Guarding His Fake Family Read online

  * * *

  “Uh.” Alisha pulled out her phone while following him to the bathroom. “Let me Google it and see what it says.”

  Except there were so many rules, it made her head swim. “Can she sit unassisted? Did I get the temperature right? Do you think the sink is the right size for this? What about—”

  “Alisha—take a breath,” Simon said, lowering the baby into the sink filled with warm water. “And put that away. It’s not helping; it’s just freaking you out. I think we can figure this out on our own.”

  She set her phone aside but wasn’t so sure. “Are you sure the water’s the right temperature? Not too hot? Too cold? I tried to test it, but I’ve always liked my showers hot, so…” She started to reach for her phone again. “Maybe I should just check to see what the right temperature is.”

  “Stop. Seriously.” Simon straightened and reached for a washcloth and the bottle of baby wash nearby. “It’s fine. Look, she’s having a great time.”

  Alisha had to admit that yeah, Amy was having a ball, splashing in the water. She also had to admit that Simon seemed to be a natural at this stuff. He was soaping up the kid and talking to her, keeping her occupied while he cleaned her up like a pro. She crossed her arms again, feeling far too vulnerable to him for her liking. “Have you done this before?”

  “What?” He glanced over at her. “The bath, you mean? Nope. First time.” Simon shrugged. “I have lots of friends who have kids, though, and I’ve seen them handle this, so I had a general idea. And sometimes, when you don’t have a clue, you just have to go with your gut.”

  “Hmm.” She dug her bare toes into the plush rug on the floor. “I don’t think I have any instincts, at least where kids are concerned.”

  Simon scoffed. “Of course you do. Everyone does. They’re hardwired. You just need to uncover them and hone them, that’s all.” He waved her over. “Come on and help me.”

  He poured a dollop of soap into her palm, then pointed at Amy’s head. “Wash her hair while I finish up the rest. Just be careful and try to keep it out of her eyes.”

  Tentatively, Alisha foamed up the shampoo and gently rubbed it onto Amy’s scalp, careful to avoid her face. “Like this?”

  “Yep. Good. See? You’re a natural too.”

  As if in confirmation, little Amy looked up at her and smiled and it felt like the sun came out for Alisha. She grinned back at the baby and massaged her little scalp gently. “Does that feel good, huh? We gals have to take care of our hair, yes, we do. Uh huh.”

  By the time they finished the bath and had Amy wrapped in a fluffy towel to dry her off, Alisha was feeling far more confident about the whole thing, all thanks to Simon.

  He carried Amy back into the nursery and laid her back down on the changing table—after clearing all the previous mess away. “Okay. We’re going to need a clean diaper, some cream, powder, and a new onesie.”

  Alisha picked up the items and set them on the table for Simon. “Check, check, check, and check.”

  “Cool,” he said. “Now, come around here and hold her in place while I figure out how to get this thing on her.”

  “Hey, baby girl,” Alisha said to Amy, moving in beside Simon to keep her distracted while he fiddled with the cream and powder and diaper. “Once we get you all set, we’ll go downstairs and have some breakfast. Would you like that, huh, baby girl? I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you? Me too. A woman after my own heart. Yes, you are, baby girl.”

  “Okay. Diaper on,” Simon said. “Next, the onesie.”

  A few minutes later, working in tandem, they’d gotten Amy sat up and her new clothes slipped over her arms and legs. Simon finished snapping up the onesie, then Alisha picked up the baby to carry her downstairs while he finished cleaning up the nursery and crib, bagging up all the trash and tying it off to block out the smell.

  The whole experience had her feeling all sorts of things—happy, accomplished, tender and fuzzy. But still, in the back of her mind, Alisha was worried. Not just about the pregnancy, but about these newfound feelings for Simon that were bubbling through her now like uncorked champagne. They were working together on protecting this baby and investigating this story. That was all. The sooner she remembered that, and kept her feelings out of it, the better.

  Except Alisha had the niggling doubt that her emotions toward Simon wouldn’t go away anytime soon.

