c-5056-9777-d0e61119d483)

Back Cover Text (#u50ea144a-d9de-5915-a2bc-18ad58882f98)

Introduction (#ud80ce82e-6d10-5af9-91a5-a73ba977979f)

Dear Reader (#ucea01af9-3925-5583-a3dc-29ecf86331e9)

Title Page (#u92479640-3de1-58f3-a6a5-5fed191d0e34)

About the Author (#u2adca5a0-ba12-52ec-9f66-466ed58f7c56)

Dedication (#u4c630c19-ede5-5b28-9bee-8ed38ea85b84)

CHAPTER ONE (#u1f719778-6eeb-5cff-800e-01dc43522bd0)

CHAPTER TWO (#ud4a0c53f-7f07-5747-885c-bea58321aa19)

CHAPTER THREE (#ud7b97780-180f-5c8e-9ea4-80bde4b53b17)

CHAPTER FOUR (#u6308f8c2-5354-5d05-b9e7-eea64ba2428b)

CHAPTER FIVE (#u1653419c-e112-5eb4-9b5b-78e8b91b8606)

CHAPTER SIX (#u47d29823-a7de-5476-afca-a4785cb4152d)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#u75a50be8-f610-5f06-9e36-19a6d09ba0e7)

THERE WAS A kid in his kitchen. Not a regular kid but a baby-size kid. Josh stopped in the doorway and stared at him. The kid, in blue shorts and a white shirt with a sailboat on the front, stood a few feet from the sliding glass door that led to the patio. He was rubbing the bottom of his nose with the back of a fat little hand, staring at his own reflection in the glass and scratching his bottom with the other hand.

“Uh...um, hey? Who are you?”

The kid’s eyes opened wide as he turned to look at Josh. He pulled the hand away from his nose and a string of snot followed, stretching long and low, before dripping down onto the floor. The kid stood there, mouth moving, looking too startled to speak. Josh put his hands up like, “okay, okay, it’s good, we’ll figure this out,” but it was too late. The kid’s face crumpled into something that resembled a boiled troll’s seconds before an ungodly screeching wail began.

What the hell? This kid could give an ambulance siren some competition. Tears began to run down his face and he shuffled his feet in a kind of awkward dance.

“Hey. Hey. It’s okay,” Josh said, taking a step forward and extending a hand, not knowing if he was supposed to extend the hand. “Sorry. You scared the sh—You scared me.” He gave his best shot at a friendly smile.

How it was possible for the screech to get louder, Josh did not know, but, yep, the volume shot straight from ambulance siren to aircraft-taking-off territory. Josh glanced around the small apartment. He’d left the sliding glass door to the back patio open to air out the kitchen after he’d accidentally set fire to a bag of microwave popcorn. The screen had been pushed open. The kid had wandered in. Which meant that whoever the kid belonged to was out there, somewhere. Okay, this was a problem with a solution.

“Hey, come on,” he said. “Let’s find your mom.”

Josh took a few steps in the direction of the door but the kid didn’t follow. Nope. Not that easy. What the kid did was fall over on his butt and...get louder? Was that even possible? Yes, it was.

Josh started to cover his ears, then forced himself to let his hands fall back to his sides. How did parents deal with this? He tried a smile. Made what he hoped was a comical shrug. What did they do on Sesame Street? There had to be some kind of kid code, a universal sign for “all is cool,” but hell if he knew it. “Where’s your momma, little guy?”

The shriek seemed to have maxed out, but now there was a bubble of snot expanding, expanding...from one of the kid’s nostrils. At the point Josh thought surely it was going to pop, the snot bubble shrank back down when the kid remembered to breathe. Then, it began to grow again. Okay, really? The thing about snot bubbles was—How do you look away? Josh felt his own face going red. A train wreck of a house he could handle. That was all in a day’s work. Nasty grout that needed scouring, a floor that hadn’t been mopped in months, greasy kitchen grime—all that he could put right with or without the rest of the Crew. But a wailing kid? There were people for that. Parents. Again, he gave it a try. “Hey, little guy, your mom? Where?” Nope, not going to be that easy apparently.

He crossed the kitchen, put his hands under the kid’s armpits and lifted. He turned his face to the side so he wouldn’t get puked on and could at least spare one eardrum. That snot bubble was an issue, too, now about a big as a bubble in a Hubba Bubba gum ad. He slid the screen door to the side and walked outside holding the kid as far from himself as possible. Wasn’t there a character in an X-Men movie that could knock down brick walls with his superpowered scream? This kid could be that guy.

He crossed the small concrete patio and stepped out into the grass, already feeling the weight of the kid in his shoulders. He looked both ways. There were four apartments lined up. Two duplexes and a parched strip of St. Augustine grass between the two buildings. What he did not see was anyone that could help.

“Hello?” he said.

Now the kid was kicking his legs and wiggling in Josh’s grip. He caught a couple of baby-shoe kicks in the ribs. Geez, put this kid in martial arts, he’d be dangerous.

“Ian?”

Josh turned toward the sound of the voice. Frantic. Female. Mom? Could this be Mom? Ian screamed and wiggled and blew more snot bubbles. Please, God, let that be his mother. A woman snatched the baby from his hands. She sank down into the grass, clutching the baby. Petite, young, blonde. When she looked up at him, as if still wondering what to think, he saw the panic in her eyes. Blue eyes, pupils wide, shining with tears.

“Oh, my God, Ian. Ian, baby. Don’t ever scare Mommy like that ever again.”

She hugged him and kissed his face. Josh wanted to look away when the snot bubble popped right on Mom’s cheek, but if she even noticed, there was no sign of it. Okay, yeah, maybe moms don’t care, but gross! Josh shifted his feet in the grass and stuffed his hands in his back pockets. “Uh. Sorry. The sliding glass door, on my patio, it was open, he wandered in. I think I scared him.”

She stood, keeping the boy clutched tight against her. “He... Wait, what? Oh, God.” She looked at the boy, shook her head and then looked back at Josh. Tears welled at the bottom of her eyes. She ran a hand through her hair, brushing it back, and let out a great big breath. “Thank you. Oh, Ian. Don’t do... Don’t scare me like...” She cleared her throat, turned her head, seemed to compose herself. “I didn’t realize our back door was unlocked,” she said. “I went in the other room for one second and...” Her face went pale and Josh could see in her eyes all of the nightmare scenarios that were playing out in her head. She hugged Ian to her. “Thank you. He’s not getting out of my sight again.” She looked at Ian. “No, sir, you are not.”

“At least now I know where to return him. I’m Josh, by the way. Josh Sanders.”

She jiggled the baby to her hip and held out a free hand. “Mickie Phillips. Nice to meet you.”

“Moving in?” He tried to look her over with being too obvious about it. Her laser focus on the child in her arms helped in this regard. She was busy finger-brushing his messy hair and cleaning the snot off his cheek—finally!—with a tissue that seemed to have materialized out of thin air. Was that some kind of secret mom power? She looked like she might be halfway through her twenties. Slim, but he could see the strength in her, in the way she held that boy. Good cheekbones, cute nose. Blond hair and ice-blue eyes. Dang. She looked like she could have some Viking shieldmaiden in her gene pool. There was a slight trace of an accent he couldn’t place, but it wasn’t Southern.

“Yeah.”

“Welcome to the neighborhood. Let me know if you ever need anything.”

He said it as he was already turning around and starting to walk back to his place. The spot on his arm where her hand had brushed him tingled with a little rush of heat. Cute little blonde? Maybe. Cute little blonde with a baby? Oh, hell no. He and babies did not mix. Would not.

Once he got back to his place, he slid the glass door shut and made sure to lock it behind him. He washed his hands at the kitchen sink in case there were any lingering baby germs.

Well, that had sure been something. He snagged a paper towel, wiped his hands dry. Ice-blue eyes... He glanced toward the patio. Nope. Popped open the fridge but surprisingly, nothing had magically appeared there that could be properly considered food. Jars of mustard, mayo. Some bologna maybe a smidge past sketchy. Bottles of water. Why was he hungry all of a sudden? Blonde. Blue eyes. He scooped up his motorcycle helmet and made a beeline for the door.

The thing about it was that Columbia didn’t feel like home yet. He felt like a visitor. Still felt like it was all temporary. He missed Charleston more than he’d thought he would. He missed Sadie and the guys. He pulled the cover off his restored ’68 Harley Sportster. So, he’d kill a couple of hours exploring the town, see if he could work this out. Maybe pick up a few groceries—or, let’s be real here, take-out—and come back to get ready for the next day.

As the bike rumbled out of the small parking lot to the street, he caught a glimpse of blond hair turning the corner. He turned in that direction. Mickie. She was walking briskly down the street, pushing the baby in a stroller. He lifted a hand as he rode by, but she didn’t see him. Maybe that was okay. Maybe that was better. He gunned the accelerator, hit the road, twisted and turned through the maze that was this strange new place.

Blond hair, blue eyes, hey, come on. Geez. Look around you. USC. The statehouse. Liberty Tap Room and UFO, like he’d ever get up and sing karaoke. At least having a bike meant he could find parking somewhere, maybe. That was different from downtown Charleston. And even this was only the tight little downtown area. Never mind all the outlying areas he hadn’t ventured out into yet.

This was a much bigger city, sprawling out into a confusing jumble of suburbs. The move had come sooner than expected. Josh was running the expansion of Sadie’s all-male cleaning company, the Cleaning Crew. The plan had been to run it out of Charleston for several months before committing to a move. But the client list had grown more quickly than expected. He was gaining more respect for what Sadie had built. Between hiring employees and making sure clients understood that house cleaning was the only service provided, he was currently only one of two guys doing the cleaning. Add in all the paperwork and he was pretty sure Sadie was a freaking genius and a saint for never having throttled anyone, at least not anyone that Josh knew of.

He rode until he remembered that he was hungry. That popcorn was supposed to have been breakfast. Hey, the Five Points shopping district was straight ahead. Starbucks to satisfy the immediate urge for caffeine and something solid, maybe a bagel, with a follow-up at the Food Lion for some grown-up shopping. He did exactly that. After he finished, the grocery store was right there.

He grabbed as much as he could fit in the saddlebags on the bike and headed home. The ride home put his head straight. That was a lot easier now that there was food in his stomach. When he turned into the duplex, he saw her again.

Mickie. She was pushing the stroller. A bulging backpack was strung across her shoulders, while shopping bags dangled from the stroller handles and a cardboard box balanced on top of the handles. Wait, why? Moving in like that? From where?

He shook his head as he pulled around back, parking the bike on his patio. None of your business, man. You need to get into those applications. Find some guys.

A couple of hours later, there she was again, pushing the baby stroller, loaded down with shopping bags. What was she going back and forth for? Didn’t she have a car? Could she only carry small bits at a time? Kind of like him and his saddlebags when he wasn’t driving the SUV? He stepped out on the front porch.

“Do you need some help?” he asked.

Her cheeks were pink and there was a faint sheen of perspiration on her forehead. It was well over 90 degrees. Hello, South Carolina summer. The baby...boy—wasn’t there another word? Toddler!—looked toasty, also.

