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“Oh God. Please don’t remind me about that,” I said, covering my face with my hands.
“Don’t remind you? I’mnevergoing to let you forget,” he laughed, earning the glare that I shot him after that.
“It’s not my fault you never told me you had a kid!”
“But why would you even think that?!”
“Uh, because she’s tall and gorgeous and I saw you kiss her?”
“On the forehead, like thebabyshe is,” he argued, and I shook my head.
“Forehead kisses aren’t just for babies.”
He shrugged. “But she is, indeed, a baby. She’sbarely21. I’m 43, Monica.”
“That certainly didn’t stop my husband.”
“I’m not your husband. Not remotely the same kind of man.”
I opened my mouth, intending to argue that he didn’t even know Kellen, and therefore had no idea what kind of man he was, but… that wasn’t true. He knewplentyabout Kellen. It was just that he only recently knew his name.
“Hey,” I started, ready to shift the subject away from Kellen and the painful memories that line of conversation would undoubtedly bring. “You realize I’ve learned more about you today than in all our years of knowing each other?”
“Not true,” Wick countered, as he turned into the neatly manicured driveway of a gated community. “You know already knew plenty aboutme. Now you’re just in my business.”
“No I’mnot!” I laughed. “You’re the one being all chatty,” I told him as he keyed in a code that opened the gate, then drove through. “Actually, now that I think about it… I’m pretty sure I dominated our phone conversations. I’ve done so much unloading on you, but I’m not sure you’ve ever done that with me.”
“Maybe our needs were just different? You needed to talk, and… I don’t know. Maybe I needed to listen? I’m not sure what it was, but I do know I greatly enjoyed our conversations. I like listening to you.”
I scoffed. “I’m pretty sure it’sverylonely on the island of men wholikelistening to women go on and on about their emotions and other trifles.”
“I’m okay with that. I don’t like being grouped with the rest of these motherfuckers anyway,” he said, then turned the car off after he’d pulled into the driveway of a gray-bricked craftsman style home. “Let’s get you inside.”
I looked at the house, then back at him. “Wait…thisis your house?”
“Yes,” he said simply, then climbed out of the SUV, coming around to my side to open the door. “Why do you sound so surprised?”
I stepped out, looking around at the neatly polished neighborhood, with houses of all different styles that somehow still blended to create picture-perfect harmony. “I don’t know, I just expected something more… rugged.”
Wick laughed as he easily hefted my heavy suitcases out of the cargo hold, sitting them down in the driveway so that he could close the door. “Couldn’t raise a kid in a bachelor pad, you know?”
“Right,” I nodded. “I guess I have to get used to seeing you as a dad now.”
He smirked as he grabbed the suitcases, carting them past me toward the door. “As long as you remember that I’mKayla’sfather. Not yours.”
I bit my lip to keep my expression from telling on me as I tried to discern the meaning behind that statement. Was he telling me not to expect to be taken care of, or reminding me that, even in his current role of protector, he wasstilla man. A man who, now that he knew my face, had seen pretty much every inch of me. Maybe reminding me that things between us weren’t exactly platonic.
Not that I was in any danger of forgetting.
Inside Wick’s home, I learned that my assumptions about his living space were way,wayoff base, especially after seeing the outside of the house. I’d imagined him in a sleek loft apartment in the city, with an expensive view, but this was nothing like that. The spacious, modern kitchen was swoon-worthy, and based on the well-worn pots and pans hanging over the island, actually got used. The pool, patio, and barbecue pit made me think of Saturday dinners filled with friends and laughter. The living room was full of comfortable seating that made it obvious that the space was functional.
There was nothing rugged, or specifically masculine about it. It was just… ahome.
Well… almost.
I took mental notes as he explained different security functions of the house – bullet-proof glass windows, triple-bolted outer doors, panic buttons and hidden weapons caches, in addition to the state-of-the-art security system that had a tiered hierarchy of contacts that made my head swim.
“And,” Wick added, “I have my neighbors keeping an eye out for anything out of place. This neighborhood has quite a few retired agents, but next door in particular, the house with the teal door – those are friends. Harrison and Savannah. If foranyreason something happens here, and you need to get out of the house, you go straight there. But, that’s pretty unlikely. The safest bet is the panic room on your end of the house.”