  Thirteen

  The rest of the day was a busy one for Simon, between taking care of Amy and working with Alisha online to try and figure out where the Andronetto brothers might have taken Thomas Warren. And more importantly, why they’d taken him. He’d even done a drive-by of the auction house earlier in the day, to see if they might have stashed the guy there, but there’d been nothing suspicious going on that he could detect. Besides, honestly, the place was too public. The Andronetto brothers might not be the brightest minds in the world, but not even they were that dumb. Wherever they were holding Warren, it was bound to be private and secure.

  With a yawn, he plopped down on the sofa after getting Amy down to sleep for the night. He clicked on the TV and flipped through the channels without really seeing them. Alisha was still hard at work on her laptop behind him on the kitchen table, but he was all worked out. He wanted to do something fun tonight, but given they were currently under deep cover here, their choices were limited. And while the staged house had a perfectly nice TV, they hadn’t bothered with a cable subscription for something that was basically just a prop. Finally, after cruising through the very limited selection of channels and finding nothing of interest, he shut the thing off and stood again, walking over to where Alisha was hunched over the screen of the laptop Farrah had bought for her to use, scowling.

  “Find anything new?” he asked, as he opened the fridge to pull out a bottle of ale.

  “No,” Alisha said, her expression disgusted. “Three hours I’ve been digging and not a single clue.”

  Simon took a long swig from his bottle, then swiped the back of his hand across his mouth as a new idea occurred. “Maybe it’s time to take a break.”

  “And do what?” she said, still staring at her computer, her tone surly. “Not exactly a funhouse of amusement around here at the moment.”

  He put his bottle down on the table across from her and walked back into the living room to grab some of the props he’d found in the cabinet earlier. “Are you a betting woman?”

  Alisha gave him a flat stare from atop her computer. “What the hell do you think?”

  “Well,” he said, sitting down across from her and laying down a deck of cards and a box of poker chips. “Right now, I’d say you’re cranky and tired and overworked. So, how about you shut down the laptop, I throw a frozen pizza in the oven, and we play some Texas Hold ’Em.”

  She blinked at him a second, then shook her head. “I don’t know how to play that.”

  “Then I’ll teach you.” He winked at her as he cracked open the cards and began shuffling them. “It’s not hard and I’ll even let you beat me the first few hands.”

  One side of her mouth hitched up, and Alisha closed her laptop and clasped her hands atop it. “I don’t need any special favours. You teach me the game and if I beat you, it’ll be fair and square.”

  “Deal.” He set the deck of cards aside and opened the poker chips, setting them up in equal stacks and sliding half of them across the table to her. “Okay. Here are your chips. The white ones are worth a dollar. The red ones are five dollars. The blue ones are ten and the green ones are twenty-five. Opening ante is a buck.”

  “Got it.” She arranged her chips neatly in front of her and waited while he dealt the cards.

  Simon dealt them each two cards, then set the deck aside. “Okay. The first thing we bet on is called the Blind. That’s what the cards in front of you are called. Take a look, but don’t let me see. Neither of us knows what the other has in the hole yet. We can only guess what the other person has based on how they react and their facial expressions, th
en make a calculated guess as to whether your hand’s better than your opponent’s. Understand?”

  “Yep. Sounds pretty easy to me.” Alisha said, picking up her two cards and glancing at them, then watching Simon closely as she picked up a white chip. “And what are the rankings of different winning hands?”

  He went over them with her. “Obviously, you won’t really know what you’ve got until I deal the Flop, but a good rule of thumb for a newbie is that if both your hole cards are not tens or greater, then you should fold. Meaning you don’t bet at all.”

  Alisha wrinkled her nose. “That’s harsh.”

  “Yeah, but trust me. It’ll save you a lot of chips in the long run because it’ll keep you from playing hands you shouldn’t.” He checked his own cards. A pair of kings. “Right. So, what are you doing then?”

  She tapped a finger atop her white chip, then tossed it into the centre of the table. “I’m in.”

