He turned to me, leaned into his forearms on the bar and his gaze leveled on mine. I instantly forgot what I needed to get straight when I started drowning in the depths of his soulful brown eyes.

“These are groceries,” he dipped his head to the bags. “The kids told me what they liked to have around the house and I got some shit I figured you’d need.”

“Mitch –”

He kept talking. “Colorado law says kids need to be in car seats until they’re eight.” He tilted his head behind him. “That’s for Billie. Got an extra one for my truck.”

An extra one for his truck?

I didn’t get a chance to ask, Mitch kept speaking. “You need to give me your numbers and you need to get your phone to program mine.”

“Mitch –”

He pulled out his phone and talked over me. “Get your phone, Mara.”

“Mitch –”

“Get your phone.”

“Mitch!”

Suddenly, he reached his long arm out, caught my wrist and used it to pull me forward. This made me lean across the counter toward the bar attached to it and he was leaning across the bar toward the counter where I was. Then his hand slid down my wrist and his fingers closed around mine.

“Sweetheart, get your phone.”

I swallowed then whispered, “Um…you’re being very cool and I really appreciate it but, uh –”

“Get your phone.”

“Mitch, I appreciate it but this isn’t your problem. You can’t buy the kids –”

“Mara, phone.”

I tried to pull my fingers from his, his only tightened so I gave up and said softly, “I’m not comfortable with –”

He moved around the bar, my arm moving with him as he did this because he didn’t let my hand go. Suddenly he was in my space, our arms bent, our hands pressed to his chest and his other arm was around my waist. This meant he was pressed to me, I was pressed to him and our faces were super close.

“Mara, baby, get…your…phone,” he ordered gently.

“’Kay,” I whispered because, really, what else could I do?

He let me go. I got my phone. He programmed my numbers in his then he programmed his numbers in mine. When he was done he called out to the kids to tell them he was going and they raced from wherever they were in the apartment to say good-bye. He lifted Billie up and kissed her cheek which made her giggle. He shook Billy’s hand solemnly which made Billy’s chest puff out and his shoulders straighten.

Then he opened the door, looked at me but said to the kids, “See you guys tomorrow.”

Tomorrow?

Before I could ask, I was staring at a closed door.

“I like him!” Billie shouted. “He’s nice and he bought me butterflies and flowers!”

I liked him too. In fact, I was back to loving him even though he thought I had my head up my ass.

He wasn’t just a nice guy. He was a really, freaking great one.

When he wasn’t being a jerk or scary, of course.

I was in trouble.

The rest of the evening was taken up with laundry, folding laundry and me trying to get the kids sorted. Mitch bought Billy more than jeans. He bought him three pairs of jeans and also bought him some t-shirts and a baseball mitt. Billie’s flower t-shirt and jeans skirt with cute pink ruffle was only the favorite of the three outfits Mitch bought her. It was her favorite because it was the cutest and girliest but only by a small margin. There were also two more plastic cards filled with girlie hair shit and a tiny, fluffy pink teddy bear.

Yeah, I was back to loving him.

Crap.

It took awhile to get to sleep. Not only because I was used to sleeping alone and having the whole bed to myself. The entire day, and every encounter I’d had with Detective Mitch Lawson, was dancing in my head. These thoughts alternated with Bill threatening me and neither were conducive to peace of mind.

Finally, I slept. Which brought me to now.

I did my bathroom thing, went to the kitchen, made a pot of coffee, had a shower and did my after shower thing. Then I got Billy up so he could take a shower while I did my makeup thing. Then I got Billie up so she could take a shower in my shower while I kept my eye on her and did my hair drying thing. We had a drama when Billie changed her mind about which was her favorite new outfit that she wanted to wear that day. Then she changed it again after she’d made up her mind which necessitated her changing her outfit.

We finally had that sorted and I was in the kitchen, the kids on the stools opposite me with glasses of milk in front of them. I was drinking a cup of coffee that by this time I desperately needed while talking to the kids about what they wanted for breakfast. Breakfast groceries were part of what Mitch bought including pancake mix, eggs, bread and three types of jelly. I was also eyeing the living room which had stacks of kids folded clothing on every surface. Most of it, I’d discovered, didn’t deserve to be laundered because it was worn or stained and should be thrown out. And I was thinking that my being able to be freakishly tidy and having a modicum of peace of mind because I was able to control my surroundings was a thing of the past when there was a knock at the door.

I blinked at the door. I was stuck in my head because I was scared to death about my future, the kids’ future, Bill’s threats and how I was going to clothe, feed and house three humans. Not to mention all things Detective Mitch Lawson. So the knock at the door coming so early in the morning threw me.

It didn’t throw Billie. She jumped off her stool and raced to the door shouting, “I’ll get it!”

“Billie, don’t.” I moved out of the kitchen, taking my coffee cup with me. “Let me check the peephole.”

She was turning the door handle desperately this way and that, ready to welcome whoever was out there wholeheartedly. These efforts were to no avail as the door was locked and chained.

I looked out the peephole and saw Mitch.

Oh God.

His hair was partially wet, the drying ends curling around his ears, neck and collar. I knew he was ready for work because he was wearing a light blue, chambray shirt and a dark, olive green, kickass sports jacket. Detective Mitch Lawson work clothes.

Jeez, he was hot.

“Who is it?” Billie asked.

“It’s Mitch,” I mumbled, gently moving her out of the way and unlocking the door.

“Yippee!” she cried and then shouted to the door, “Hi, Mitch! I’m wearing my new outfit!”