“No. I’m fine.” There was slight emphasis on the fine. A back off emphasis.

He hesitated. Because she clearly wasn’t fine. She was hauling stuff with a baby in this heat. That didn’t seem to be fine to him. He shrugged. Not his problem. “Okay. But if you need help, I’m right here. Ask.”

She nodded as she pushed the stroller over her doorstep and closed the door. Whatever. I offered. A minute later, he heard her door open and close again. He frowned at the sight out his front window. She was heading off again, empty backpack and empty stroller. Well, the kid was still in there. He stood there for a long minute. She doesn’t want your help, dude. Let it go. He let it go.

Until she repeated the process. He opened his front door again. “Hey. Wait up.”

She stopped on the sidewalk and turned back to him. “I’ve got this.”

“I’m sure you do. But I’ve got an SUV. Might cut down on the number of trips you have to make.”

She let go of the stroller to lift her hair off her neck as she contemplated him. He hated that his offer of help had to be considered with such a concern for safety, but that was the world today. “I told you my name. I’m Josh Sanders. I can call references for you right now. I want to help. I can’t stand watching you run back and forth in this heat with the little guy.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. “See, I’ll call my boss. Sadie Martin.” He tapped through, hoping Sadie would answer. She did. He put the call on speaker and moved closer to Mickie.

“Hey, Josh, what’s up?” Sadie asked. He couldn’t get over how happy and relaxed she sounded. Love was agreeing with her.

“Hey. Listen, I’ve got my new neighbor Mickie here and she needs some help moving her stuff. Tell her I’m a good guy.”

“He’s a great guy, Mickie. Let him help. Don’t let him cook for you, but let him help you move heavy things.”

Mickie smiled but was still shaking her head. “You could be anyone,” she said.

“But I’m not,” Sadie said through the speaker. “I’m Sadie Martin. I own the Cleaning Crew down in Charleston. Josh is my number-one guy. He’s up there getting our second location started. You can look us up online. He was the only person I trusted on this planet to do that for me. Let him help you move some boxes.”

“I really do have an SUV,” Josh said. “If you have a car seat, we can put it in there and be done in, what? One or two trips?”

She looked down at Ian and then up at the sun. It was well past noon. She pressed her lips together. A sigh flowed out of her. “Okay,” she said.

He would have been relieved if not for the tone of her voice. The way she said it, it sounded as if she’d failed at something.


CHAPTER TWO (#u75a50be8-f610-5f06-9e36-19a6d09ba0e7)

SHE COULD NOT believe she was doing this. Getting in a car with a strange man. Worse, putting her baby in a car with a stranger. She looked at him, looked him right in the eyes, trying to gauge if she could trust him. He didn’t try to convince her. He held her eye contact and gave her a smile that seemed to say “I understand.”

They made it happen. Somehow, awkwardly. She wrestled the car seat in place in the backseat. Once she had it in and secured—even tugged on the seat a few times to make sure it was strapped in correctly—she lifted Ian out of the stroller. “Up, big man,” she said and Ian climbed in, squirming around as she buckled him.

“Go! Go! Go!” Ian said. He slapped both hands together each time he said it.

“Yeah, we’re gonna go, go, go,” Mickie muttered under her breath as she shut the back door and climbed up front into the passenger’s seat. Hopefully not to our most gruesome end.

Josh smiled at her from the driver’s seat. “All set?”

“Sure.” She leaned against the door and closed her eyes. Tired. She was so damn tired. Of every little thing being an obstacle. Of keeping a smiling face and happy voice for Ian. Of hiding the tears and her fears from him. None of this was his fault. The car didn’t move and she opened her eyes.

“Where are we going?”

“Oh. Yeah. That’d help, huh? That garage a little ways down on Devine Street. Next to the Jiffy Lube?”

He dropped the car in Drive and pulled out into the light Sunday traffic. “You lived at the garage?”

“No. My car is at the garage.”

Actually, her car was dead. She should have been grateful that it decided to pop its transmission out onto the road so close to her new place, but still...this was the new place that she couldn’t afford anymore since the job she’d counted on had crapped out. Then the car crapped out. She rubbed her eyes. It’ll be okay. You have some left in savings. The apartment is on the bus line. You’ll find another job. She twisted in her seat to look at Ian. He was passed out. Poor baby. This guy must think she was the worst mother in the world, dragging him around in the heat.

“How old is he?” Josh asked.

She looked over at Josh, this strange man. Cute, but really? From the way he’d carried Ian out of his apartment that morning, a sight she’d giggled long and hard over once her fright had diminished, she knew he had zero to no experience with children. Good-looking, with curly, black hair, and a bit shaggy, but that was okay. Blue eyes. No rings on his fingers, she could see that as he held the steering wheel. And they were nice hands. Strong-looking hands. She looked away. “Almost two,” she said.

“Oh.”

Silence followed. So much silence that when he hit the turn signal, it startled her. “Why did you ask?” she asked as they pulled into the garage’s parking lot. She pointed to her poor dead car, parked to the side.

He shrugged. “Aren’t you supposed to ask things like that about people’s kids?”

Instead of answering, she unhooked her seat belt and opened the door. She glanced back at Ian. He was still sleeping. Good.

“I’ll leave the AC running,” Josh said. He pulled the parking brake, slid out, popped open the back hatch.

Mickie frowned. Part of her was screaming to not leave Ian alone in a running car, but what else could she do? She left her door open just in case she had to jump in and save him. Her eyes scanned the parking lot as she walked to her car and unlocked the back door and the trunk. Everything she owned in the world was crammed in there. Well, everything that would fit anyway. She’d left some furniture behind. Well, hey, it wasn’t like it had been Queen Anne antiques. Mostly Wal-Mart and sidewalk-salvage, chipboard, snap-together stuff. Hey, you could afford what you could afford. She reached into the backseat and hauled out a box. She’d replace it. Right. With the money from the job that you, oh, yeah, no longer have.

“All of it?” Josh asked as he started moving boxes from the trunk of her car to his SUV.

“Yeah, everything that will fit. Guy here told me he was having the car hauled to the junkyard in the morning whether I had my stuff out or not.”

“What a dick. Seriously?”

She nodded and swallowed down the lump in her throat. Yeah, the guy had been a dick. But he’d given her two hundred dollars for the corpse of her car and a day to get her stuff out. She could sleep on the floor. She could eat ramen noodles. But Ian needed real food and the money, well, that would get it for him. It took a depressingly short amount of time to move everything out of the car.

“Where’s your furniture?” Josh asked as they got back in his car.

She felt her cheeks burn hot. “It’s coming,” she lied. There was nothing coming. She couldn’t afford to rent a U-Haul. She certainly couldn’t afford a moving company. It wasn’t like they were family heirlooms. She hoped the next tenants would have use of it, maybe for kindling in the fireplace when winter began to make its way south.

She and Josh didn’t talk at all on the ride back to the apartment. That was actually something Mickie was very grateful for. She was exhausted and worried and seemed to be constantly on the edge of tears. She needed to get settled and get some sleep and regroup. She’d be fine. She needed a moment.

“Hey,” he said.

She jumped at the soft whisper and the gentle touch on her arm. The seat belt tightened against her. Damn. She’d fallen asleep? In a strange car? With a strange man? And her baby in the back? She twisted to look over her shoulder. Ian was still asleep. Josh had driven across the grass and had backed the SUV up to her front door.

“Wow,” she said. “Oh, my God. Sorry. Must be my naptime, too.”

She blew out a breath, got herself together. Wow.

Then she climbed out and got the car seat unhooked, not even bothering to take out Ian. She manhandled the entire thing out of the SUV with him in it. Josh was there and he took it in one hand. “I’ve got it. Open the door and you can get him settled. I’ll bring all the stuff in for you.”

“You don’t have to. I can get it. I’ll let you know when I’m done and you can move the car back.”

He stayed on the front porch, leaning in to put the car seat inside the front door. “Now, that isn’t going to happen. But if you don’t want me inside, I’ll move things to the porch and you can take them from there.”

She opened to her mouth to protest. Stop it. Stop it, Mickie. He’s being a normal nice guy. Stop treating everyone like the enemy. “I’m sorry to be so...” So what? She didn’t know. Scared? Bitchy? Suspicious?

“Cautious? Don’t worry about it. I understand.”

He walked off and opened the hatch. Mickie watched for a moment the way that the muscles of his back shifted against the fabric of his T-shirt, how his biceps flexed as he lifted boxes. A flutter of warm appreciation for a gorgeous male body tried to come to life deep in her belly. She turned to Ian, snorting out a hard laugh at her stupidity. Because a man would make all this better. Right. That’s what got you into this mess, Mickie. A good-looking, sweet-talking, nice-acting man.

JOSH MOVED THE boxes to the porch and let Mickie carry them deeper into the apartment. Most of the boxes looked old, like they’d been used and reused and kept together with duct tape. She was cagey about letting him in and he could understand that. She was a young mother. Living alone, it seemed. Well, alone except for Ian. Which had to make it even more difficult. There was nothing he could do or say to put her more at ease other than try not to make it worse.

As he set the last of the boxes down inside the door, she came over and pushed it out of the way with her foot. He glanced inside. She’d moved them all into the empty living room. His eyes went back to her. She leaned against the door frame with one hand on the doorknob. Her khaki shorts and black T-shirt were streaked with dust. She pushed a hand through blond hair that looked like a fall of silk and looked up at him with ice-blue eyes. She was very pretty. And very young. And had a kid.

“Thank you for letting me help you,” he said. “This means I’m all caught up on my good deeds for at least a week.”

She smiled and he felt something within him warm at the sight. “Thank you for insisting. I’m sorry if I was treating you like you were a creep or something.”

“Understandable.” He stuck his hands in his back pockets as he searched for something else to say. He wanted to keep looking into those eyes, wanted to ask about those distant shield maiden genes. Where was she from, where was she going? Then, he noticed the dark smudges beneath those eyes. She’d fallen asleep on the short ride home. Tired, right. She was exhausted, and he could respect that. “Let me know if you need anything else,” he said.

Back in his own place, Josh powered up the laptop. He could still hear her moving around. Strange that he’d never noticed the sounds of the previous tenant. She was clinking glassware, opening and closing cabinets and making other assorted unpacking thumps and bumps. She seemed to be alone, not only living alone with the little guy, but also alone in the city. She’s not alone, dude, she has a baby. You know, those miniature humans that you don’t have any contact with? He shook his head. Get it together, man.

He had a lot to do tomorrow. There were three interviews for new Crew members, two client interviews and four actual cleanings to do. He skimmed through the calendar. Good. All regular cleanings, all in apartments, so that should be easy. It was a straightforward business model: hot guys cleaning house. It had worked for Sadie down in Charleston and he was here to make it happen a second time, in the state capital. He loaded the addresses into his phone and Googled them to look at the map and get a sense of the locations. His phone rang and Sadie’s name popped up on the screen.

“Did you save your damsel in distress?” she asked.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“How you doing up there?”

“Good.” He gave her a brief rundown of Crew business.

“I meant with you, Josh,” she said when he finished. “How are you doing?”

“Good. Starting to not feel lost every place I go. I found a yoga studio that seems like it isn’t just a place to go look pretty. Still looking for a dojo.”