  “Okay.” He matched her white chip and raised her a red one. “I match your dollar and I raise you five. Now you can either call my bet, by matching it with a red chip of your own, or you can raise it by adding five and then more, or you can pass and fold depending on how good your current cards are.”

  “Call,” she said, tossing a red chip out onto the stack, then reached for a green one. “And raise twenty-five.”

  “Whoa.” Simon paused in mid-sip of his ale. “Uh, are you sure you want to do that?”

  “I like to live dangerously.” She winked at him and he felt that tiny gesture go straight to his groin. Yeah. Maybe playing poker with her wasn’t such a great idea after all. Gambling always got his blood pumping and with Alisha sitting there trying to act all coy and mysterious…

  He shook off his naughty thought and refocused on his cards. “Fine.” Simon tossed a green chip into the pot, then picked up the cards again. “But you’re going down, missy.”

  “In your dreams,” she shot back. Simon actually had been dreaming about that very thing the previous night. He’d been contemplating a cold shower to resolve the issue when Amy’s diaper disaster had taken care of the problem for him.

  After shuffling the cards longer than necessary to distract himself from all his blood supply pumping southward, he dealt out three cards face up in the centre of the table. “This is called the Flop. These cards make up the rest of your poker hand and determine if you have the winning hand or not. Based on those, you decide if you want to continue betting or fold.”

  “Got it.” She tapped her finger against her front teeth. Definitely a tell, in Simon’s experience, but he hadn’t played with Alisha enough yet to know whether it signalled a good hand or a bad one. She squinted, as if running calculations in her head, then tossed a blue chip on the growing stack in the pot. “I raise ten.”

  “And I call your ten and raise five.” The three flop cards were a pair of kings and an ace. He had four of a kind, so that was pretty damned good. “If you want to stay in, you have to add five to the pot.”

  “Done.” Alisha tossed a final red chip into the pile, then turned over her cards. “Three aces.”

  “That’s good,” Simon said, grinning as he revealed his hand. “But. Not as good as my four kings. I win.”

  He scooped up his plunder, then stacked his chips neatly while she shuffled and dealt them a new hand. With each round Alisha grew more adept, until finally they were about even in the chip count. They shared a pizza while he had several bottles of ale and she downed a pot of herbal tea. The atmosphere was easy and comfortable, before Alisha spoke again.

  “For all we know, Thomas Warren could be in big trouble,” Alisha said out of the blue while he dealt them a new hand. “Or worse, they’ve already killed him.”

  “Hmm.” He frowned down at his cards again, a ten and a two this time. “Maybe, but we can only focus on what we can control. And right now, that’s our research into the mess with the Andronettos and how Warren ties into it. We find that out, we can unravel the rest. We just need to hope it’s in time.” He tossed out a white chip and a blue one, bluffing all the way. “Ante up.”

  Alisha scrunched her nose at her cards and fiddled with her chips. They’d played enough hands by now for him to have a better read on her tells. The wrinkled nose usually meant she was thinking, probably about what she could make out of cards that weren’t the worst, but not the best either. Basically, the same as his. Then she nodded and tossed a white, a blue, and a green chip on the pile. “Call and raise.”

  Huh. All right then. He’d figured her hand wasn’t that great, but if she was betting that high, then maybe he’d been wrong. Taking a chance, he called her bet and raised her another twenty-five bucks just to sell his deception. “What are you doing?”

  Her sly grin had his mind veering off into Naughtytown again before he could stop it. “How about we make things even more interesting?”

  Oh boy. He cleared his throat as his pulse tripped. Simon could picture all sorts of interesting erotic activities he’d like to engage in with Alisha, but now wasn’t the time. They had a baby upstairs, for Christ’s sake.

  “Uh, maybe,” he said, hating the uncertainty in his voice, then ran a finger under the collar of his black T-shirt. When the hell had it gotten so hot in here? “What did you have in mind?”

  “Well…” She shifted her legs under the table, her foot brushing against the inside of his ankle and sending showers of fireworks through his bloodstream. “Instead of chips, how about we bet information.”

  “Information?”

