Strategic Engagement (Wingmen Warriors #5)
Page 17"Gotta go."
Ah, hell. He didn't even want to check out that bed. His revamped budget would have to stretch to cleaning help as well as a nanny.
Daniel sidestepped discarded pj's and performed a military pivot round the corner into the bathroom. He plopped Austin on the tile floor.
In front of the neon-green plastic attachment to the john.
God. His bachelor digs now sported a freaking training seat. He liked the kid and all. Even Trey wasn't a major pain in the ass anymore, his snotty attitude having downgraded to minor pain in the ass, with the occasional quip that actually had Daniel laughing the minute the kid left the room.
He was managing. Doing okay. But that training seat pushed it.
Austin climbed up the step and took aim. Daniel leaned against the doorjamb and waited. And waited. Man, the kid was going like a racehorse. Daniel snagged the footed pj's off the hall carpet along with the pull-up.
Huh?
Well, hell. The thing was dry.
He spun back to Austin. "Way to go, bud."
"Oo-rah." With a big-toothed grin, Austin reached over the sink and pumped purple soap from a dinosaur dispenser.
The spare room door cracked open, Trey stepping out, his yawn closing into a frown. Big surprise. Not. "Wanna hold the party down? Some of us are trying to sleep."
Austin's smile faltered, and Daniel vowed he'd slip peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches in the kid's lunch for a week if Trey didn't ditch the attitude at light speed.
"We're celebrating Austin staying dry through the night. And so should you, pal, since Austin sleeps on the top bunk."
A grin tugged Trey's somber face. He held up a high-five palm.
Austin launched off the footstool and smacked his brother's hand, shouting, "Oo-rah!"
"Hoo-ya," Trey parried with the Navy grunt, anything other than a nod to the Air Force.
Yesterday Trey had chanted an Army cadence as he circled the pool. The day before that he'd taped a computer printout of the "Marine Hymn" to Daniel's bag of licorice—a bag that was suspiciously light.
Trey let loose another hoo-ya. Daniel snorted on a chuckle. Trey turned, a wicked glint sparking his brown eyes. The way would never be easy with this kid, but at least Trey had found his sense of humor.
Guilt bit over how he'd kept her up late more than once grilling her about where she'd go. What she'd do. Of course, now he wondered if maybe she did have a plan and just didn't care to share it with him.
"Pancakes?" Austin cheered, pushing his head through his wrong-side-out T-shirt.
"IHOP?" Trey echoed with a shrug and an almost disguised grin. "Yeah, I guess that's okay, even if it is a regular hangout for you Chair Force dudes."
"Don't push your luck, kid." He thumped Trey in the stomach with his shoes.
Eyes well off the master bedroom door, Daniel charged down the hall. Leave a note and let her sleep. He wasn't up for resisting a sleep-mussed Mary Elise, anyway.
She might be stubborn, but so was he, and he had reinforcements. Each day that passed, it was obvious she loved Trey and Austin. The boys were his trump card for convincing her to stay.
He locked the front door while his brothers sprinted toward Darcy Renshaw's Firebird easing into her parking spot after her night flight. The boys launched at her as she stepped out. She had to be dead on her feet but didn't wince. He owed Wren and Max more than he could repay.
Daniel finished bolting the door and turned to thumb the remote on the truck lock. "Come on, fellas," he called, striding down the walkway past the mailboxes. "Leave Wren alone so she can go to sleep. Let's get a move on, or I'm ordering Trey chocolate chip pancakes."
"Eww!" Trey's exaggerated gag drifted across the lot.
"You're talking to a man who ate rabbit eyeballs in survival training. I'm not impressed with your bellyaching about the menu, kid."
When Trey didn't snap a ready comeback, Daniel glanced over his shoulder. Wren was long gone, Trey and Austin now standing with some businessman, tie flapping in the breeze over his shoulder.
Alarms jangled in his head. Not the work instincts he'd come to expect and trust, but a strange new protectiveness. Didn't schools teach kids not to talk to strangers?
Daniel charged forward. "Come on, boys. Now."
Trey jogged toward him, dragging Austin by one hand. "That man was just asking about the condos, said he's thinking about moving here."
"Yeah, well, the guy's outta luck, then." He knew damned well there weren't any condos available since he'd already called to check that out for himself in the midst of a stupid whim thinking maybe he could coerce Mary Elise into staying a few doors down.
Just to be close to the boys, of course. And because he wanted to help her as much as she'd helped him. Not because he damn well couldn't stomach the thought of her long-legged stride walking out of his life.
Daniel scooped Austin up under one arm and "flew" him to the truck. "We'll talk about staying away from strangers some more over your milk, kid."
Austin stretched his arms out, airplane-style. "Man's got funny birds on his tie."
"Yeah, yeah." Daniel swung Austin upright and snapped him into the car seat with a newfound skill.
He popped open the glove compartment and snagged a pad and pencil, jotting the license plate number on the guy's Mercedes. He'd get Spike to run the number when he checked in about the answering machine tape.
Daniel shifted the truck into reverse and glanced over his shoulder. Two pairs of brown eyes stared back at him.
