Be My Hero (Forbidden Men, #3)

"How . . . ?" He cocked his head to the side, suddenly suspicious. "How'd you learn all that?"

I let out an exaggerated sigh. "It doesn't matter how. It matters that you never bothered to tell me any of it yourself. Why didn't you think I deserved to know? I thought we were at least friends. And you knew I always felt guilty about the way we . . . interacted."

"Eva . . . " He glanced away, torment creasing his face as he ran his fingers through his hair. When he came back to face me, he gave a heavy sigh. "We are friends."

"Then . . . " I shook my head, confused and hurt. "Why?"

He opened his mouth. "I . . . I like you," he admitted as if it were some kind of great confession.

"Okay," I said slowly. "Wouldn't that mean you should feel more comfortable sharing those kinds of facts with me, then?"

He lifted his hand, as if to tell me he was having trouble explaining. "I . . . I mean, if I wasn't tied down to her right now . . . if I wasn't . . . " He groaned and shoved his fingers through his hair again. "I would want to be more than just your friend."

"Oh." I gulped. Oh, wow.

He watched me intently, regret in his dark brown eyes. "I can't annul the marriage. She's an awful mother. I feel sick about even admitting that out loud, but it's true, and I feel even worse every time I have to leave Julian alone with her. I never know if she's going to skip feeding him or not change his diaper or just leave him in his swing all day. That's why I'm itching to get home right now. What if . . . anything could be happening. If I stop this marriage, I will have no rights to him whatsoever. I basically don't now, but it's better than nothing." His eyes reddened around the edges as he pushed off the bed and cleared his throat. "I need to get home."

He was at the door before I collected my scattered thoughts enough to say, "Pick."

He stopped but kept his back to me, his head bowed.

"I understand," I said softly.

He glanced at me, looking almost sick with regret. Then his gaze flickered longingly over Skylar. "Take care of yourself, Tinker Bell."

And then he was gone.





Chapter 17


EVA


On Sunday evening, Reese and I gave Skylar her first sponge bath at the kitchen table. We were oohing and ahhing over every tiny finger and toe when Mason got a call on his cell phone.

"Shit," he muttered to the caller. "Yeah, I can take on tomorrow night. I'm already working Wednesday and Thursday. Can you handle Friday? Good. I promised Reese a date night."

When he hung up and rubbed his tired face, Reese straightened to shoot him a curious glance. "What's going on?"

Mason glanced uneasily at me before saying, "That was Noel. Pick's babysitter has chicken pox, or her kids do or . . . someone. I don't know. They're all contagious for the next two weeks, so he has to stay home with his boy until he finds someone he can trust to watch him."

I frowned. "What about his wife?"

It was her son. Why was he looking for babysitters? And why wasn't she taking off from her own job to watch him?

"She, uh, she left," Mason mumbled, ducking his chin as he answered.

"What?" I plopped down into at chair at the table and gaped.

He blew out a breath. "Yeah. He came home from the picnic at our house to find her gone."

"Oh my God," Reese gasped. "And she left her baby there? Alone?"

I felt sick to my stomach. Pick had tried more than once to call home that day with no answer. Julian had probably been alone the entire time. "I wonder how long he was there by himself. Jesus, he's only four months old."

Mason shook his head. "I have no idea how long he was alone. And I'm pretty sure Pick doesn't even want to think about it. Gamble said he sounded pretty upset."

"I bet." I set my hand over my heart, and checked on my own kid, still wrapped up in her towel as she tried to kick it off.

I felt like crap. Pick had been here, talking to me, caring for me, while his stepson was being abandoned by his own mother. He probably never wanted to see me again.

Even as I had that thought, though, I blurted, "I'll babysit."

I'd make this up to him. Somehow.



PICK



I was still in a state of shock, anger, and heartbreak when someone knocked on my door early Monday morning. Even though Tris could definitely improve on her mothering skills, I hadn't thought she would actually do this. It still haunted me to remember how I'd found Fighter screaming in his swing, beating his fists in the air, his face red with anguish as I'd come through the doorway and found him home alone.

So many things could've happened to him. Just thinking about them made me physically sick to my stomach. My hands were shaking from fear. If I ever saw Tristy again, I was honestly afraid of what I might do to her. But how could she do this to him? Her own child.