More Than Protect You (More Than Words #6.5) - Shayla Black Page 0,59

have to address the multitude of messages Douglas Lund has sent me since this morning, each more pissed off than the last. Clearly, he doesn’t like being ignored. My silence should have told him I have zero intention of letting him know where I’m secreting his daughter. His insistence makes me wonder if Lund orchestrated the angry mob and the intruder to make some fucked-up point. After all, how many others really know that both Nia and Evan are branches on Mandy’s complicated family tree?

By the time we reach the villa, Oliver is half asleep, so Mandy gives him a quick bath and a change, then sings him to sleep. I smile, listening from the hall. The deep love she’s expressing is something I want for the rest of our lives.

In my hand, my phone buzzes. Lund Senior. Again.

Last chance or I’m tearing up this check. Where is my daughter?

Mentally, I start composing a reply, but I can’t think of one that doesn’t start and end with four-letter words. I’ve always disliked entitled pricks who are convinced their money should buy my obedience. I don’t roll that way, and he can kiss my ass.

“You okay?” Mandy asks, suddenly right in front of me.

She finally seemed relaxed, even happy, this afternoon. I don’t want to burden her with this now. Her father isn’t something I can’t handle. If Mandy and I work everything out, he might be my father-in-law. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to pander to him. She will be my first responsibility and priority, so I’ll do whatever it takes to shield her from his bullying and his attempts to control her.

I shuttle my messages, darken my phone, and shove it in my pocket. Lund can fucking wait—and he can shove his check, too. That means I’ll have to delay opening the new range for an extra few months more than likely. The location might be rented by then. But somehow, I’ll work it out. Mandy is worth it. “Yeah. Oliver down?”

“He’s fighting sleep, but he’s exhausted. Playing takes it out of a kid.” She drags her fingers down my chest, straight to my belt buckle, curling her fingers around it and using it to pull me closer with a sly grin. “How about you? Are you exhausted, too, or…up for more?”

“Definitely up.” I drop a kiss onto her mouth, but the second we make contact it’s like sliding into a dizzying, euphoric high. Suddenly, everything is electric and vivid. I lose my head as I pin her to the wall. “Always up for you, baby.”

Mandy tilts her head back, allowing my lips to roam her so-soft neck. I feel the heady, heavy beat of her pulse. She winds her arms around me with a moan that torques up my desire. “Tanner…”

“Bedroom?”

Before she can answer, Oliver huffs and squeals, then breaks out crying.

Mandy sighs. “Not quite yet, but hold that thought. The last few days, he’s been fussier than usual, especially at night. I’m wondering if he’s getting his first molars.”

“Painful?”

“Apparently. Feel like pouring us some wine while I check on my little guy again?”

Not my first choice, but Oliver howls once more. Yeah, he’s not happy. “I suppose the needs of my penis can wait while you see to the needs of his gums.”

She laughs. “Poor baby. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

She lifts onto her tiptoes and gives me a lingering kiss. “I won’t be long. I promise.”

Reluctantly, we part. She heads back into the bedroom with a flirty glance over her shoulder. How did I get lucky enough to persuade such a gorgeous puzzle of a woman to like me in return? I don’t know, but I hope the like turns to more soon. If it does…I owe Trace. I make a mental note to buy him beers for the rest of his life.

After a quick trip to the kitchen, I pull the bottle of merlot off the quartz counter—not my first choice of drink, but Mandy likes it—and rummage around for a corkscrew. After a twist or two, followed by a soft pop, I uncork the bottle. A nearby cabinet produces a couple of wine glasses. I fill each and take them into the living room to wait. We’ll talk for a bit, make sure Oliver is nice and asleep, then…it’s on.

As I set the stems on the coffee table, I catch a blur of motion out of the corner of my eye. Movement. A person in dark