He sat back and rubbed a hand through his curly hair. And a barbershop. He needed to find one of those. Yoga and meditation were akin to breathing. He couldn’t go without, not for long. Not if he wanted to stay himself, the self he could stand. And while he was perfectly able to practice at home, there was something about being in a class, about being pushed past his limits, that he needed. The dojo? Well, he’d been studying martial arts since he was twenty. Yoga for peace of mind and karate for discipline—the two things that kept him sane. That kept him functional.

“Is she pretty?”

“Huh?”

“Your new neighbor. Is she pretty?”

He laughed. “Now that you’re disgustingly happy in love, you want to hook up everyone you know?”

“You should try it. It’s awesomely fun.”

“She has a kid. A little kid. A baby-size kid.”

Sadie didn’t say anything but he could hear her breathe. She let out a slow sigh. “I wish I could hug you.”

“I don’t need a hug. I need some pointers on the behavior contract.”

Yeah, that. The behavior contract. The Cleaning Crew, as a business model, provided a superior cleaning service and nothing else. But Sadie had found that some clients’ understanding of this simple fact was at times fuzzy. Hot guys, right? It wasn’t surprising where some people’s minds went. A false allegation in the company’s early days had frightened her. Now she required clients and employees to sign a contract that essentially said “keep your hands to yourself.”

“What’s the problem? It’s pretty straightforward.”

“Some clients are taking it as condescending. Like we’re saying they won’t be able to control themselves around a good-looking guy or something.”

“Huh,” Sadie said. She paused for a moment. “There may be something to that. It’s not everyone, is it? Just a few here and there?”

“Yeah. I started being way more careful in how I explained it after that. It’s helped some.”

“All right. Keep me posted. If it gets to be a problem, I guess I could drive up and get them signed.”

“I guess.” But he didn’t want her to do that. If this was going to be his branch, his company to grow, then he had to find a way around this. He figured that it was the newness of the idea here in Columbia. In Charleston, the company had been established long enough that new clients knew about the contract, knew about the expectations Sadie had for them and the guys. It was still in the titillation phase here. A hot guy vacuuming your rugs? Giggle and drool. He heard Jules, Sadie’s fiancé’s niece, in the background, yelling for Sadie to come look at this right now. “I’ll figure it out. Go. Give Jules a hug from me.”


CHAPTER THREE (#u75a50be8-f610-5f06-9e36-19a6d09ba0e7)

MICKIE STARTLED AWAKE on her blanket bed on the floor. Sunlight streamed through the windows. How long had she slept? She scrambled up to her feet. More importantly, why had Ian slept so late? He usually woke her at the butt crack of dawn. She crossed the hall and found him sitting quietly on his own blanket bed with a book. Naked. She followed her nose to the dirty diaper tossed on the rug. Awesome. She added a trip to the Laundromat to her chore list for the day.

“Good morning, sunshine,” she cooed.

Ian looked up at her and smiled that goofy baby smile that always melted her heart. He held up the book. “Pat! Pat bunny!”

“We’ll pat the bunny. But first, let’s get you cleaned up, little man.”

The second order of business, after bath, book and breakfast, was to find a job. While Ian ate, Mickie sipped coffee and browsed through the local listings. Nursing school wouldn’t start for two and a half months. She’d have to rely on her savings while she was in school, but right now? Right now, she needed to work. The job that she’d had lined up—a nurses’ aide at the hospital affiliated with the nursing school—had been perfect. The pay was good, the hours were good and there had been access to the onsite day care center and valuable experience to put on a résumé. But at the last minute, the day-shift position had been changed to a night-shift position. Which wouldn’t have been a problem except the day care wasn’t offered overnight.

“Square one,” she said to Ian. “Not like we haven’t been back here before, huh, buddy?”

“One!” he shouted. He handed her a Cheerio.

“Thank you.”

“Whelk!”

Tears burned at her eyes as she watched Ian return to his breakfast. What was she doing? Dragging him willy-nilly along while she tried to get her shit together. Jumping and running at every bump in the night. She took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in her throat. This was it. Hopefully their last stop. She had two years to go and then she’d have her nursing degree. Once she had that, she’d have financial security. Right? Then they could stop. The two of them, her and Ian, they could begin to put down some roots and find some sense of normal. But first, she needed a job. And affordable day care.

She shook her head. Sitting around feeling sorry for yourself isn’t going to help a thing. Get to the Laundromat. Maybe there’d be some places along the way she could stop and put in applications.

An hour later, she was pushing the stroller out of the door, with duffel bags of laundry dangling from the handles. She had her backpack strapped on and an entirely too grumpy Ian strapped in the stroller. He didn’t want to go wash clothes. He wanted to read Pat the Bunny for the ten jillionth time. She paused to secure the swaying bags. The door of the apartment next to hers opened and a flicker of annoyance darted through her. Please don’t be Hot Guy offering to drive me again. She hated people offering to help her. It was stupid, she knew, but it made her scared. As if they could sense her vulnerability and weakness.

“All right, thanks for stopping by. I’ll let you know once the test results are back.”

She glanced over. Hot Neighbor Josh was shaking hands with a hot stranger dude. Hot Stranger Dude nodded. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

Mickie frowned at this exchange, then shook her head. None of your business. She tested the balance of the duffels and shifted the backpack.

“Hey, neighbor,” Josh called.

She tried not to look, but how could she not? He was too good-looking. That black curly hair and the blue eyes. His shoulders, his chest, his arms... He was built but he didn’t try to show it off by wearing a shirt two sizes too small for his body. She bit her bottom lip, felt it slip back into her mouth as she watched him. Those jeans. Levi’s. Straightforward workingman’s jeans. Nothing fancy. She felt warm in all the wrong places.

“Hi,” she said.

Short, sweet, to the point. Get out of here before he offers you a ride. She pushed the stroller but he met her at the sidewalk. He squatted to look at Ian.

“Hey, little man. What big adventure are you off to today? Going to break into a few more houses?”

“Go! Go! Go!” Ian shouted back.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Sorry,” she said. “Shouting seems to be the only volume he has these days.”

He stood and smiled at her. “You guys always seem to be on the go.”

“Yep. That’s us. Busy, busy, busy.”

He looked at her. Then at the duffels. Then at the street. He rubbed his jaw, the stubble there making a faint scratching noise that went straight through her. She squared her shoulders.

“Yeah. I should get back to work.”

Work. Whoa. Wait. What was it that lady had told her on the phone? He was here setting up a cleaning business. She could clean.

“You’re hiring?”

He gave her a look. A half smile. “Yeah, but...”

“Can I apply? I don’t have any experience other than cleaning my own house. But I’m a fast learner. And I’m not afraid of hard work—”

“Mickie,” he said, cutting off her babble.

“What?”

“We are an all-male cleaning company. That’s our gimmick. Good-looking guys cleaning your house.”

“Oh.” She was too disappointed to say anything else.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Nothing ventured and all. Well, I should get going.”

She could feel him watching her as she navigated down the sidewalk to the street. All male. Weren’t there, like, discrimination laws about stuff like that? She tried to get angry about it but she couldn’t seem to think around the echoes of the scrape of his fingers against the stubble. Her own fingers twitched on the stroller handles. She’d like to run a finger over that stubble.

“Oh, for the love of Pete. Stop it,” she said to herself. She took a deep breath, held her eyes shut for a second and told herself to let it go. You’ve got way bigger things to think about. Shut it down.

“Momma?” Ian was staring up at her with that curious look in his eyes. Down the street, there was the traffic, always the sound of people coming and going, on their way to work, to school, off to keep the world running. She needed to get back to being a part of that. But why, exactly?

Oh, yeah. Money. Bills. Being the grown-up.

She laughed and leaned over to look down into Ian’s dark eyes. “Your momma is crazy, baby man, you know this?”

“Go! Go! Go!”

Yeah, we’re going. Going and going and going. I hope we get there eventually.

* * *

ANOTHER DAY PASSED, and there she was again. That was the thing about living right next door to someone. Sometimes, they blended into the background. Other times...hmm. Well, Josh was still figuring that out.

He watched as Mickie pushed the stroller down the sidewalk. Yesterday he’d been about to tell her that he had a washer-dryer combo in his apartment but her back-off vibe had been so strong he thought it best to wait. Besides, he had two more applicants coming in for Cleaning Crew interviews and then he had to do three actual cleanings this afternoon by himself. One of the Charleston guys, Aaron, was coming down two days a week to help with the heavy days, but he needed to get some local, full-time help—and fast. He couldn’t keep up with the cleanings and the processing of all the new clients for too much longer. Not all on his own, at least.

He pulled up the next interview’s application. Problem was, most of the guys were thinking the job was a shortcut to getting laid. Sadie had warned him that there would be ten crap applications for every one good possibility. And, as well, there were the applications that frankly startled him. One of the guys had finished law school. Another cited boatloads of business management experience. He wondered what their stories were there. As much as he understood the need to work, he also had to take the business into consideration. You wanted someone who’d stay with the company long enough to at least get good at it. Employee turnover was expensive. That was why Sadie invested so much in providing a quality work environment for her people. Hire the right people and then treat them right. That’s return on investment.

His phone vibrated on the tabletop. Speaking of... “Hey, boss,” he answered.

“I’m sending you a present,” Sadie said.

“Oh?”

“Indeed. It should be there in a few minutes.”

He glanced at the front door. “Care to enlighten me any further?”

“Nope.”

She ended the call and he stared at the phone. “Huh.” Who was this woman with Sadie’s voice and what had she done with Sadie? Or, rather, what had Wyatt Anderson done to his hard-as-nails boss? Wyatt. He wondered how he was doing these days. That had been a time, finding out who he was and what he was up to. But he’d made things right, and Josh had to give him credit for that. He returned to the applications.

Not five minutes later, he rose to answer a knock on his front door. It was a pretty distinct knock. Firm, confident. An I’m-here-to-get-it-done kind of knock. Josh knew who owned that knock. “DeShawn!”

“Josh,” he said. The two of them bumped fists before DeShawn said, “Come on, man, give it up,” and went in for the hug. Just a quick old-friends-who-share-a-story kind of hug. They were good like that.

“Shut the hell up. Are you my present? I thought you were heading to the army.”

DeShawn had been a part of Sadie’s Crew in Charleston almost as long as they’d been the Crew. His laid-back, amiable personality had made him a client favorite. His attention to detail and ability to hustle had made him a Sadie favorite.

“I am, but I’m not insane. I’m not doing basic and officer training in Georgia in the summer. I’m yours, full-time, until the end of September.”

“Hallelujah.” Josh pulled DeShawn in for another one-armed, back-smacking hug. “This is perfect. I’ve reached a tipping point here.”

“Just tell me what you need.”

The two men sat at the dining room table that passed as Josh’s office. “I’ve got twenty clients, fifteen of which are weekly cleans. I have Aaron coming up on the weeks we’ve got all twenty due. I’m doing the every-other-week cleans by myself but it’s not leaving me enough time to screen applicants quickly enough. And I’m getting behind on my client interviews.”

“Okay. You hired anyone yet?”