  “Yeah. Winner of the hand gets to ask the other person any question of their choosing and the other has to answer truthfully.”

  Simon considered that a moment. Honestly, it wasn’t a bad idea at all. It might give him a chance to better figure out how she was feeling about the pregnancy and where her mind was regarding keeping the baby. Of course, it would mean she’d get to pry into his private life too, but given that most of his secrets had already been spilled all over the tabloids, thanks to his ex, it wasn’t that big a deal. Well, except for the one about the romance novel. “Okay. Fine. Let’s do it.”

  “Cool.” She shifted in her seat again. “Deal that flop, baby.”

  He did, then hid his disappointment. A jack, a nine and a two. No help for him there at all.

  Her grin widened. “Three of a kind, jacks high.”

  “Very good,” he said, tossing down his losing hand. “You win. I got nothing. Ask me anything.”

  Alisha tilted her head to the side. “Tell me a secret that no one else knows about you.”

  Well, shit. It was like she’d read his mind or something. Simon sighed and sat back while she gathered the cards to shuffle them. “Sandwiches are my favourite food.”

  “Nice try.” She shook her head. “But I already knew that from the other night. Try again.”

  “My favourite flower is hyacinth.”

  She rolled her eyes and snorted. “Really? You think I’ll let you off the hook with that? Forget it. I’ll take your chips instead.”

  Simon placed his hand over hers as she reached for the pot on the table. She was right. He needed to give her more. Especially if he hoped to get her to open up to him about the baby when it was his turn to ask questions. If she wanted to know something about him no one else did, here was a doozy. “I wrote a romance novel, on the side.”

  “I’m sorry. What?” Alisha blinked at him. “You write romance novels? When? When do you have time for that?”

  Shrugging, Simon sat back and took another gulp of his ale before answering. “After I wrote the first draft of my true crime book. I was good at laying out the facts, but I needed to work on building story structure and characterization. The format of a romance novel helped me do that. All the specific beats you need to hit and the emotional subtext. Not to mention thinking outside the box to avoid the usual clichés while keeping readers happy with a new twist on the tried and true tropes. It was challenging and fun. I liked doing it, and I think it helped make my
second draft stronger. Probably won’t ever publish it, but I’d do it again if I have the time.”

  “Well, well, well.” Alisha grinned. “Maybe I should start calling you Queen Nora after this.”

  “Please don’t.” He laughed. “I’m not that good yet.”

  “Whatever.” She ducked as he tossed a napkin at her head. “But you’ll get there.”

  Alisha dealt them new cards, then set the deck aside. Simon peeked at his and bit back a grin. Pocket aces. Hard to beat that. He anted up a white chip and two green ones. Her eyes widened and she swallowed hard. Yeah, he was so going to win this round.

  Still, she called his bet and dealt the flop. Two aces and a queen. “Your call.”

  Simon couldn’t resist. He pushed all his chips to the centre of the table. “I’m all in.”

  “Dammit.” Alisha tossed her cards down without a fight. “Fine. I fold. Ask away.”

  He leaned his hands on the table and said, “How are you feeling about the baby?”

  “Oh, I think Amy’s great,” she said, not looking at him.

  “I meant ours.”

  * * *

  Alisha sighed and set the cards aside. From the serious look on his face, he really wanted to talk about this. Hell, knowing him, he’d probably been stewing about it for a while, trying to figure out the best time to bring it up.

  Honestly, there wasn’t a best time to talk about the pregnancy because she still wasn’t ready. Still, a deal was a deal and he had opened up to her about his romance novel writing, so…

  She sat back and clasped her hands atop the table. “The truth is, I’m feeling scared, Simon.”

  “Scared?” He looked confused. “Why? Is it your health? Is there a history of rough pregnancies in your family?”

  “No.” She exhaled slowly and stared down at her hands. “I’m just not sure I’ll be good at it. My own mother wasn’t. She raised Mike and me by herself and it was hard. Between us and her career, there never seemed to be enough time for it all. So she picked her career. She wasn’t bad to us—she just wasn’t there much.”