Page 22

I take a sip of my coffee while watching their interaction. This man is the best thing that’s happened to us in a long time.

They set their load on the porch and go back for another load. When they get back to the van, Sabre pulls out a clipboard and hands it to Noah. “Every box that comes off that truck has a serial number. Your job is to check each serial number against the list and let us know if anything is missing. Can you do that, buddy?”

Noah perks up. “Yeah, I’m good with numbers.”

Sabre chuckles. “Well, I’m glad one of us is.”

Each brother holds up his box for Noah to check it against the list before carrying it up to our front porch.

I never would have envisioned my son as an inventory control specialist, but he’s doing a bang-up job of it this morning.

Noah takes his job seriously, too. For the next hour, I watch my son obsessively count window sensors, locks, cameras, support brackets, and spools of wiring. Sabre and the other men from his club check in with him about the list like co-workers. They never talk down to him and Noah looks proud as anything to be treated like a grown up.

The work is slow and tedious. Zen, who seems to be in charge of all things tech, is linking the security software to our system. He doesn’t look up from his keyboard when I walk past. Within moments, the alerts Zen set up kick in. I get an alert on my phone, notifying me of who was assigned permission to view my security feed. It’s the Legion Security office, Sabre, and me, in that order.

Sabre wires the security devices in Noah’s room personally. I walk by and find them talking as Sabre works on securing a sensor to the frame of Noah’s window while Noah watches wide-eyed from the bed.

Noah asks cautiously, “So if anybody opens the window, the sensor will pick up on it and send an alert to the security system, right?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly the way it works. Everybody will get an alert within a few seconds, including your mom, my whole office, and me.”

Noah is quiet for a few seconds before asking, “Would it pick up my dad if he tried to climb through my window?”

I freeze, trying to figure out why my son asked that question. I’ve never talked to Noah about the abuse his father put me through. Why would he be worried about his father breaking into our house?

Sabre doesn’t miss a beat, replying casually, “This system doesn’t know or care who anybody is. It detects motion. It could be a stranger, your dad, a friend, or a raccoon. If somebody moves, hits, or bumps into the window hard enough, it sets the alarm off.”

“Really? Even a raccoon?” Noah asks, clearly astonished.

Sabre’s voice turns playful. “Especially a raccoon, kid. Never trust an animal with a mask.”

Noah laughs, and the conversation moves on effortlessly. But I carry the conversation around in my mind for a long time, thinking that maybe my son overheard me talking about this with Aunt Carol or, heaven forbid, Sabre.

But at lunch, Noah nudges his food around on his plate before asking, “Mom, where did you say my dad lives?”

I reply, “He lives far away, bug. He can’t be with us, and that’s not going to change. I’m sorry if that’s not what you want to hear.”

He stuffs a bite of chicken into his mouth and shrugs. “I was just curious, that’s all.”

I frown at him, realizing he’s been asking more and more questions about his dad lately. I think he’s getting to that age when boys need a father figure to look up to.

In the early afternoon, Sabre walks me through how to operate the alarm panel by the front door. That is how I end up standing with my back pressed against his chest while he reaches over my shoulder to push buttons on the keypad. We’re close enough that it feels almost like being embraced from behind, close enough that I can feel the warmth coming off him.

“The code is six digits. We’re assigning one to you, another to Carol, and Noah already memorized his code, because he’s smart that way.”

I glance over my shoulder and give him a small smile. “He’s a smart kid.”

Jerking his chin back towards the keypad, he continues showing me how to use it. “So, you enter your code and then press this key to arm it and this one to disarm it.” He gently covers my hand with his and guides my fingers through the sequence. When he’s finished, his hand drops away. “Now, you try it.”

I feel him drop a tiny kiss onto the back of my neck, and my body goes wild with pleasure.

“Isn’t flirting with a client unprofessional?” I ask in a teasing tone.

“You’re not technically a client until money changes hands. Right now, you’re just a woman I put cameras up for.”

“I intend to pay for the work your team did, Sabre.”

He drops another light kiss onto the back of my neck, this time swiping his tongue along my skin. “You’ll have to take that up with Tex. I’m just gonna enjoy your gratitude for as long as it lasts.”