“I’ve got two I think are going to do well. I don’t know how I’m going to train them.”

DeShawn leaned back. “I guess this is where I come in. Run me through the clients and I can start training as soon as they are hired.”

“Ah, man, I gotta thank Sadie. This solves all my problems. I’ll get these guys on the payroll. You can take one, I’ll take the other. That’ll free me up for interviews. I don’t know how Sadie did all this.”

“She had you. Now you got me.”

* * *

JOSH ENDED THE day feeling much less stressed than he had been that morning. He’d gotten the two best applicants hired. He and DeShawn had gone through the cleanings in half the time it would have taken him if he’d done it alone. Finally, some of the crushing anxiety lifted off him. He could almost see it float up into the air and pop like a bubble. Boom, done. Maybe he wouldn’t screw this up entirely. Maybe he could make this as successful as the Charleston location. He scrolled to the picture of Sadie scrunching up her nose at him on his phone and tapped the call icon.

“Did you like your present?”

“Yes. Thank you. It was perfect. I really appreciate you sending him my way.”

“Not a problem. You needed help. Your client base is growing, Josh. I can see it. A little more every day. This is happening, for real. You’re making it happen.”

“Yeah, it’s been crazy. I don’t know how you did it.”

“Easy. I had you, Josh. Don’t forget that. I didn’t build this alone. You were with me from the beginning. And it took us a year to reach the level you’ve reached in a month. Don’t be afraid to slow your client acceptance until you’ve got the employees trained to handle it. You are right on budget.”

“Except I’m not making a profit yet.”

“We didn’t expect that you would be. The losses aren’t crazy, though.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You know,” she said, and then laughed. The confident, caring laugh of someone who’d made it work, and was happy to help others do the same. “I actually have no idea. Lena told me. She said it’s good and not to worry. So I don’t worry. And I don’t want you to worry, either. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Well, if Princess Lena says it’s okay,” Josh said and let out a laugh of his own. It wasn’t quite laced with that same full-bodied confidence, but more of a laugh that said, “Okay, I’m getting there, but damn if I know how it’s happening.”

“Will you two give it a rest already?”

Josh laughed again. That sounded like the old Sadie and hearing that brought back the old Josh. Funny how that happened. The thing was, he didn’t really have a problem with Lena. She was Sadie’s best friend and accountant. He liked her well enough to have her manage his money. She hadn’t made him quite as rich as she’d made Sadie—hey, she’s the boss—but he was happy with his nest egg. The bickering was done more out of habit that any real animosity.

When he’d first met Sadie, she and Lena had been friends for several years. Josh was like the new baby in the family that takes the attention away from the middle child. Lena did not like sharing Sadie with him in the beginning, but they’d reached a détente of sorts over the years.

“I have something important to ask you,” Sadie said.

“What’s that?” Her pause was long enough to send a thread of worry winding through his gut. “Sades? Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just don’t want to cry. But, okay. Here goes. Will you give me away at the wedding?”

“Give you away?” He echoed the words, stunned.

“Yeah, you know. Walk me down the aisle?” Her voice dropped and wavered with the tears she didn’t want to shed. “If Abuelito was still alive, I’d ask him. You know you’re the brother of my heart, Josh. There’s no one else.”

“Of course,” he said. He looked around the room and for a second, everything felt strange, unfamiliar. Wait, what was happening here? He shook his head and brought his attention back to the phone.

He wasn’t sure why the request had hit him like it had. It was no secret that neither he nor Sadie had any real family. They were both products of the foster-care system and had been turned out on the streets at eighteen. Sadie’s half brother had found her and she was slowly building a relationship with him. But Josh was her brother of choice. Just as he thought of her as his sister. His big sister. His fingers played over the keys of his laptop and a file opened.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure.” He forced a laugh. “It’s just so grown-up. Real. Family stuff. Things we thought we’d never have.”

“I know,” she whispered. “It’s a good thing, little brother. Our family is growing. Getting stronger. And you’ll always be my brother. Always.”

His throat closed painfully. “Always.”

After he ended the call, he opened the file. His little sister. The one he’d lost. She’d been adopted away from him. At two, she was young enough, cute enough and not as scarred by their ordeal as he was. The file was pathetically small. Lists of reunification websites. His own notes. Names of social workers he’d spoken to over the years. Random bits of memory. The memories of a five-year-old.

Her name was Kim. He’d called her Kimmie. Her birthday was in the summer. Her hair was dark and curly, same as his. But he couldn’t remember what color her eyes were. Strange the things he could remember, the things that he couldn’t. Memory was the strangest thing ever, the way certain things would just be there, for no reason, and other things he couldn’t find in his head no matter how hard he searched for them. She had called him “Yoss.” He remembered that.

He clicked open another file and stared at the artist’s sketch. He looked at the picture of his memory of his sister and tried to remember. Really remember. Was this truly how she looked? Or was it just some phantom his mind had created over the years? He closed the files. Put his hand to his chin and rubbed, trying to sort it all out.

He opened a browser on his laptop and pulled up his post on the adoption-reunion website. Nothing. Same as the last three years. Next, he scanned through the new posts hoping to find anything that might give him some hope. Nothing.

He leaned back in the chair. Spun his phone around in a circle. He had a new idea, one that had just occurred to him. Spying? Investigating. Who did he know who did that? Mmm-hmm. That was the thing. He did have an ally in this search, didn’t he? Do it. Before you talk yourself out of it. A moment later, he was pacing around the small kitchen and scrolling through contact numbers.

“Wyatt Anderson.”

Resisting the urge to claim an accidental butt dial, Josh leaned against the counter. “Hey, it’s Josh. I’ve got a question for you.”

“All right.”

Wyatt sounded surprised. Probably because he was used to dealing with Sadie, who never asked anyone for anything. And if Josh was being honest with himself, he didn’t, either. He had to force the words out.

“I have a younger sister. We went into foster care together. She was adopted and I never saw her again. Can you help me find her?”

It hurt worse than he thought it would. Saying it out loud. Sadie knew. But Sadie was different. She understood. He paced around the kitchen, unable to stand still. His heart rate picked up but there was a light feeling filling his chest. It took him a moment to figure it out. He was excited. Hopeful. Things he hadn’t felt in quite a while.

“Wow. Okay. Just hold on. Let me grab a pen. All right,” Wyatt said. “Tell me everything you know. Adoptions are hard because family court records are sealed but I can check it out. See what I can come up with.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it. Whatever your normal rate is...”

“Shut up, Josh. You’re family. Now tell me everything you remember.”

After going over the details he knew, he tried to return to what he was supposed to be doing. Cleaning Crew work. Now that he had DeShawn, he could start to move forward. Get the two new guys trained. More clients. Then more guys. He worked out a schedule for the coming week and as he did, he heard a thump and a wail through the thin walls of the duplex. Ian must have wiped out.

He heard Mickie’s voice. Not the words but the smooth, lilting tones of comfort. It was a nice sound. He regretted the job thing. She was clearly in a bad spot. No job, no car and a baby. But he admired her grit. She wasn’t complaining or whining. She was just moving forward, doing the best she could.

Wait. The laundry thing.

Mickie had Ian in her arms when she opened the door. He clung to her neck and waist like a little barnacle. “Sorry, did his crying bother you?”

“What? No. I mean I heard it but that’s not why I came over. Is he okay?”

“Tried to climb the kitchen counter and learned a lesson in gravitational pull. What’s up?”

She shifted the baby on her hip and he peeked at Josh. He pointed to his forehead. It was sporting a red spot. “Owie.”

“I see that. You’ll be okay. You’re a tough guy.”

“Tuh?”

Josh flexed his arm, making the bicep pop. “Strong.”

“Stong?”

Josh laughed and looked to Mickie, who was looking at his arm with unmistakable appreciation. A warm flood of desire washed through him, cooled by a dart of fear. No way, dude, she’s got a kid. “Yeah, I was distracted this morning but I meant to tell you that I’ve got a washer-dryer set up over at my place. You’re welcome to use it. Save you some time and money.”

Her gaze met his. Gone was the soft appraisal. Now he was looking at a woman with a chip on her shoulder. She looked like Sadie did when you offered to help her with anything. Like it was the greatest of insults.

“Thank you for the offer,” she said. “But we’ve imposed on you enough.”

“You haven’t imposed at all. Listen, I’ve been here. I’ve been on my own since I was eighteen. No family. It’s hard. So, if you want to use the washer, let me know. That’s all I’m saying.”

And why was he even bothering? Obviously she didn’t want his help. Obviously he was insulting her. He lifted a hand to wave at the baby. “See you around, little man.”

“Wait.”

He turned back. Her cheeks were stained with pink and her expression held a sad mix of hurt pride and desperate need.

“Thank you,” she said.

He dipped his head. “You’re welcome.”


CHAPTER FOUR (#u75a50be8-f610-5f06-9e36-19a6d09ba0e7)

SHE WENT OVER the numbers again. Leaning back in the kitchen chair, Mickie let out a long sigh. There was nothing else to do. She’d applied at four places the day before. Two waitress jobs, a boutique and, the most desirable, a day care center. She could bring Ian to work with her. But she was running out of money and could not dip into her savings. That was to live on while in school. The rent was due and she needed groceries and more minutes on her phone.

The problem was, she discovered later while wandering the streets with a grumpy Ian in his stroller, pay phones were becoming extinct. She finally found one on the USC campus, not far from where she would be studying nursing come fall.

She plugged coins into the slot while preparing herself for the subterfuge. The ploys and the hiding and the lies that made up her life now. Already the tears were stinging. Her mother answered on the second ring.

“Hi, Auntie Em. It’s me.”

Code names. Fake addresses. Lies and constant fear.

“Dorothy! How wonderful to hear your voice. How is...everything?”

“About the same. Did you get the pictures I sent you from my vacation?”

Pictures of her grandson, whom she’d only held once. Mickie covered her face with a hand at the memory of her mother whispering in baby Ian’s ear. I love you, I love you, I love you, MeMe will always love you. And then they had fled.

“Yes. Thank you so much. Everything looked so wonderful. I love to see all the places you go. I just wish you would travel by here someday.”

“Me, too. I will. Someday. I don’t have much time, but I was wondering if you could send me some more of those greeting cards you make. Everyone just loves them.”

Greeting cards meant prepaid debit cards.

“Of course I can. How many do you need?”

“Three? Four? Whatever you can.”

“I’ll send them today. Give everyone kisses for me. I love you all.”

“I love you, too.” The word Mom slipped from her lips when she’d hung up. When it was safe. She pressed her forehead to the handset, fighting back the tears and the exhaustion and the loneliness.

“Mama. Mama. Mama.”

Ian’s chubby arms waved at her. Up. He wanted up. She scooped him from the stroller and hugged him tight. “It’s almost over, baby love. I’ll be done with school in two years and we’ll be all set. We’ll buy a real house and a car and you can have a dog. And all this will be over.”

That put some steel back in her spine. Over. Safe. Secure. Before Ian was old enough to know they’d once been this poor and desperate. Now that she had some extra money on the way, she felt some of the tension leave her.

“You ready for some lunch? Yeah? Okay. Let’s go eat.”

