this is for? Her? All the business in the world won’t mean much if you don’t have anyone to share it with.”
“She’ll understand when she’s older,” he said, pulling off his socks and removing his belt. “Seriously. Can we do this later? I really don’t have time for it now.”
Annoyance flaring, Tara stepped closer to him and jabbed a finger at his chest. “Ass!”
“Excuse me?” A small muscle ticked in Clint’s cheek, his eyes flaring hot.
“You’re. Being. An. Ass.” She accentuated each word with a poke of her finger, for emphasis. “All your daughter wants is five minutes of your time to show you something she’s proud of and you can’t even give her that, can you? Some father you are.”
“Don’t you judge me,” he growled, inching closer. For once, the tension flaring between them wasn’t sensual at all. Honestly, the fight had been brewing for a while now for her, and damned if she was backing down now. Clint narrowed his eyes. “Besides, what do you know? A couple days babysitting hardly makes you an expert.”
“I don’t claim to be an expert, but my eyes work just fine, and I know what I’m seeing. When’s the last time you spent any meaningful time with her?” Tara tapped her stockinged toes against the hardwood to release some of her pent-up irritation before it exploded into a swift kick in his butt. “And I may not have a child, but I’ve been one and I know how it feels to be ignored.”
“Don’t go putting your past problems on us.”
“Don’t go calling me your babysitter. I’m your client. I’ve got important work to do around here too, you know.”
He snorted and pushed past her, heading for the bathroom. “Yeah, like taking pictures of flowers.”
“What’s wrong with flower photos?” She followed him into the bathroom, not caring if she was getting into his personal space. “And since when is being a bodyguard for hire so damned important, huh?”
“I’m not a bodyguard. I’m private security.” Clint jammed on the shower with more force than necessary. “And I don’t need you critiquing my every move. I’m doing the best I can here, okay?”
“Well, your best sucks. In fact, what are we even doing here? As far as I can tell, you’re no closer to finding out who was behind the attack at the rally than you were at the beginning. Meanwhile, Ashley and I are trapped here while you’re out there spinning your wheels. It’s not fair. To her or to me.”
Clint rounded on her, his expression dark. “You want us to go? Fine. We’ll go. The work’s done at my place anyway. Probably better for us to have our space anyway, considering how you really feel about it.”
“How I feel?” Tara gritted her teeth, fighting for patience and failing. “Don’t you dare turn this on me. None of this is my fault. And if you think running away is the answer then—”
“I’m not running away!” His shout reverberated off the bathroom walls, stopping her short. Before either of them could say another word, a loud crash sounded from down the hall and Clint stormed past her to throw open the bedroom door. “I can’t believe you just left her alone out here, Tara. She’s six. Ashley, honey? What’s going on?”
“She’s your responsibility, Clint, remember?” Tara said, following him. “And she was perfectly calm earlier, before you walked in, grouchy as hell, and—”
She stopped short at the end of the hall, blinking at the wide-open front door. “Uh, what’s happening?”
Clint cursed under his breath, his voice shifting from fury to panic in one second flat. “She’s gone, that’s what.” He charged for the front door. “Ashley? Honey? Where are you?”
Tara followed, calling the little girl’s name as she walked around the side of the house.
“Shit!” Clint came tearing around the corner from the backyard, pulling out his phone. “She’s gone.”
“Maybe she just went down the block to the park,” Tara said, that dread inside her bubbling up like lava in a volcano, threatening to erupt into a full-blown cataclysm. Even as she said those words, she couldn’t help feeling the weight of Clint’s accusations. Was this her fault? Had she dropped the ball where his daughter was concerned? Was she just not good enough, as she’d always feared?
“I’m going to go check,” Clint said jogging off toward the park, still in just his pants, his feet bare. “You stay here, in case she comes back.”
Too stunned to argue, Tara stood in the driveway, berating herself