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Chapter One
Blythe had no idea what was coming for her that morning. It felt so normal—a morning like any other.
“Beckett, come eat your breakfast, sweetheart,” she called toward the living room, watching as her son bounded into the kitchen, a stuffed dog in one hand. The dog was a present from his grandmother—his latest favorite, and it was evident by the stains that already needed to be washed out. “Here you go. Breakfast,” she told him, patting the counter as he climbed up into his seat. “Set Scruffy down.”
She heard footsteps headed down the stairs as her husband came into view. He was adjusting his shirt as he grabbed a piece of toast and kissed her lips. After all their years together, he still managed to send butterflies through her stomach with just a look.
“You look beautiful,” he told her, his stubble scraping her skin as he cupped her ass and squeezed playfully.
She felt her face grow red, kissing him again and handing over the mug of coffee she already had poured for him. “Big day today?” she asked.
He took a sip of coffee, inhaling sharply as it burned his tongue.
“Big dayalways,” he said with a nod. “I’ve gotta meet with the client before we finish up the project. It’s looking like,” he paused to knock on wood, “we might actually finish up this one without incident.”
Blythe nodded, watching Beckett as he smeared a bit of jam from the corner of his mouth to his cheek with the back of his hand. “Beck, use a napkin please, baby.”
“I’m so proud of you,” she said, looking back at her husband. He shrugged. It wasn’t the first project he’d led, but it was still a significant one. And, though he wouldn’t brag on himself, she would happily brag for him. He’d worked his ass off for that promotion, and it was well deserved.
Crap,she thought as she heard a knock on the door. Who in the world could possibly be visiting so early in the morning on a Thursday? She rolled her eyes at the thought of some of the neighborhood moms who would already have a yoga class in by now. He furrowed his brow at her, and she knew he was thinking the same thing.
They loved their home, truly they did, but sometimes they both longed for the anonymity that the city had once given them. The place where they didn’t know anyone. The place where they wouldn’t be bothered by anyone.
She walked to the door, patting Beckett’s head, though he didn’t seem fazed by the interruption. She felt her husband’s hand on her back as they walked through the kitchen, then the living room, and into the foyer. She took a breath, in no way prepared for what would be waiting for her as she swung open the door.
The man in front of her was familiar. She recognized him instantly, though his face had aged significantly in just a few years. She sucked in a sharp breath, blinking heavily. What was happening? Her brain couldn’t compute.
Her husband, who seemed equally shocked to see their visitor, cleared his throat and lowered his voice.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
The visitor grimaced, clearly not happy to be there either. “I’m here to see my son.”
Chapter Two
SIX YEARS EARLIER
The masked man jerked the purse from her arm, not realizing it was thrown across her chest. He tried to run, practically dragging her as she attempted to pull the oversized purse back. It contained everything she owned—the only things of hers left in the world.
“Hey!” someone called from behind them, and she heard hurried footsteps headed their way. The mugger jerked, shoving his arm out and knocking her off her feet.
She fell to the ground with a thud, slamming her elbow onto the concrete and cursing. She saw her attacker running down the street, bag in hand, before turning left into the dark alley. She sighed heavily, feeling foolish and frustrated.
Day one in New York, and already she’d been mugged.Face it, her mother had been right. Small-town girls didn’t belong in the city. Suddenly, she felt a hand slide under her arm and tensed up. She’d forgotten all about the man who’d attempted to save her. His face was near her ear. “Whoa, there, you okay?” he asked. He tried to help her stand.
She nodded, looking up to see the man standing behind her. He was tall, dark, and incredibly handsome. Dark brown eyes, shaggy brown hair that nearly covered them, and a leather jacket that fit him loosely over his tight jeans and boots. “Um, thank you, yeah, I’m okay,” she said, dusting off the butt of her jeans as she stood.
He glanced at her elbow, wincing. “Ouch, that looks like it hurts,” he said, pointing to the blood dripping onto the pavement. She hadn’t realized she’d even been hurt until that moment, and suddenly the sharp pain ripped through her.
She nodded, holding her opposite sleeve under the wound. “Yeah, it does.”
He nodded his head in the opposite direction. “I live right around the corner. I can get that cleaned up if you want.”
She bit her lip, knowing it had to be a horrible decision. If she couldn’t go home with a strange man in Darlington, she surely shouldn’t be going home with a stranger in New York. But her arm hurt. And she was still a twenty-minute cab ride away from her aunt’s house. Which meant she’d have to walk through the streets, bleeding all over the place until she found a place to buy some gauze and medical tape. Add that to the fact that she was dead broke without a purse and he was insanely gorgeous, and you can understand why she followed him back.
Or…maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe she’d just lost that much blood.
Either way, within minutes, she was walking up the stairs to his apartment building. He turned around as they climbed the stairs, constantly checking on her. “You still okay?”
