Colton 911: Baby's Bodyguard. Lisa Childs
Читать онлайн книгу.
scrunched up his little face when he stared up at her. He’d been so fussy lately.
For her.
But not for Forrest Colton.
What the hell had the man done to him?
“Rae? Are you there? Are you okay?”
It wasn’t his deep voice rumbling in her ear as she pressed the cell phone into the crook of her shoulder and tried to dress while peering through the crack of her door. “Yes, Kenneth, I’m fine,” she assured her caller, who was one of the lawyers at the firm where she worked as a paralegal.
“Do you need me to come out there?”
“No,” she automatically replied. She’d been saying that to him a lot since she’d been hired at the firm—no to an offer of coffee or dinner. Not that he was harassing her. He’d made it clear that he was happily married and that his offers were only intended to make her feel welcome at the firm.
“I just wanted to be available in case any legal issues arise out of this search of your property,” he explained. “You’re one of the family here at Lukas, Jolley and Fitzsimmons.” He was more family than she was because he was related by marriage. His father-in-law was Fitzsimmons.
“I’m actually going to leave soon.” Even though this was her home, she didn’t want to stay here while Forrest Colton was on her property. “I’ll drop off Connor at day care and come into the office.”
Kenneth blew out a ragged breath of relief. “That’ll be good for you to get out of there.”
He’d called because he’d heard on his police scanner that the coroner and a crime-scene unit had been dispatched to her address. He used the scanner to drum up business for the firm—chasing ambulances.
“Yes,” she agreed. It would be good for her to get away from Forrest Colton. And to get him away from her child. “I’ll see you soon,” she said as she clicked off her cell phone.
While juggling the phone, she’d managed to replace her nightgown with a long summer dress. She’d even managed to rub some concealer over her dark circles and cover it up with a dusting of powder. A swipe of mascara across her lashes finished her makeup routine.
She stepped out of the bedroom and rushed into the kitchen. Forrest looked up from her son and focused on her face.
Did he notice the makeup? Did he think she’d put it on for him?
The heat of embarrassment rushed up now, probably flushing her face under that thin dusting of powder. “I had to take that call,” she told him.
“Was it your husband?” he asked.
A chortle slipped through her lips at the thought of her being married. “Not mine,” she said.
“Somebody else’s?” he asked.
She grimaced. “Don’t make it sound like that. He’s one of my colleagues. He heard the call and was concerned.”
Forrest’s brow furrowed. “How did he hear it?”
She shrugged. It wasn’t illegal to own a police scanner, but since starting law school, she’d already grown tired of the ambulance-chaser comments.
“What about you?” he asked. “Did you hear anything last night?”
“I already told you I hadn’t,” she reminded him. Then she pointed toward the baby, who’d actually fallen asleep now in Forrest’s arms. “He’s the only one who’s been making any noise around here at night.”
The detective looked down at the baby again, and his lips curved into a smile, which was quite a turnaround from the grimace of horror that had crossed his face when she had first handed him her son. “What’s his name?” he asked.
“Connor.”
He glanced up at her as if waiting for more.
So she added, “Lemmon.”
“You’re not married?” he asked.
“I thought I already established that,” she said. When she’d asked him to dance at that wedding.
She was old-fashioned enough that she wouldn’t have asked a single guy to dance if she was married. But apparently she wasn’t as old-fashioned as he was.
“You know you don’t have to be married to have a baby,” she said.
“The father didn’t want to marry you?”
Both outraged and offended, she gasped. Forrest Colton wasn’t just old-fashioned; he was a jerk. “The father doesn’t even know me.”
He gasped now.
And she laughed at the shock on his face.
Her son tensed briefly in Forrest’s arm, but he moved him in a rocking motion, and Connor settled back to sleep. How could the man soothe her son while he riled her up? She’d never met anyone who’d infuriated her as much as Forrest Colton did.
“I chose to have my son on my own,” she informed him. “I used a sperm donor.” And before he could jump to another unflattering assumption about her, she added, “From a sperm bank.”
“Oh,” he murmured.
Not everyone understood or appreciated what she’d done. But she didn’t care. She loved Connor so much—even when he kept her awake. She moved closer to Forrest and brushed a fingertip along Connor’s cheek. He was so perfect.
“You chose to be a single parent,” he murmured.
And she couldn’t tell if he approved or disapproved. But she didn’t give a damn what he thought anyway.
“He’s the only male I need or want in my life,” she informed Forrest, just like she’d told her friends a week ago. She didn’t want anyone to answer to, anyone to disappoint or abandon her.
“That’s too bad,” he said.
And she gasped with surprise yet again. Was he...interested in her after all? She glanced from Connor’s face to his, which was flushed now.
“I meant...because it would be safer for you and Connor if you weren’t out here alone,” he said quickly, as if he was worried she’d misunderstood him.
She sighed. “You sound like Bellamy and Maggie,” she admitted.
“They’re concerned about you, too?”
She nodded. And that had been before Forrest’s discovery in her backyard. She couldn’t imagine how much they would worry now. She was surprised that he was concerned, though.
Why?
He barely knew her. And if he was interested in her, he wouldn’t act like such a jerk. Maybe it was just the lawman in him that had him worried about her safety.
“Your friends are wise to worry about you being out here all by yourself,” he said.
“They’re my friends, so they should know better than anyone else does that I can take care of myself and my son without the help or protection of any man,” she informed him.
“I’m not saying you need a man,” Forrest told her. “I’m saying that you need someone, though. You’re training to be a lawyer, not a police officer.”
She tensed. “You really believe I’m in danger?”
He shrugged, which jostled the sleeping baby into opening one eye and peering up at the man holding him.
If she was in danger, Connor would be, as well. So she had to ask, “What do you think?”
“I think there’s a killer in Whisperwood,” he said. “So nobody’s safe.”
She reached for her son, taking him from the detective’s arm. When her fingers brushed across his muscular