Page 41 of Dangerous Command
For a while, as I finished up the pizza bread with Lucy, I watched them. Derek was being as gentle as he had promised, and Mack was smiling at him, happy to have another friend. It didn’t seem like Derek. The same suit, the same face and smile, the sameeverything, but how could he be kicking around a soccer ball, like it was nothing? I had seen him kill a man only days before, and he was ready to kill someone when he thought I was going to the hospital to meet a boyfriend. But he had completely changed when he met Mack. A different side had come out, one that was sweet. Careful. Someone who wanted to make a kid smile with crappy stick figures and kicking around a ball.
He seemed so different, and yet the same—he was the same protective Derek I had always known.
Lucy closed the oven and cooed. “Look at that,” she said, motioning at the yard. “Has Mack had a male role model like that?”
I shook my head. I had never told Lucy about Mack’s father. I loved Lucy as if she were family, sometimes more than my own mother. But it was hard enough for me to admit the truth of Mack’s parentage to myself.
“They seem to be getting along,” she said.
Mack smiled up at Derek. Derek hit the ball off into a bush then ran to get it, slipping on the wet grass, getting green stains on his dress pants. Mack cackled, slapping his good hand into his chest. Encouraged, Derek pretended to fall again, all to make Mack laugh. And Mack did.
“They do,” I said, agreeing with her.
“You must be pleased.”
My heart swelled with warmth, and yet I couldn’t admit it. Wouldn’t let myself. Because letting Derek into our life like this, wasn’t good for Mack. Derek was a mafia boss; death and destruction followed him around like a shadow. I knew that.
And yet Mack hadn’t been this happy in a long, long time. I loved to hear him laugh, to see the way it lit up his face.
And Derek made me feel that way too.
Dinner was satisfying, though the conversation was mostly filled with fart jokes between the three of them while I pretended to be disgusted. Shortly after, Lucy let herself out, and I tucked Mack into bed. After reading a chapter in Robert Louis Stevenson’sTreasure Islandto him, I kissed his forehead.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” he said sleepily.
I wrinkled my brows. “For what?”
“For jumping off of the jungle gym,” he said. “For making you miss work.”
“Oh, honey,” I said. I pushed a black lock of hair off of his face. “Don’t be sorry about that. Just be careful next time you play with older kids.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
“Goodnight, baby.” I squeezed his hand.
“Night, Mom,” he said. He turned onto his side and closed his eyes.
“Night, Mack,” Derek said in a loud whisper from the hallway. Mack’s eyes widened and he smiled.
“Night, Derek,” he grinned.
After turning on his noise machine, I closed the door and tip-toed to the living room. Derek sat on the faux leather couch, leaning back, drinking me in from my toes to my hips, all the way to the top of my head. My hair was tucked into a messy bun like it often was whenever I was cleaning or mothering. But Derek was relaxed, spread out as if he owned the place. As if he had always been here. The man had more money than I could imagine, and yet he was still at home in our two-bedroom apartment.
“So that’s where you got that ass and hips, huh?” Derek grinned.
“Hmm?”
“Birthing hips.” He sat up, resting his hands on his knees as his gaze swept over me again. “Mommy hips.” He nodded at me. “Did you get that from your mother?”
“Not at all,” I laughed. I had my body shape long before Mack was in my life, and my mother had the opposite body type. Derek’s eyes swam over me again, and I blushed. I could tell he was imagining the dirty things he wanted to do to me. Standing there in front of him, my whole body heated under his gaze.
“Come here,” he said. A rush of adrenaline coursed through me. I stood between his parted legs. He settled his hands on my waist, traveling down to my ass, admiring my figure. My skin was flushed, brushed with pink. But that didn’t stop Derek. He had this irresistible way of making me feel beautiful, even when I was a hot mess.
“It doesn’t bother you?” I asked. His lips parted slightly. “I thought you would be upset that I had a kid.”
He smiled. “The only thing that pisses me off is that the stupid-ass father isn’t in the picture anymore.” He resumed his exploration of my round stomach, the heavy curve of my ass. I closed my eyes, letting the ecstasy of his fingertips linger on my skin. I could get used to this. Again, and again. “But that’s better for me, isn’t it?” he murmured.
I wasn’t sure what to say. As long as he kept doing what he was doing with his hands, I would be compliant.Yes, Derek.