While Ian ate his lunch, Mickie filled the duffel bag with laundry. She considered Josh’s offer to use his. She was tired. Tired of walking. Tired of dragging things from here to there, towing Ian along behind her. She shook her head. Nope. Take it to the Laundromat. You’ve let him get too close already. She took a quick minute to gobble down her own lunch and got Ian cleaned up. He loved the Laundromat anyway. Loved watching the clothes tumble around in the front-load washers. And there were usually some older women there who showered Ian with attention. She shouldered the duffel with a sigh and strapped Ian into his stroller. If only everything didn’t have to be so hard.

* * *

MICKIE WAS HEADING down the sidewalk as Josh slowed down to turn into the driveway. Pushing the stroller with the heavy bag across her shoulders, she was going in the other direction so she didn’t see him. He parked the car and climbed out. She had that same duffel the other day when she went to the Laundromat. How much laundry did she go through? Hurrying to the sidewalk, hoping to catch her and offer the use of his washer again, he realized it wasn’t that she went through that much laundry, but that she couldn’t carry it all that far.

“Damn it,” he muttered. She had turned the corner, out of hailing distance. “Damn it.” He considered getting back in the car and going to find her. She’d had to have turned at the first corner to be out of sight so quickly. Walking back up the sidewalk, he shook his head. The way she’d reacted to his offer? If he drove around to find her now? She’d be livid. Let her have her pride, man. It’s probably all she has.

It bothered him, though. He rummaged through his supply of frozen dinners and ripped one open. None of your business. You offered. Punching the correct number of minutes on the microwave, he hit Start and leaned against the kitchen counter to wait. He couldn’t shake the image of her marching down the street, head high, pushing the kid in his stroller and that heavy bag slung across her back.

The microwave beeped and he pulled out the steaming plastic tray, cussing as the heat singed his fingertips. He put the tray on the table and grabbed a fork. He was beginning to suspect Mickie possessed more than Sadie’s reluctance to accept help. Sadie hadn’t built a successful company without an iron will and the strength to push ahead against all odds. Mickie seemed to have that same strength.

He was finishing up his meal when Aaron wandered in with Travis. “Dude,” Aaron said. “Do you know how much crap and salt is in those things?”

Josh got up. “Yes. What are you guys doing back so soon?”

“We need to resupply and make a report,” Aaron said. He gestured at Travis with his thumb. “Client this morning was pushing the boundaries but he deflected it perfectly.”

Frowning, Josh looked over at Travis. He tilted his head, raised an eyebrow. This was something they took very seriously. “Travis,” he said. “Do I need to talk to her?”

“I don’t think so,” Travis said. He took a step backward, dipped his head down, shook it. Put his hands up like it wasn’t a thing. “She backed down immediately. Apologized.”

“What was the name?” Josh asked with a sigh. He’d have to flag her account. He drummed out a beat on the tabletop with his fingertips. “Before you leave, I’m going to need both of you to write up exactly what was said and what happened.”

Aaron nodded. “I know where the incident-report form is. We’ll use the computer in the testing room.”

“Okay. I’ll get the report together and forward it to Sadie this afternoon. We’ll see what she says.”

As they left the kitchen, Josh grabbed a bottle of water. He knew what Sadie was going to say. Most of it would consist of blistering profanities. They’d had an incident in the early years when a client accused a Crew member of inappropriate behavior. She’d made it up to try to get him fired for not reciprocating, but it had scared Sadie. Why did people have to act this way? Did high school ever end? Not for some people, apparently. The reason that it hit Sadie so hard was because the Crew was her family. She felt responsible for them. The behavioral contracts had been born from that incident.

Now it was his turn to feel that pressure. To protect his Crew. He might have to tiptoe around this a little more delicately than Sadie would. Sadie could be direct and no-nonsense with another woman. He’d have to be more diplomatic about it. Crap. Why can’t people just behave?

* * *

MICKIE LISTENED, IN the dark, wrapped in blankets, on her bed of foam padding. She’d woken out of sleep, as much sleep as she’d been able to manage, by a panicked thought. Had Ian cried? A steady bang on the front door sent her heart racing even faster as she scrambled to her feet and ran out the bedroom door toward Ian’s room.

“Fire department!” The two words came in one big burst of sound, accompanied by another quick round of pounding on the door.

Fire? She scooped up Ian up, still in his blanket, and carried him to the living room. There, she could see the pulse of red lights and she could hear the rumbling of engines. She opened the door just as the firefighter was about to knock again.

“What’s happening?”

“Gas leak in the next duplex over. We’re temporarily evacuating until the line gets shut down for repairs. Shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.”

“Oh, okay.”

Great. She slipped on the flip-flops she kept by the front door and carried Ian outside. The firefighter directed her to a spot down the street where she could see other residents huddled together. At least it’s summer and not raining.

“Mickie,” a voice called from the side of the street.

She turned toward the voice. Josh. He was sitting cross-legged in the grass, looking as cute as ever. Even relaxed on the grass, those shoulders—damn. She walked over, said hey and tried to ease herself down near him, but ended up losing her balance and falling flat on her ass. Ouch! At least she cushioned the plop down for Ian, who was still asleep in her arms. Not an easy armful. Ian was getting bigger every day and hauling him around wasn’t easy. He’d stirred as her butt hit the ground, but thankfully it wasn’t too much.

“Shhh. Go to sleep. It’s okay,” she murmured to him as she rocked him in her arms.

“Nice night to get kicked out of bed, huh?” Josh asked. His hair was a bit messy, but in a sexy way, like he’d just been stirred out of a nap on the sofa. She imagined... Wait, no!

“Ugh. Tomorrow morning is not going to be pretty,” she said. She was already imagining all the things she had to do tomorrow and how much more pleasant they’d be without any sleep. “Do they have any idea how long it’s going to take?”

“Someone from the Red Cross just got here. Said they have emergency shelter for people with no place to go.”

“Is it going to be that long? Where is it?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t ask. If it’s more than an hour, I’ll call DeShawn, go to his place.”

“Oh.”

“You have some place to go? To take the kiddo?”

She shook her head, pressing her lips together. Awesome. Another thing she’d never thought of. What to do in an emergency. She could barely take care of them when everything was going perfectly. She shifted Ian in her arms and fussed with his blanket. When the fear and the shame hit, it was like a slow trickle of cold in her gut, dead center, that spread outward and upward, all through her. She hated not knowing what to do next. Because she was supposed to know. She was the mom. And, yet, here we are. Don’t cry. Do not cry in front of him. Whether she meant Josh or Ian, she wasn’t sure.

She blew a breath out. There was a throb in her temple now. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up with a whopper of a headache on top of it all. That’s help. That’d just be the icing on the cake.

“Hey. You okay?” Josh asked. “You want me to get the Red Cross guy so you can talk to him?”

His voice, warm and low, full of concern, should have comforted her. Really, it should have. But it only made her feel worse. Because she was the worst mother on the planet. What would happen? What if the apartment burned down? What if there was a flood? Or a tornado? What if she got sick? What would happen to Ian? How would she take care of him? It struck her, all at once, just how precarious this plan of hers was. Make it to the start of nursing school, power through, come through the other side financially solid. Who actually thought that was going to work? And the thing was, she hadn’t just put herself in this position, she’d put her son in this position, and that was indefensible.

She turned her face away from Josh, curling forward to rest her cheek on the top of Ian’s head. There were bad thoughts piling up in her head and she knew—she knew—that she had to let that bad talk fall away. She couldn’t let that plow her under, that big mudslide of bad. “No. I’ll talk to him if it’s going to take much longer.”

Take care of the immediate problem. The one that’s right in front of you. Okay, great plan. How, exactly?

“I’m sure DeShawn would make room for all of us,” Josh said. “If it came to that.”

A small shuddering laugh escaped her lips. Oh, God. Not just alone with Josh. Alone with Josh and his buddy? No. Just, no. She hugged Ian against her. “We’ll be okay.”

This is where you are. On the street with a stranger offering to take you and your son to an even stranger stranger’s house. Giving in to the heavy weight of guilt and shame, her constant companions these days, her shoulders slumped. Looking at the ground beside her to make sure there were no fire-ant mounds there before running her hand across it, she gently lowered Ian to the grass and took a moment to make sure he was covered with the blanket because she could feel Josh’s gaze on her back. She shook out her aching arms. He’s getting so big.

“Can I ask you something?”

She bit back the profane remark that rose to the tip of her tongue. She was too tired for this. He’s a nice guy. Don’t take it out on him. “You can ask.”

“I saw you going to the Laundromat the other day,” he said, instantly horrifying her in fifty thousand different ways by this observation. Then he doubled down by adding, “Please use my washer and dryer. It’s right there. I barely use it. If you want, just let me know when you need it and I’ll leave the back door unlocked so you can come and go while I’m out working.”

The thing about it was...he looked so innocent and guileless when he said it. Just sitting there on the grass, like it wasn’t a thing, waiting for a response.

“What does it matter to you?” she said, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her eyes. She started playing with her whole mess of hair, wishing she’d grabbed a scrunchie on her way out the door. They were everywhere in her apartment: on the dresser, on the sink, on the floor, behind the sofa. Every time she cleaned, she’d find at least half a dozen and have no idea how they got where she found them.

He huffed out a burst of air in such obvious exasperation that she looked over at him. He was grinning at her. “You don’t know this,” he said, “but you are so like my boss, Sadie, that it isn’t even funny.”

She glared at him, glad for the spark of anger that burned out her feelings of failure. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

He held up a hand and began ticking off fingers, one by one. “Stubborn, mule-headed, prideful, wouldn’t ask for a glass of water if she was on fire. Should I continue?”

“Why not?” she said. “You still have a thumb to use.” But she turned away before he could finish, making sure to flounce her hair. She turned back to him and scrunched up her nose. “You act like those are bad things.”

“No, not bad,” he said. “Just unnecessary at times. Why are you dragging yourself and Ian to the Laundromat a couple of times a week, in this heat, spending the money when you can walk next door and do it for free?”

“Because nothing is for free, Josh. You know that.”

That made him shut up. After a few minutes, a firefighter made his way down to the small crowd. “Okay, everyone can return to their homes. The leak is secured. The gas is off until the repairs can be made but the property owners told me that only the heat is gas-powered so you shouldn’t be impacted at all.”

“Other than dragging us out into the street in the middle of the night,” Mickie grumbled. But she said it under her breath because it wasn’t this guy’s fault and that was one thing she always hated—the way people would attack the easy target, the person who just happened to be there, trying to help. She stood, lifting Ian as she did. Gosh, he was heavy.

“Let me carry him for you,” Josh said.

“I’ve got him.”

“Mickie.”

She stopped at the tone of his voice. She was feeling just a hitch past irritated and bordering on perturbed at this point. “What?”

“Let someone help you, for God’s sake. You don’t have to do everything alone.”

She stared at him. “Yes. I do,” she whispered.

He stepped closer. “No. You don’t.” He held out his hands. “Let me carry him back to your place.”

“You don’t even know how to hold a baby.”

“It’s easier when they aren’t screaming and blowing snot bubbles at me.” He stood, grinning at her with his hands still extended, conceding her point, but still not backing down. Still wanting to do what he could do. The grin faded. “Please, Mickie.”