Those eyes filled with trust, albeit begrudging on Trey's part, until something twisted inside Daniel. He'd been so damned busy thinking about how he would do his duty and take care of them, he'd never even seen it coming.
These weren't trump cards.
They were his brothers, his blood, not just some burdensome responsibility. They needed more from him than a set of bunk beds and a ride to school. God, if he felt this much for the two runts after only a week…
As much as he wanted to break through whatever walls Mary Elise had erected between them, if he screwed up again—a likely scenario—two sets of trusting brown eyes would pay as well. A prospect a helluva lot more daunting than the addition of a neon-green training seat to his bachelor condo.
Chapter 10
Mary Elise tugged the T-shirt over her knees, chin resting on her folded arms, and listened to the door slam as Daniel and the boys headed out for breakfast. The scent of bay rum—of Danny—drifted up from the rumpled sheets where she'd lain awake, too aware of him with every breath.
As if sleeping in the soft warmth of his shirt wasn't tempting enough. Almost as tempting as the fading echo of his laughter mingled with Austin's giggles and a repeat hoo-ya from Trey.She was so damned proud of Danny.
He'd pulled it together with his brothers. Sure, they'd only been together about a week, and no doubt more bumps would jostle them in the future. Trey was still prickly, but Daniel had his number. Austin would adjust faster because of his youth. The rest would sort out, now that they'd begun to forge a family unit.
They didn't need her anymore. Her suitcase waited in a corner, calling to he packed.
She'd known he could manage—smart, determined, with a heart bigger and softer than he realized. She worried more about him submerging his own needs. The boys would be fine. But what about Daniel? The friend inside her wanted to be the one to take care of him in what would still be an ungodly stressful time.
The woman within her just flat-out wanted to take him. Her gaze gravitated toward the half-open closet to Daniel's uniforms dangling across two-thirds of the space. How such neatly hung clothes could end up wrinkled within seconds of hitting his body defied logic.
But then, Daniel was as complex a puzzle as the artwork and toys he favored.
From the closet rod, the deep blue of a formal uniform gave way to the lighter blue shirts, shifted to splotchy green military camouflage, desert-tan cammo, then flight suits in both green and beige. All shapes of hats. Vests with canteens dangling and a scary-looking knife attached but sheathed in black leather. The Daniel who'd streaked grease paint on his face to jump a fence had turned his hobby into a profession.
Or perhaps it hadn't been a hobby, just a sense of direction from the cradle.
Pride hummed through her anew over the man he'd become. And, oh, my, was he ever a man. The heat of his kiss from the beach still tingled along her nerves. Tough not to think about it while she sat in his bed. Wanting him.
Mary Elise thunked her forehead against her hands folded over her knees. She could laze around feeling sorry for herself. Ick! Or she could shake off the blahs and get her butt in gear. Be satisfied that she had helped Danny build a strong foundation for a future with the boys in a few short days.
Get up, get a move on. And pretend her heart wasn't breaking in two.
She swung her feet over the edge of the bed and arched up to stretch out sore muscles, vowing to visit a clinic first thing in the morning. But after her mother's endless doctor appointments, live-in nurses, medicine bottles lining the kitchen windowsill, Mary Elise hated admitting to a physical weakness.
Prideful. Silly. Reckless. She could almost hear Danny ticking through her illogical reasoning.
Whipping the well-worn T-shirt over her head, she padded to his master bathroom. For the last time. Once Daniel and the boys returned, she would have to say her goodbyes.
The shower spray hit her with stinging needles of heat.
Stay.
Danny's words from the beach rolled over her in a tidal wave. Give their friendship another chance.
Friendship? Thoughts of him walking around the condo looking for Austin's favorite blanket while she stood n**ed in the shower led her mind to thoughts far from friendlike.
Honestly, she wanted to stay. And, yes, she even wanted to try again. The friendship. Maybe even more. The past days with Danny and the boys had been … everything.
Mary Elise snagged her bottle of shampoo from beside Daniel's. How could she escape the fact that she had to leave? To stay another day would be selfish and not worth the risk. Life seemed to be telling her in a hundred different ways that Kent was still out there.
Returning to the States had brought old memories forward. Stronger. Which likely heightened her emotions to super-sensitivity. Or perhaps her subconscious was tormenting her so she wouldn't be tempted to stay.
And that pissed her off.
Her hands slowed in working the shampoo through her hair. Where was the fear? The ache over Kent's betrayal? All she could feel was a stinging anger like soap in her eyes over all Kent had taken from her.
Well damn. She'd gained something from the past days too.
Seeing herself through Danny's eyes reminded her how far she'd strayed from her essential self. First, losing pieces of her will through Kent's subtle control, then later by hiding while she licked her wounds.
Strength seeped into her with each waft of steam carrying the lingering scent of Daniel's aftershave. Yes, she had to leave. She accepted that. But she didn't have to cower.
She would fight back, scavenge for a plan to reclaim her life. Plans were in short supply at the moment, beyond saving to finance a private detective, but already the renewed strength fueled determination. How odd that until a few days ago she hadn't realized just how much had been stolen from her.