She didn’t move until he opened the door. Saylor launched herself out of the seat and wrapped herself around him. Max carried her to the door into the kitchen. Before opening it, he stopped and checked his safeguard.
“Saylor, every time I leave my house, I leave an indicator guarding the door to make sure no one has entered. Do you see that hair stretched across the seam of the door?”
She turned to look as he instructed and nodded. Her gaze searched his face as he felt her tremble against him.
“I’ve never had anyone break in here, but I’m trained to make sure everything is safe. You’re protected here at the highest level.”
Her shaking calmed, and she whispered, “Thank you.”
“Come on, little girl. Let’s go inside.”
Max carried her into the automatically lit interior and sat down on the couch. He rubbed her back reassuringly, and she relaxed against him. Her head rested on his shoulder. Max could feel the puff of her breath against his skin.
Now in the stillness of his home, Max struggled to contain his Daddy side. She wasn’t his little girl. He didn’t wish to create a bigger problem for her by claiming her without Saylor choosing him. He warned himself to move slowly.
“Are you ready to talk, Saylor?”
She shook her head and remained silent as she tensed, waiting for him to insist.
“Okay. You let me know when you wish to talk,” Max told her gently. Holding her now would make letting her go harder in the future, but he’d take time with her on any basis.God, you’ve got it bad.
His hands stilled. Max held her gently, allowing her to find refuge in his arms. After several minutes, she relaxed again. A half-hour later, she fell asleep.
Moving carefully, Max eased his phone from his pocket and sent a message to Hank.
Hey, I need a favor. Would you grab Koa and go grab my truck from campus? It’s parked on State Street in front of the Arts building. The door code is 2429. I have a hidden key in a metal box magnetically attached to the underside of the driver’s seat. Drop it off in my driveway. Koa’s little girl is at the station for the evening. Drag him out of bed.
Almost immediately, he got a thumbs-up in response and then a dancing emoji. Max returned a baby bottle symbol. Clapping hands answered.
Hank had checked to make sure Max was mobile and not in trouble. When Max replied, letting him know he’d found his little girl, Hank had celebrated. Max would clue him in later that the situation had complications. Of all his team, Hank understood how precarious a daddy’s role could be. Max closed his eyes, sending a plea out into the universe to allow this invisible bond he already felt between himself and Saylor to be permanent.
On a hunch, he searched Saylor’s name on the internet.
CHAPTER 4
Saylor blinked her eyes open, wondering why she’d left the lights on. She jerked back at the sight of the square jaw that filled her view. The events of the night flooded back into her mind. Max’s deep brown eyes held concern as he studied her. Self-remorse and anger that she’d reacted so strangely made her drop her gaze from his.
She immediately apologized. “Max, I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” he answered bluntly. “How are you feeling?”
His unflappable response calmed the panic inside her slightly. “Like an absolute idiot. I don’t suppose you’d forget this all happened? I could try to get another teacher to swap classes with me,” she blurted.
“You will not do that, Saylor. There’s no need for you to run away. Can you tell me what happened?” he asked and brushed her hair away from her face.
“It’s so stupid. I should be over this by now.”
“Over what, little girl?”
She ignored the endearment. Surely, he didn’t mean it like aLittlegirl. Max was so large everyone was smaller than he was. “I was at the bank a few months ago and two men raced inside. They had guns and made everyone get on the floor.”
“That sounds scary. Did you get hurt?” he asked, running his hands over her shoulders down to her arms as if he were checking for injuries.
“No. Just my nerves,” she said, trying to make light of the terror she’d experienced that day.
“That’s enough. Have you talked to someone?” he asked. “A professional to help you recover from the scare?”
“No. At some point, my mind will figure out that I’m fine and stop panicking. I wish it would happen soon. Thank goodness the supervisor of the art department didn’t see me flip out. Could I ask you not to report me? I know that’s a big favor, and you don’t owe me anything.”