“Why?”

“Because I was alone for a long time, too. I get it.”

Why are you being like this? Because you trusted a man once before, that’s why. But she was so tempted. A washer and dryer! Right next door. No more two-hour trips to the Laundromat twice a week? She drew in a breath. “Okay.”

His smile returned. “Okay?”

“I’ll use your stupid washer and dryer. But only because it means so much to you. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Of course you are. Now, give me the baby.”

She handed Ian over to him. He looked mildly afraid and awkwardly maneuvered the sleeping toddler in his arms. But he figured it out and looked over at her. “Dang. He’s heavier than I remember. How do you lug him around all day?”

“It’s called being a mother.”


CHAPTER FIVE (#u75a50be8-f610-5f06-9e36-19a6d09ba0e7)

HIS PHONE WAS like a mosquito in a dark bedroom; the minute you thought it’d flown away, it buzzed again. He would have turned off the sound but he was waiting for a couple of calls he couldn’t miss. Josh tried to ignore it, tried to concentrate on the young man sitting across from him. His application had looked good and he had some experience. His father ran an industrial cleaning company. They went into office buildings at night and cleaned. Dean had helped out over the summers while he was in high school. He seemed like a bright guy and he knew Sadie would approve.

The phone jittered on the table. He glanced down. Sent it to voice mail.

“This all looks great. I’ll get you started on the testing now. After I get the results and talk to your references...”

“There’s a woman at the door,” Travis said, pointing over Josh’s shoulder.

Josh twisted to look. It was Mickie. And the baby sleeping in his stroller. She had a duffel bag hooked over a shoulder. He held back the grin. It had been almost a week since the night she’d let him carry Ian back to her front door. He’d been letting her have her space. Like a head-shy puppy, he knew she’d run if he even looked at her funny. As he stood, she began to shake her head and step back.

“Sorry,” she said as he slid the door open. “It’s a bad time. I’ll come back later.”

“No, come on in.”

“You sure?”

“If you don’t, I’ll wake the baby.”

That earned him a twist of her luscious lips and a raised eyebrow. “You wake the baby and I’ll leave him here with you.”

He pushed the door open wider. “See? Now you have to come in. For Ian’s own protection.” He turned away and motioned to Travis. “Come on, I’ll set up the testing programs for you.”

He had the testing room set up in the second bedroom. As he got Travis settled part of him was listening to Mickie humming slightly off-key as she started the washer.

“Your phone is buzzing,” she called out.

“What’s it say?”

Pause. “Unknown number.”

“Ignore it.”

He turned back to Travis. “There are two tests. They are both fairly long, about a hundred questions each. After the first is done, the second should load automatically. Let me know if it doesn’t. Bathroom is across the hall if you need, there’s no time limit. Get me if you have any problems or questions.”

“It buzzed two more times,” Mickie said as he returned to the kitchen. She stopped, turned, looked back and met his gaze directly. “Both unknowns so I ignored them.”

“Thanks.”

“If it’s okay, I’ll just leave the duffel here. I’ve got another load.”

“That’s fine.”

As she worked the stroller out the back door, she said, “Thanks again.”

“No problem.”

He watched her leave, a little dizzy with the whirl of desire he was feeling. Part of him wanted to put an arm around her and help solve all her problems, while the other wanted to lift her up on the washer and step between those legs and...

The phone buzzed and the doorbell rang. Shit. It was DeShawn on the phone. And at the door was his next applicant, early for his interview. Of course. So, while the interviewee cooled his heels on the couch, Josh talked DeShawn through getting the behavior contract signed with a touchy client. Mickie came and went, doing an exaggerated tiptoe across the room that made him smile.

When she came back next, he was on his third interview. Travis was finishing up his testing, applicant number two was beginning his test and Josh was about to take a hammer to the phone. She gave a quick wave and began to fold the laundry from the dryer. Josh found it hard to fully concentrate on his interview with the motion of her body and the sway of her long hair in the periphery of his vision. The phone buzzed again. He reached out, but Mickie scooped the phone off the table.

“The Cleaning Crew, this is Mickie. How may I help you?”

Josh’s mouth dropped open for a second and he snapped it shut. What the heck was she doing? And good God, where did that phone-sex voice come from?

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you so much. Mr. Sanders is in a meeting right now. If you’d like to leave your name and number, I will have him get in touch with you for an estimate.”

She made a writing motion with her free hand. Josh handed her his pen. She snatched a page of a résumé off the desk and began to write. When she hung up, he lifted his hands, palms up, not quite sure how he felt about it. “What are you doing?” he asked.

She smiled and reached across the table to steal one of the stacks of yellow legal tablets he liked to use for to-do lists. “Paying for the laundry,” she said.

She maneuvered the stroller into the living room and came back to gather her clean clothes in her arms before returning to the living room. Josh turned his attention back to the poor guy who’d just had his interview interrupted at least a dozen times. He’d deal with Mickie in a minute. When he was done. She knew nothing about his business. She should not be answering phones and dealing with customers. True, a part of him said, but is it worse than sending them to voice mail? And he couldn’t ignore how much more smoothly he got the interview and testing done without the nagging buzz of the phone. An hour later, he shut the door as the last of the three finished. Mickie handed him the legal tablet.

“This column here,” she said as her finger traced down the page, “is people who want an estimate on cleaning services. This one was guys looking for information on applying. This was your boss, I think. Sadie, right? She’s your boss?”

“Yeah,” he said. She’d answered—he skimmed the list—ten phone calls. Ten people who got a person to talk to, not a voice mail. “What did Sadie want?”

Hell, he really did wonder. Sadie was adamant about maintaining a professional demeanor at all times. What was she about to say about him letting his next-door neighbor take calls?

“Well, she was a little surprised when I answered,” Mickie said. She smiled, as if recalling a private joke. “But I explained. She said I had a great phone voice. Said to tell you it wasn’t urgent, she was just checking to see how you were doing. Oh, and to call her back at your convenience.”

“Thanks.”

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and smiled. A real smile. A pleased-with-herself smile. It lit up her eyes like sunshine glinting off glacier ice. Something in him warmed at the sincerity in that smile. He couldn’t look away from it. Didn’t want to look away. Anything to keep that warmth spreading like a balm over aches he didn’t know he had.

“Mamamamama!”

Ian’s demand for attention doused the warmth with icy reality. She had a kid. A baby. She’d want a father for Ian. The one thing he was never going to be.

“Shhh, Ian. I know it’s time for lunch,” Mickie said. Her fingers were warm as she briefly touched his arm. “Thanks again for letting me use the washer and dryer.”

“Sure. No problem. Anytime.”

The words fell out of his mouth because his mind was churning. The touch, that smile. The kid. The old fears. And a completely preposterous idea was trying to surface. No. He tried to push it away, but it held its ground.

He needed a secretary. Mickie needed a job.

A tight huff of laughter tore from his throat. “Great idea, Josh,” he said aloud. Have her in here all day, every day? No. Just no.

An hour later, he’d returned all the phone calls, set up appointments to meet with the potential clients, redirected the applicants to the on-line application page and successfully managed to not call Sadie back. Mickie, however, stayed on his mind. One of the most important things the Cleaning Crew looked for in an employee was initiative. You see a problem or a need, you take care of it. Mickie had done just that. Plus, she knew she didn’t know enough about the business, so she limited herself to merely taking messages. Common sense.

Sure, common sense and initiative. And that hair he’d like to get his hands in. Those lips he’d like to taste. Eyes he’d like to drown in. And a kid. He stood and paced to the fridge. You need food. You are not thinking straight. You should be running as fast as you can. She and Ian deserve way better than the likes of you. Yet one phone call later, he was knocking on her back door.

“Is everything okay? I got you in trouble, didn’t I? I’m so sorry. I was just trying to help.” The words poured out of her the moment she opened the door.

“No. Wait. What?”

She put a hand over her heart. “You look so serious. I thought your boss was mad.”

“No. Um. That’s not why I came over,” he stammered. He took a deep breath. Get it over with. “Do you want a job?”

The play of emotions across her face brought back that feeling of warmth. A blink as she took in the words. Surprise as the meaning set in and a moment between the surprise and the huge smile that almost broke his heart. A moment of relief so immense that even he felt the weight of it lifting.

“Yes! Really? Are you serious?”

“Yes. I need office help. It’ll be cash under the table. Answer phones. Run the computer testing for the applicants. Stuff like that.”

“Yes. I can do that. Just show me what to do and I’ll do it.”

He smiled, unable to not return the joyous grin on her face. “Okay. Come on over around nine tomorrow and we’ll get you started.”

“Yes! I’ll be there.”

Then her arms were around him, squeezing tight. Her cheek pressed against him. Whoa, wow. Could she feel the way his heart jumped when she did that? Without consent from his brain, his hands slipped around her shoulders. She seemed so tiny, as if he could wrap his arms twice around her. He should step back. He should not be doing his. Instead, he dipped his head to take in the scent of her hair.

“You don’t know what this means to me,” she said as she pushed away.

His arms felt cold and empty without her there. He pushed the thought away. “I think I do,” he said. “See you tomorrow.”

He walked back to his apartment with a smile. That had felt good. Helping her. Remembering his own relief when Sadie had offered him a job after she’d found out he was fresh out of the foster-care system, he shook his head. He wouldn’t have hired himself back then. He’d been angry and stupid. But Sadie had seen something in him. And now he was just trying to pay it back.

* * *

MICKIE SPUN IN circles across the kitchen floor and scooped Ian out of his high chair. “Mommy has a job, baby man! A real job!”

She danced them around the kitchen to the tune of “Mommy’s got a job,” giddy with the release of the ever-constant worry. Thank God. Now she could focus on what she needed to do before school started in the fall.

“Everything is falling into place, Ian. Pretty soon, we’ll be sitting pretty. A new car. A house of our own. Everything.”

She put Ian back in his chair and sat across from him. “Got a lot to do this afternoon. Call the day care and see if I can get you in now instead of when school starts. Grocery store. I need to go through my clothes and find something to wear on a job.”

She began making a list. She loved lists. Their orderliness. The satisfaction of crossing off things done. As the emotional high of the sudden appearance of a job dissipated, she became aware of another feeling coursing quietly through her. It took a while to recognize it. Lust. Her long-lost sex drive decided to show up now? For her new boss? Not a good thing.

The spontaneous hug was something the old her would have done. The new Mickie wasn’t so touchy-feely. And yet... It had been like hugging a tree. Solid, hard muscle had met her arms. So, you hugged him. So what? You were happy. Surprised. It was a hug. And he’d hugged her back. The low-grade desire flared up like a sunspot. Hot. Bright. His hands hesitantly skimming across her shoulders. Even if she could rationalize that away, there was no explanation for the brush of his cheek against her hair.

The pen fell from her inattentive fingers and skittered off the table. She scrubbed her hands across her face. No. Just no. Don’t care how warm and squishy he makes you feel. Absolutely no men. She lifted her face to watch as Ian picked through his Cheerios. She could see enough of his father in him to always remember. He had his father’s dark curls and light brown eyes. She’d trained herself over the years to only see Ian, but now she needed the reminder. No men. Someday. When she would know...

