He’d had the locksmith change every door and window in the house. On the counter in the kitchen were more keys than he’d ever need, but the security of knowing Shelly Armond couldn’t get in without breaking and entering was worth the hundreds of dollars he’d spent.
“Okay.” She smiled, the curve of her lips forced, the sadness in her eyes reminding him she had secrets he knew nothing about. “I’ll see you later.”
As he watched her walk back into the kitchen, he promised himself he’d convince her to eat dinner with them. He needed more time with her to see if he could get behind the wall she’d erected between them. If he were honest, he’d admit to it always being there. Something had caused her to strengthen it, possibly whatever had happened yesterday when she’d seen Mad in the yard.
Whatever the obstacle was that stopped her from saying yes to taking care of Mad, he’d remove it.
Jake knew she was the right choice. Everything in him told him Madman would be fine—more than fine—with Lory. He’d ignored the slight unease he’d felt yesterday morning when he’d left Mad with Shelly. He’d ignored the small unease he’d had when he’d left his son with the court-appointed supervisor the day Renee had taken Mad.
So many times in the past Jake hadn’t listened to his gut. He wouldn’t do it again. From now on he’d take notice and make sure he took the necessary actions to keep Mad safe.
Closing gritty eyes, he hoped sleep would help.
* * *
Jake dragged the towel over his wet hair as he walked out of the bathroom into the room he shared with Mad.
He’d left Mad sleeping on the bed, the bedroom door closed so if he woke he couldn’t go anywhere except into the bathroom where Jake was showering.
But when he looked over the bed was empty. His gaze bounced around.
So was the room.
Panic, cold and sharp, shot though him, and he slammed his way out of the bedroom, the towel around his waist threatening to fall.
He slid along the hallway and into the kitchen, his heart pounding in his throat only to have the damn thing drop to his toes and stop altogether.
Through the glass door he could see Mad and Lory playing in the yard. The air rushed from his lungs so fast he almost deflated completely, almost ended up on the floor in a relieved pile of bones and flesh.
Gripping the counter, he dropped his head, pressed chin to bare chest, and tried to catch his breath. His heart raced once more, the pounding beating in his veins, his ears, his head. To his fear-soaked psyche, it seemed to be chanting failure, failure, failure.
He knew his reactions were a side effect of the last twenty-four hours, hell, probably the last year and a half. The anxiety laced with overwhelming belief that he couldn’t do this, couldn’t be responsible for the small boy they’d placed in his arms, seemed to get bigger and bigger, more debilitating with every fuckup he made.
He’d failed to protect Mad so many times. Right from the moment he’d slept with his best friend’s wife in a misguided attempt to share his grief with someone he thought had felt the same, he’d been fucking up.
It had to stop. He had to get control of himself and his life, had to accept the things he couldn’t control and do his best—fuck, more than his best—to be the father Mad deserved. One who didn’t allow the world to cripple him with fear.
First thing tomorrow he’d research some local therapists. The one he’d seen back in Monterey had helped him move past Mad’s abduction. It wouldn’t hurt to see one again. He wasn’t so mired in his tough-guy masculinity that he couldn’t seek out help for his mental health.
Especially when it meant he’d be a better father for Mad.
“Hey.” He looked up to see Lory carrying Mad inside, a sympathetic smile curling her lips, concern in her eyes. “He was banging on the door when I got here. I heard the shower running so thought we’d go outside and run off some of his energy while you cleaned up.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Fuck. She’d seen right though him. Seen his fear and immediately known he needed an explanation as to why his son wasn’t where he’d left him. A breeze blew through the back door, the cool air bringing goosebumps to his skin. He indicated behind him. “I’ll, um, get dressed.”
“Dinner is ready whenever you are. I made a cold chicken salad so you don’t have to worry about keeping it warm or heating it up.”
Offering a smile, he said, “Thanks.” Then he hurried back to his room for clothes.
He’d never been self-conscious of his nudity before. But standing there in front of Lory with only a towel on had him nervous in a way he’d never been. He couldn’t decide if it was because he was attracted to her and wanted her to like him or if it was the light blush that had filled her cheeks, the color going deeper the longer they stood there talking.
No point overthinking it. He had other things on his mind. Namely, figuring out a way to convince her to stay for dinner and then talking her into caring for Mad when he worked.
Jake thought he had a good chance of get away with the first. The second would take considerably more effort on his part. He’d have to finesse his argument. Pleading hadn’t worked. Although he hadn’t gotten down on his knees and begged.
He wouldn’t be above it either. Getting on his knees.
Fuck, he wanted to get on his knees in front of Lory for more than begging her to watch Mad.
