Protecting Her Secret Son. Regan Black

they’d reached the house and he could change the subject gracefully. “The house is right here.”

      He parked in the spot reserved for the house he intended to turn into a big profit once they were done using it as a hideout.

      One of the calls he’d made from the Escape Club was to the staging service they used for open houses. He didn’t ask for the full treatment with all the mood and style bonus points, but he didn’t want them sleeping on the floor. Meals would still be a string of takeout menus and prepackaged options. That couldn’t be helped unless he stocked the kitchen with food and utensils. That kind of action felt too permanent. In his opinion, right now Shannon needed to believe this would all be over within a day or two.

      “We can’t stay here.” Her gaze roved up and down the street as they walked to the door. “We just finished this house last week.”

      It wasn’t as if he could take her to his place. He’d just moved into another renovation site and the place was a dusty construction zone. “The stagers will be here any minute so we’ll have furniture,” he said.

      “That’s not the point. You need to get it on the market.”

      He opened the door, nudged her inside. “It will go on the market soon enough.” A few days, or even a week, wouldn’t make a real dent in his bottom line. This was one property where the investment risk was all on his shoulders, though she didn’t need to know that. He didn’t mind putting off the listing for her sake. Her safety was more important to him than the profit.

      He told himself he’d do the same for any employee and nearly laughed out loud. He considered the core of his crew friends, though Shannon was different. He wanted something more from her, and had for a long time.

      Smothering his attraction for her was going to be tough enough in a neutral environment.

      * * *

      Shannon turned a slow circle, taking in the details. Ed had moved her to another job and she hadn’t seen this house completely finished until today. It was sleek and modern and some happy buyer would snap it up in a hurry.

      “This is a bad idea.” Her voice bounced around the empty space. Real estate agents often claimed the hollow effect put off potential buyers, but to her ear it signaled a wealth of potential.

      “How so?”

      She shrugged, searching for the words to explain. Being in her house without Aiden, wondering if she’d ever see him playing with his trucks again had been miserable. Being away from the home she’d made didn’t bring her any relief. “What if he gets away and tried to come home?”

      Daniel opened his mouth and snapped it shut, his vivid blue gaze sliding away from her.

      She knew what he was trying not to say. “That’s a mother’s fantasy talking, I know it. He’s only four and they had hours to get him out of the city before we knew he’d been taken. We have no leads.” She shoved at her hair. “I know.”

      “No leads yet,” Daniel said. “You have to believe you’ll see him again. That’s your primary task right now.”

      She did believe. She did, but doubt was a dark, persistent undercurrent dogging her every thought. Doubt and dread. “I believe.” She curled and flexed her fingers, made herself say the words again. “It’s this helpless feeling I don’t know how to cope with.”

      “Kidnappers prey on that, use it against loved ones to get their way. Your son is still in the city and you’ll get him back.”

      “You don’t know that,” she said.

      “You don’t know I’m wrong.”

      “Fair enough.” She wandered through the kitchen, ran her fingers across the smooth quartz countertops. “We can’t stay here. If you’re paying to stage it, you need to list it.”

      His dark eyebrows dipped low as he scowled at her. “Have you been talking to my father?”

      “Not since last month,” she replied, moving around the island and down the hallway. “I didn’t agree when Ed installed the bead board. It works.”

      “That was my call,” Daniel said. “No one liked it on paper. Now back up a second. Exactly when and why were you talking with my dad?”

      She faced him. His bewilderment gave her a moment’s distraction from the pain squeezing her heart like a vise. “You do remember I work for him?”

      Only for a bit longer, though. If Bradley was behind the kidnapping, she’d have to move on as soon as she got Aiden back. “He signs my paycheck,” she reminded him. “He comes around and checks in with each of us at least once during a project.”

      “No, he leaves that to his managers,” Daniel insisted. “Especially on jobs like this one, jobs I choose.”

      She tilted her head, startled by his outburst. “I really thought you two got along.”

      “We do,” he said through clenched teeth. “We didn’t see eye to eye on the timing of the charity house, that’s all.”

      He was genuinely upset. It seemed she was wrecking his day right and left. “I got the impression he wasn’t happy you fronted so much of the financial responsibility there. I’m sure he’ll be pleased with the positive publicity for Jennings.”

      “Yeah, he will.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “And I didn’t realize he was snooping around the projects on my slate.”

      “Not snooping, taking an interest.”

      Daniel snorted in obvious disagreement.

      She let the tender subject go. Walking through the rest of the house, envisioning how she and Aiden might fit in. The mental exercise always kept her in the right frame of mind, happy and eager to do her best for the eventual homeowner.

      “Getting hired full time with Jennings was the best thing that happened to me after Aiden was born,” she said.

      “Did Dad hire you?”

      “Not directly.”

      Her mind drifted back to those first months in Philly, juggling the hours at the tile supply store with her waitressing job. Banking her tips, her back and feet aching more each week as her pregnancy progressed, she’d lost more than one night’s sleep wondering what she’d do after she delivered.

      “Ed would come by the diner where I worked with the lunch order at least once a week and we’d talk while he waited. I had some ideas for updating my place, and he gave me some advice as I cleared each project with the landlord. About a week before I delivered, he asked if I was interested in picking up some extra cash doing touch-up work after the baby came. One thing led to another.”

      She rolled her shoulders. As soon as she had Aiden back again, her past would shove them into another new start. Would she be as lucky to find good work when she found her next place? She had her emergency fund and a decent savings built up. She supposed how long the money lasted would depend on where she ended up. She made a mental note to start researching the most affordable cities nearby.

      “That was a Victorian remodel,” he said. “You had the patience of a saint, painting that detail work.”

      She smiled. “Aiden was about a month old. I was going a little stir crazy alone in the house. Ed saved my sanity. Aiden napped in his car seat through most of that job.” It was bittersweet, thinking of those days, full of such pure relief and endless joy that she was a mother, raising her son her way. “The fresh air put him to sleep every time.”

      “Ed was smart to bring you on. You did great work on that job. And every job since.”

      “Thanks.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about him taking such notice of her particular efforts. She’d noticed him, of course, and for several reasons that were far less professional. “I’d ask for a reference for when I leave, but I couldn’t use it.”