“Stop it,” she hissed under her breath. She stood, her legs feeling wobbly from the sudden wave of memories. Too far. She deliberately took a deep breath and let it out in a slow stream. Her insides went cold and a humming filled her head. Turning, she made her way to the stove, where she reached up into the high cabinet and found a plastic vial. Letting the panic prickle along her nerves, she focused on breathing. Air in. Air out. You aren’t wasting a Xanax on this. Focus.

“Mama! Fins!”

“You sure did finish it all.” She put the pill bottle away and shut the cabinet. She crossed back to the table and lifted Ian from his chair, ignoring the close call. She’d not had a full-out panic attack in over a year. “How about a field trip, my little man? See if you can go play with some friends tomorrow?”

Hugging Ian tight and burying her face in his soft curls, she willed the tears back. What she really needed was her mother’s arms around her. She needed to talk to her. But that was something she never dared risk again, and that was that.

* * *

JOSH LOOKED SURPRISED when she tapped on the back door at exactly one minute to nine the next morning. She watched as he tossed the dish towel he was drying his hands with over his shoulder and popped the door open.

“Where’s Ian?”

“I got him in early at the day care where he’ll be when I start school.”

“You could have brought him.”

“No. It’s good for him to be around other kids,” she said, putting her bag down on the kitchen table. She smiled at Josh. “And for me to get out of mommy mode for a while.”

“Now I’m going to have to raise your pay to cover day care,” he said, half-kidding. He was kidding, right?

“Josh. You don’t have to do that. You’ve been so kind to us. A job is more than enough.”

She stared up at him. His eyes were warm and a half smile lurked on his lips. Those lips that had brushed against her hair. Suddenly she was rendered temporarily incapable of drawing in a full breath. Oh, hell no. She crossed her arms and walked around him to the kitchen table. Simple. Just don’t look at him. Problem solved.

Except it wasn’t. He came to stand beside her. Close beside her. Now she could smell him. Ivory soap and man. He bumped his arm against hers in a friendly gesture.

“Listen, I’ve been there,” he said in a low voice. “Alone and just needing a lifeline tossed. Sadie did that for me. If I can help in any way, big or small, I’m only paying it back. Okay?”

Tears clogged her throat and her vision went blurry for a moment before her warning system began wailing. Do not look vulnerable. Do not look weak. She straightened and smiled up at him. Wondered why he’d been alone. No, she couldn’t think of that right now.

“Thank you. Now, I can only work until school starts in the fall. Is that going to be okay?”

“That’s perfect. By then, I should have enough people trained to take over the office work myself.”

“So, show me what to do.”

* * *

SHE WAS SMART. Josh noticed that immediately. He began with the Cleaning Crew philosophy and what his expectations were for both the crew and the customers. As he began outlining her responsibilities, she took a yellow legal tablet and began taking quick, efficient notes. A page for what to tell prospective customers. Another for what to tell applicants. When he showed her how to set up the personality testing, she asked to take the tests herself so she would be better prepared to answer questions. He found himself wishing he could hire her permanently.

He also found himself wishing he could smell her hair again. Now he was wishing she’d brought Ian. That way, there’d be a messy, noisy reminder of why he needed to rein in his hormones. He had to get away from her.

“I’m going to get some work done. You’re on telephone duty.”

Through the morning, as he tried to get his inbox under some sort of control and wade through the accounting, her soft sexy voice drifted down the hall as she answered calls. Not helping his concentration. Thanks a lot, Lena. She probably made these forms as complicated as possible just to screw with him. A grin crossed his lips as he thought of Sadie’s best friend and financial manager. She was just as big a part of the Crew’s success as he was and she knew it. He couldn’t hate on her too hard.

At noon, he wandered to the kitchen thinking about taking Mickie out for lunch. He stopped at the sight. The smell of Sharpie ink hung heavy in the air. She had a pile of file folders on the table and the stack of papers he’d dropped in the bottom drawer of the empty file cabinet. His I’ll-get-to-it-eventually pile.

“What’s all this?”

She smiled up at him and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I got bored waiting for phone calls. I found all these loose, so I’m making files for each client.” She tapped the papers. “These are your contracts, Josh. Both for services and the behavior agreement. They shouldn’t be lost.”

An unexpected laugh appeared at the sight of her looking at him so sweetly yet so sternly. “You’re absolutely right. Thank you. It’s on my list of stuff to do.”

She held out a hand, palm up. “Give me the list. It’s what you’re paying me for.”

“Later. Now it’s time for the first-day-of-work tradition of going out to lunch on the boss.”

“Go out? For lunch? Like a real grown-up?” She clasped her hands to her cheeks. “I’m not sure if I remember how to do that.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s one of those riding-a-bike kind of things.”

He had planned on a quick run up to Subway, but seeing her reaction made him reevaluate. “Do you like Middle Eastern food?”

“Don’t know. Never had it.”

“Well, that settles it. Al-Amir on Main, it is. Uh, ever ridden a motorcycle?”

“Nope.”

“We can take the car if you want. Parking the bike is so much easier.”

“If you have a helmet. I’d rather not splatter my brains across the street.”

He laughed. “I wouldn’t put anyone on my bike without one.”

* * *

THIS WAS A day of firsts, it seemed. First day on the job. First time eating Middle Eastern food—whatever that was going to turn out to be—and the first time on the back of a motorcycle. Part of her was screaming-mommy horrified that she was putting Ian in jeopardy of becoming an orphan, but the other part was too busy realizing she was clinging to her new boss like a barnacle as he navigated the city streets. At a red light, he looked back at her.

“Just relax. Lean when I lean.”

Uh-huh. Not a single part of her relaxed. Not with her knees clamped against his hips and her hands clenching his middle. It was all she could do to keep her fingers from playing with the ridges of his abs. Happy for the helmet that covered her face, she gave in to a wicked smile for her thoughts. For the first time in a very long time, she was having fun. And feeling like a woman. The bike went over a small bump and she bounced forward, right up against that back. She clenched harder at his waist.

“You okay back there?”

“Yeah.”

No. Her heart was pounding and she was having a hard time catching her breath. She wanted to get laid. Now. By him. In the worst possible way. It had been practically since Ian was conceived. A pulling, aching need spread through her. The bike made a sharp turn to the right and she clung to him. This did nothing to help her get her mind off jumping him.

The second the bike stopped, she scrambled off while he secured it. Her trembling fingers fumbled at the helmet strap.

“Let me get that,” he said. His fingers brushing against the side of her throat stoked her need to painful levels. When the helmet lifted away, a frown creased his face. “You’re flushed. Did it scare you that much?”

“No,” she lied. “It was exciting. I liked it.”

Dear sweet baby Jesus in the manger. Stop it. Take a breath. Act like an adult. You don’t need this. But she couldn’t help it. It felt good to pretend for a little while. Pretend she was a normal person. Pretend she didn’t have a care in the world.

* * *

BY THE TIME they were seated, Josh noticed two things. One, Mickie had stopped just inside and scanned every face in the restaurant. Two, she sat with her back to the wall. Interesting. Especially since she wasn’t from Columbia and supposedly didn’t know anyone here.

By the time they’d placed their orders, the flush had faded from her cheeks, but her gaze still darted to the door every time it opened. Time to do some fishing.

“Where’d you move here from?”

Her eyes met his briefly before she focused on bobbing her straw up and down in her water. “Asheville.”

He waited. That was it. “You’re going to USC in the fall?”

She nodded. “Nursing school.”

“Really? What made you decide on that?”

She stopped bobbing the straw and clasped her hands on the table. “When—when Ian was born.” She stopped and cleared her throat. Stared at her hands. “The nurses helped me so much. I admired them. And I want to help people. Like they did for me.”

“That’s admirable.”

He let the silence play out for a stretch. He couldn’t tell if she was an incredibly private person or hiding something. Something more than just being a single mother alone in a big city. There were glimpses he’d catch. Her spontaneous hug after he’d offered her the job. That silly little tiptoe pantomime she’d done the day she came to do her laundry. But she kept that hidden behind a wall of stubborn refusal to let people close. Which was the real Mickie?

“What did you mean when you told me you knew what it was like to be alone?”

Her question surprised him. Her tone was softly questioning and her gaze was direct and warm. Surely she wasn’t about to confide in him. He suppressed a smile as it clicked. Nursing school. She’d found a sore spot and wanted to fix it. Beneath that wall of ice or fear or whatever it was, she cared deeply about people. He wasn’t sure why he’d said that to her. Even though it was true, he rarely opened that part of his life to others. But he found he wanted to know her secret. If he wanted that maybe he’d have to give up one of his own.

“I was raised in the foster-care system. When I turned eighteen, I was out on the street. Alone. No family.”

Her eyes widened and filled with warmth. Usually he saw pity or discomfort in people’s eyes when he revealed this. Which was why he didn’t like to do it. It led to abruptly ended conversations or questions he didn’t want to answer. What he saw in Mickie’s gaze stunned him because he’d only seen it once before: in Sadie’s eyes the day he’d answered her help wanted ad. Empathy. His surprise deepened when she spoke. Her words dropped to a husky whisper. A question not of curiosity or compassion, but one seeking knowledge.

“How did you make it through?”

He leaned forward, wanting to be closer to her, never taking his eyes from hers. “I kept moving forward. I found Sadie. She gave me more than a job. She gave me a family. That was the most important thing. I let her help me.”

The moment spun out. She drew in a breath and her lips parted. Whatever she was going to say was lost when the waitress arrived with their food.

“Everything okay here?” the waitress asked, her gaze moving between the two of them.

Mickie blinked. Smiled up at the waitress. “Yes. This looks amazing. Thank you.”

Josh sat back and concentrated on his gyro and let the intensity of the conversation fade. He’d planted a seed. If she needed help, hopefully she’d let him help her. Paying it back. Just paying it back.

* * *

MICKIE COULDN’T WAIT to get to the day care and pick up Ian after finishing for the day. Hurrying down the sidewalk, she couldn’t quite outpace her thoughts. Josh had scared her, drawing her in like that so easily. Establishing that emotional bond. Establishing himself as a protector. She shook her head as if to dislodge the thoughts. She wouldn’t fall for it again. She knew the signs now. She needed the job but that didn’t mean she’d get herself entangled. Again.

When she peeked around the corner of the playroom, she was happy to see Ian laughing and playing with another little boy. The look of joy on his face when he saw her drove away all her fears. She scooped him up and held him tight.

“Hey there, baby man. Momma is so happy to see you. I missed you so much.”

Pushing the stroller across campus, she spied the pay phone she’d used before. She didn’t have enough change. But she wanted to hear her mother’s voice. Needed. Two minutes later, an operator was asking for charges to be accepted.

“Hey, Auntie Em,” she breathed. “Sorry to bother you.”

“Is everything all right, hun?”

The anxiety in her mother’s voice triggered her own stab of panic. She’d never called collect before. “Yes. I’m fine. Everything is fine. I’m sorry. I wanted to let you know I got a new job. Temporary but it’s perfect for...my needs now.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. Did you get the greeting cards I sent you?”

