The Enforcer - Kelli Callahan Page 0,61
are you talking about?” I roll my eyes. “Come on, tell me.”
“My mom keeps trying to set me up with this kid at church. Martin Huntington. She’s really into him and his family and keeps pushing us together for service projects, that kind of thing. But he’s not really my type.”
“What is your type?” I ask.
“Guys on motorcycles,” she replies.
I laugh. “How many men do you know who own a motorcycle?”
“Sadly, none. My mom doesn’t allow me to socialize with those kinds of people.” Sam sighs.
“You mean the exciting ones?” Holly asks, and Sam’s eyes take on a dreamy look.
“Yeah, I’ve got a thing for bad boys. Aren’t they the best?” Sam grins.
I smile, looking across the room and seeing my own bad boy, who has just entered the donation center I have been organizing over the last week.
“Hey gorgeous.” He slides his arm around my waist and jerks me forward, fixing his mouth on mine in a sizzling kiss that leaves me breathless.
“Wow,” Sam gawks, staring up at Jake as I push him away.
“Who’s your friend?’’ He wraps a long, leather-clad arm around my shoulder and stares down at Sam.
“Oh, hi,” Sam holds out her hand, “I’m Sam, Holly’s friend.”
Jake shakes her hand, hers all but disappearing in his grasp. “Nice to meet you,” he says, his voice gruff as I smack him on the shoulder.
“Be nice,” I order.
“What, I am being nice,” he says, a slow smile spreading across his handsome face.
“Be sociable,” I say, picking up a box and handing it to him.
“Do you have any idea what she’s talking about?” he asks Holly, who chuckles.
“No idea. She’s always getting on to me, too. It’s annoying, right?” Holly teases.
Gritting my teeth, I turn to my daughter. “Here, make yourself useful. Fix the boxes over there,” I say, pointing to the row of canned food donations.
She and Sam dash away, giggling like little girls. I sigh as he wraps his arms around me again, pulling me close.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“I am. It just all goes so quickly, you know. One minute, I’m walking around, potty training, kissing her boo-boo’s so she stops crying, and the next, she’s sassing me.”
“Time goes quickly,” he says, kissing my cheek. “What if,” he trails off.
“What?” I ask.
“What if we had one?”
“One what?” I drawl out.
“A kid,” he says, and my mouth drops open in surprise.
“You want to have a baby with me?” I ask.
“Yeah, one, maybe two if the first kid is really quiet.”
I laugh hard, leaning back against him. “Okay, yeah, let’s do it.”
“Right now?” He grins, and I swat him away.
“No, of course not,” I say, looking around and hoping that no one heard.
“Aw, why not?” he asks, his eyes dangerous.
“Because I’m busy helping the people I’ve wronged.”
“We’re in a homeless shelter,” he says, raising an eyebrow.
“Keen observation skills, Mr. Griffin.”
“I don’t understand what you’re doing here, let alone why it’s your fault,” he says, his brows drawing closer in confusion.
“I’m giving back to the community. These boxes are full of essentials: It’s mostly canned food, but I’ve got some clothing, too. The idea is to help the people who lost everything in the fire at your apartment complex.”
“It’s very thoughtful of you,” Jake says, a crooked grin crossing his face.
“Well, it’s the least I can do, considering whose fault it is.”
“It’s not your fault. I took you away from the hotel and brought you there,” Jake points out.
“I know, and I don’t think it’s your fault either. It was Michael and his brother’s fault.”
“Exactly,” he affirms, squeezing my shoulder. “So don’t beat yourself up about it.”
“I’m trying not to. Doing this makes me feel better, though,” I admit, looking around the room.
“Well, it got a lot of turnouts,” he says, looking around the room.
“It did, thank God. I was afraid I would have to buy up all the shelves in Walmart myself,” I laugh.
“I wouldn’t let you do that,” Jake says, turning me to face him and sliding his hands down to my bottom. “I recognize most of the faces here.”
“Jake,” I say, lifting his hands and placing them at my sides. “I have a reputation to uphold. Who do you know here?”
“I know everyone here.”
“Even the homeless?” I ask.
“Uhuh, oh, and except for him.” Jake points to a man in a fitted, white button-down shirt.
“Oh yes, that would be our new mayor,” I say, turning to Jake.
“He’s the new mayor?” Jake asks.
“Yep.”
“I didn’t realize we had an election.” Jake bites his lower lip, making me want a