bound hands and thrust them both lower, using all his strength to go under the hull, then kick them away just as the spinning prop whirred by.
In a second, the boat was gone and he swam Quinn up, sensing the panic in his body. As soon as he broke the surface he heard Maggie screaming, and he ripped the tape off Quinn’s mouth so he could gasp in air.
“Stay with me, Quinn,” he insisted, pulling the boy along. “Stay with me.”
Quinn nodded as Dan swam them to the back of the boat. Maggie flipped the lock on the gate of a small diving platform and reached down, dragging Quinn up as Dan gave him a mighty push to the deck.
As the other boat disappeared into the darkness, Quinn turned to Dan in gratitude, the water dripping down his face mixing with his tears.
Dan dropped to his knees, put his arms out, and hugged his son for the first time.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MAGGIE TURNED OUT the bedside table light and kissed Quinn’s smooth cheek, whispering good night. She’d been sitting with him for the past hour, soothing him and answering his questions as best as she could.
The one thing she’d strived to teach her son was to be honest, and she felt like the biggest hypocrite on earth. But right now, in this mental state, at this time of night, with so much unknown, the best she could do was assure him that he was safe and that she would do whatever was necessary to keep those men away from him.
She stepped into the hall, glancing toward the kitchen. Dan stood in the soft stove light, wearing nothing but camouflage drawstring pants slung low enough to reveal every muscle down to his hips. He must have changed out of his wet clothes and showered, because his hair looked damp. Stone still, he stared out the window, a mug poised inches from his mouth.
He turned as he heard her approach, his eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched.
“How is he?”
“Asleep. Confused. Scared out of his mind.” She went to the coffeepot and grabbed a mug from the cup tree Quinn had made for her in summer camp about ten years ago.
She touched the bear’s brown head, imagined little fingers painting it just for her, and swallowed a lump. She’d almost lost him.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “You saved his life.”
She kept her gaze on the coffee as she poured a cup and dipped the spoon into the sugar bowl. Her hands were steady, but she jumped at Dan’s touch on her shoulders, and spilled half the teaspoon on the counter.
“Look at me,” he demanded, adding some pressure.
She exhaled softly, set the spoon down, and let herself be turned around. The scent of soap and skin was overwhelming this close, as was the sight of his unshaven face, his parted lips. She looked up to meet his gaze and tried to step back from the sheer force of it, but the counter hit her hips.
“Did you tell him?” he asked.
“No. I need some time to get used to the idea first. It’s not just something you blurt out after the kid just went through the scariest ordeal of his life. Give me time.”
“Of course.”
She put her fingertips on his hard chest to push him away, but he didn’t move and her hands barely dented the solid muscles underneath. “I need to get used to the idea that you’re here. And alive. I buried you a long time ago.”
He stepped back, but not very far. “Your cell phone rang,” he said, pointing to the table. “A text, I think.”
She reached for it and as she did, he snagged her arm, his hand warm as it closed over her skin. “By the way, you drive a mean boat.”
They held each other’s gaze for a long moment. “Smitty taught me,” she said. “He did a lot of things for me. He took me in when I was pregnant and broke. He gave me a home. He loved me. He married me. And he raised my son as though he were his own. He made a lot of mistakes and wasn’t always the man I wanted him to be, but he was Quinn’s father in every way but biological. Don’t forget that.”
“All I said was that you drove well.”
She slipped out of his grasp and picked up the phone, thumbing to the text.
You have a fortune I want. Let’s make a deal. She stared at the message, frowning, then read the