“Yes. Thank you. That should be enough for now.”

There was so much more she wanted to say. How frightened she’d been. How stupid she felt. All her jumbled-up emotions. Ian was beginning to fuss. He was hungry and needed supper. “I miss you,” she whispered.

“We miss you, too. Write to me. I love getting your letters.”

After ending the call, she stared at the black receiver. The sun beat down on her and she felt heavy again. Oh-so heavy and slow. What was it Josh had said? Just keep moving forward. Yep.

“One foot in front of the other, girl.”

With a deep breath and squared shoulders, she pushed the stroller toward home. Nursing school. Job. Nothing else. Remember it’s a job. He’s not your friend. He’s not your confidant. He’s your boss. Keep it that way.


CHAPTER SIX (#u75a50be8-f610-5f06-9e36-19a6d09ba0e7)

SHE SLOWED AS she came in view of the duplex. There was a woman sitting on her front porch. She slowed her steps even more as she checked her out. She was young. African American. Wearing red scrubs. The scrubs required for USC nursing students. She turned Ian’s stroller up the walk leading to the house. She stopped a few feet away from the porch. Where she could reach Josh’s door in a hurry. “May I help you?”

The woman looked up from the book she was reading. “Hey! Yeah. I’m looking for Michael Phillips.” She tucked the book into a backpack and stood. Now Mickie could see the USC nursing school emblem and her student ID.

“That’s me.”

The stunned look on the woman’s face wasn’t new to Mickie. The head shake and self-deprecating laugh was. “Dang! And here I practically had to fight a couple other girls to get you assigned to me. Was hoping you’d be some tall, dark and handsome type.”

Mickie felt a small smile form on her lips. “Nope. Short, blond, girl type.”

The woman put a hand on her generous hip and looked Mickie up and down. “How’d you end up with a name like Michael?”

It wasn’t the first time she’d been asked the question. But she had her lie smooth as silk. “Remember that old TV show The Waltons?”

“I think so. John-Boy?”

“Yeah. The actress that played the mother was named Michael. And the credits listed her as Miss Michael whatever-her-last-name-was. My mom thought it was so classy and elegant. So, here I am. Miss Michael Phillips.”

“Okay. That’s a new one.” She walked up with her hand out. “I’m Tiana Nelson. I don’t have a story about my name but I’ll be your mentor this coming semester. You can call me Tiana or Tee. Call me TeeTee and we’ll have a problem. I tried your number a few times but you never answered.”

“Sorry. I have a thing about answering unknown phone calls. You should have left a message.”

“I have a thing about voice mail. Makes me babble like a fool. So I just thought I’d drop by. Was getting to leave a note. So, do you go by Michael?”

“Mickie.”

Ian let out an impatient cry. Tiana leaned down. “You have a baby! Oh, my God, he’s so cute. Hey, little man, what’s up?”

“He’s starving, that’s what’s up right now. Come on in.”

If Tiana was curious about the lack of furniture, she didn’t say anything. Mickie hurried together some food for Ian while Tiana went over the contents of a package she’d brought. Information on registration, the new student orientation, a welcome mixer, class schedules.

“Any questions?”

Mickie sorted through the papers. “Will I live through this?”

Tiana’s laugh filled the kitchen. It was a warm sound. A missed sound. Mickie smiled when Ian joined in the laughter. That’s what they needed. “Yeah, you’ll live. Won’t seem like it, but you will.” She tilted her head toward Ian, sending the short curls of her hair bouncing, then turned to Mickie. “What about little man there? You have help with him?”

“I’ve got him in the day care. They accommodate our school schedules. Other than that, no. It’s just the two of us.”

Tiana nodded slowly. Now her gaze did roam the sparse apartment before once again settling on Mickie. “Well, now there’s the three of us. Okay? I’m your mentor. I hope I’ll be your friend. Use me.”

Tears clogged Mickie’s throat. Josh’s voice echoed in her mind. I let people help me. “Okay. Thank you.”

“I mean it, Miss Michael. I almost quit in my first year. I came out of a small nowhere town and didn’t know what I was doing with myself. I was alone and lost. My mentor saved me.” She straightened from her slump against the counter and shrugged the backpack on her shoulders. “I’m gonna let you tend to little man here. You have my number. Call me for anything.”

At the door, Mickie forced herself to reach out and take Tiana’s hand. She gave it a brief squeeze. “Thank you. It’s hard for me to ask for help.”

“But you will?”

The question was accompanied by a stern look.

“Yes. I will.”

* * *

THEY HAD SETTLED into a comfortable routine. Josh spent most of his time in the testing room while Mickie kept to the kitchen table. Something had changed, but he wasn’t quite sure what. On the surface, everything was the same. She was warm, friendly and efficient. But there was a bit of aloofness there. Josh shook his head. What do you expect? She’s an employee.

“Hey,” he said as he entered the kitchen. “I’m expecting a visitor in about an hour or so. Wyatt Anderson.”

Mickie glanced at him briefly before returning her attention to the laptop. “Okay.”

Grabbing a bottle of water, he headed back to his office space. And stopped. “Everything okay?”

“Yes. Why?”

The look of complete professionalism on her face stabbed at him. “No reason. Just checking.”

Shutting the door behind him, Josh flopped down in his office chair. The look on her face. Why was that bothering him? She was an employee. Yeah, but, another part of him nagged, before that she was your hot neighbor. He twisted the cap off the water bottle and chugged it down. Forget it, man.

He was so focused on plowing through the never-ending paperwork that Mickie’s knock on the door startled him. “Yeah?”

The door opened. “Mr. Anderson is here,” she said.

Wyatt appeared in the door. “Wyatt is fine. No need to be formal.”

Josh stood to shake Wyatt’s hand. “Wyatt’s almost family, Mickie. The only man brave enough to attempt to tame the big boss lady.”

Wyatt laughed. “I’m not even going to attempt that. Besides, I sort of like her wild.”

“Okay,” Mickie said with a smile. “Is there anything I can get for you? Either of you?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks,” Wyatt said. He set the laptop bag he was carrying on the table.

Josh found his full attention on that bag. His heart rate kicked up several notches. After all these years. Were his answers right there? A hand on his arm pulled his attention to Mickie’s ice-blue eyes. She looked both concerned and puzzled.

“Are you okay? You look...funny.”

“No, I’m fine. Thanks, Mick.”

After she left them, Wyatt sat and powered up the laptop. “She’s right. You looked a bit panicky there. You sure you want to know this?”

“Is it good?”

“Pretty much.”

Now his breathing joined in with his heart rate and both ran in hitching, erratic patterns. He felt his fingertips go numb and Wyatt’s voice dimmed. He shook his head and took in several deep, cleansing breaths. Focus. Calm. Quiet. He got his breath back under control, but his heart... He couldn’t contain his heart. So much sloshing around in there. Hope. Fear. Joy. Pain.

“I’ve got all this in a .ZIP file and I’ll email it to you so you can have it. Just thought it’d be best to go over it in person.”

“Okay.” Josh nodded, but his full concentration was on the file that Wyatt was opening. Just like that. After all his years of searching, Wyatt had found her in days. Was he really ready for this? He pushed down the doubts and sudden fears that were urging him to tell Wyatt to never mind, go back home.

“I’ll start with what I do know. Your sister’s birth name was Kimberly Sanders.”

“Kimmie,” Josh whispered.

Wyatt hesitated and turned to Josh. “You do know what happened to your parents, right?”

“Yes. Well. Mostly. As much as I remember. Read some old newspaper articles when I got older. There wasn’t much about them I didn’t know already. Poor, drunk.” He shrugged. “Barely a blip on the social radar.”

“Okay. It appears that the two of you were separated almost immediately. You both went into emergency protective custody. As you are probably more than aware, foster homes aren’t exactly plentiful and there didn’t seem to be a home available that could take you both. The foster parents who took Kimberly that night are the ones who adopted her.”

A lump rose up in Josh’s throat and tears stung at his eyes. He lowered his face to his hands. Wyatt’s hand came down on his shoulder.

“You okay, brother?”

“Yeah.” Josh cleared his throat against the thickness. “Yeah. I’m just relieved. Getting bounced around from home to home was the worst and to know she never went through that...it’s good. I’m okay. Keep going.”

“Adoptive family lived in Moncks Corner. Last name is Mixon. They kept her first name so she’s Kimberly Mixon now.”

He clicked on another file and two pictures came up. Josh leaned forward, eager to see his sister’s face. She had the same dark curls he remembered. He couldn’t tell what color her eyes were but they looked light. Blue like his?

“Wow. That’s her?”

“That’s her. First one here is a college graduation photo. This one is from the paper. It’s her engagement announcement.”

Josh reached out to touch the screen. His sister. Kimmie. She was fine. “She graduated from college?”

“Yes. Degree in elementary education. She’s a second grade teacher. Her fiancé is a software engineer. Seem pretty happy.”

Josh let that sink in. All his life, he’d worried about Kimmie. It had been his job to protect her, to watch out for her. That he’d never known what happened to her was a pain that never went away. Now he knew. Happy. Loved.

“You said there were some things you didn’t know?”

Wyatt closed down the files. “I’m going to send these to you now, yeah. I’m assuming that you are thinking about reaching out to her. I mean, Sadie and her brother must have put the idea in your mind. I’ll help you with that if you want.”

“But?”

“I don’t know if she knows anything. If she knows she was adopted. If she knows the truth about your parents or not.”

Josh watched Wyatt’s hands as they moved across the keyboard, sending the file and shutting down the laptop. He had been thinking about reaching out. A letter like Sadie’s half brother had sent to her. Leaning back in his chair, he covered his face with his hands. Damn. She was happy. Getting married. Did she know or would he be dropping a giant pile of pain and shame into her life?

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” Wyatt agreed.

Josh dropped his hands. “Still, thanks, man. At least now I know she’s okay. That was the most important thing. I appreciate it. More than you know.”

Wyatt’s hand clamped down on Josh’s shoulder and gently shook him. “Josh. Look at me. You are Sadie’s brother. Which in a couple of months makes you my brother. We’re all we got, man. You, Sadie, me and Jules. We’re a family.” He stood and pulled Josh into an embrace.

“Thank you. I mean it.”

“Talk to Sadie if you need to.”

“Yeah. I will. You want to grab some lunch or something?”

“Nah. I’ve got to get back to Charleston. Call us.”

As they walked to the front door, another old ghost from the past rose. “Hey,” Josh asked as they stepped out on the porch. “I hate to ask, but do you think you can get the original police reports on my parents?”

“Probably. Is that a wound you want to go digging in?”

“I don’t know. But I’m starting to think want isn’t the right word. Maybe I...need to.”

“I’ll look into it.”

“Thanks. And, Wyatt?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell Sadie not to call me about this right now.”

Wyatt’s laugh made him smile. “I will relay your message.”

* * *

MICKIE LOOKED UP as she heard the front door close. She waited but Josh didn’t come back from the living room. “Josh?” She stood and moved to the opening between the kitchen and living room. He was standing facing the closed door, his arms on the frame, his forehead resting against the wooden surface. Unease prickled down her spine. “Are you okay?”





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