Читать книгу Daddy Defender - Janie Crouch - Страница 10

Chapter One

“Ashton, it means the world to me that you would come here to fix this first thing in the morning.”

Ashton Fitzgerald, top sharpshooter for Omega Sector Critical Response Division’s SWAT team, had his head and half his large torso under the kitchen sink of a condo unit in Masking Ridge, a community just south of Colorado Springs.

He knew Summer Worrall, owner of said sink, didn’t expect much of a response from him, so he just grunted as he put a little more elbow grease into tightening a stripped nut on her piping.

“I don’t know when it started leaking, but it was definitely bad when Chloe got me up this morning.”

As if in agreement, nineteen-month-old Chloe began gurgling in her mother’s arms and clapping loudly. She obviously wanted to be let down onto the floor to play with Ashton, but Summer was keeping her out of the way.

“It’s no problem,” Ashton muttered.

Actually, it was a problem. He was going to be late into Omega Sector’s SWAT training facility. Not that there would be any true harm in that; the team was just running exercises today unless something real came in. But as soon as they realized why Ashton was late—because Summer Worrall thought he was the maintenance man again—they were going to tease him mercilessly.

Again.

They all knew, or at least knew of, Summer and Chloe. Her husband had been killed in a hostage situation gone wrong nearly two years ago. Then she’d been kidnapped by a psychopath eight months ago in another incident involving the Omega Sector’s Critical Response Division, an elite interagency task force with some of the country’s best agents.

So no one on the team actually begrudged Ashton helping out the young widow. What they found so hilarious was the fact that Summer thought he was the handyman for the entire condo complex.

And Ashton could admit he was a pretty mechanically minded guy. Growing up on his parents’ farm in Wyoming had given him a lot of skills with his hands. He could fix most household problems, given the time and tools.

“I think I’ve got this under control,” he said. “It’s nothing big, just some piping that needed to be realigned and tightened.”

“Oh good. I didn’t want to turn a big, formal request in to Joe.”

Joe Matarazzo, the main hostage negotiator at Omega Sector, who also happened to be a billionaire, owned the condos in which Summer and Chloe lived. That’s how this crazy misunderstanding had started in the first place. Summer had needed a handyman and called Joe. Joe had said he’d send someone trustworthy right over.

But then Joe had an emergency with Omega and asked Ashton if he could take care of Summer’s problem. Instead of calling someone, Ashton had just gone over to Summer’s home himself. He’d had no intention of misleading Summer, and had even introduced himself as Joe’s friend.

Evidently she’d taken that to mean Joe’s handyman friend.

When he’d given her his number, telling her to call him if anything else came up, Summer had taken him up on that offer. Eight times in the last few months.

Now Ashton had no idea how to tell her the truth.

And that wasn’t even the worst secret he was keeping from her. He grimaced and worked his way out from under the sink.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it all fixed under here. I just need to turn your water back on in the basement.”

Ashton pulled himself the rest of the way out from under the sink and stood. He smiled at Summer, trying not to let himself be taken aback again by her beauty. Petite, with rich auburn hair, pale skin with freckles dusting her cheeks and nose. It was colder weather now, but Ashton knew from the tank tops she wore in warmer temps that her shoulders were dusted with freckles, also.

But he definitely did not want to be thinking about her bare shoulders or how he’d love to play connect the dots on them with his fingers or—even better—his lips. Summer wouldn’t be interested in any law-enforcement lips after what she’d been through. Especially his.

“Ah-ta!” Little Chloe squealed and threw herself forward from her mother’s arms, reaching for Ashton. He caught her, taking her from Summer and pulling her to his chest.

“Sorry,” Summer murmured.

“Don’t worry about it.” It happened every time he came by. Little Chloe loved to see him. Not able to say the word Ashton, she’d taken to calling him Ah-ta last month.

“Hey, gorgeous.” He smiled at the baby. “You shouldn’t be so quick to jump out of your mama’s arms.”

He knew he wouldn’t be.

Chloe put both her tiny hands on his cheeks. “Ah-ta.”

“Yeah, but I might not always be there to catch you.” He adjusted his tool belt so her little feet didn’t get snagged on anything. The belt didn’t bother him at all. It was quite similar to the SWAT utility belt he wore in other circumstances.

“Ashton, thanks again for making this your first stop. I’m sure you have other places to be. Other units higher on the priority list than mine.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. It was no trouble coming by here.”

Summer’s green eyes filled with distress. “You mean you only came here for me? You’re working out of another complex today? I’m so sorry.”

Ashton never knew what to say, so he said as little as possible. “Yeah, I’m working at another complex today.” That wasn’t technically untrue; the SWAT training facility was definitely another complex. “Don’t worry. I never mind coming by here.”

Ugh. Now he sounded like he was about to ask her out for a date. He was sure she’d shut that down real quick.

“I-I just mean...” He trailed off. Was he actually stuttering now? She must think he was a complete moron.

She touched him on the arm. “I understand and I truly appreciate it.” She reached over and tickled Chloe. “This little wiggle worm does too. She always loves to see you.”

“I’ll just take her downstairs with me to turn the water back on. Is that okay?” Chloe was currently playing with his ears. Pulling on them with her surprisingly strong little fingers.

“Sure,” Summer smiled. “Give my arms a break for a few minutes. I’ll put this stuff back under the sink.”

Ashton turned with the baby and began walking down to the basement. He knew where it was from a hot-water-heater problem a few months before. As a matter of fact, for a newer condo, this place tended to have a lot of issues. But he definitely wouldn’t complain.

It gave him a chance to see Summer. Even if it was as the handyman.

Little Chloe began jabbering to him in her baby language, laughing as he bounced her as he went down the stairs. He didn’t know why the little girl liked him so much, but he would take it while he could.

Someday she would find out Ashton was the reason her dad had died. Then neither she nor her mom would want anything to do with him.

* * *

SUMMER LOVED HEARING her daughter squeal with delight as Ashton took her down the stairs. She felt safe leaving Chloe with Ashton. Not only had he proven over and over again that he was patient and gentle with her, Joe Matarazzo—one of Summer’s closest friends—had vouched personally for Ashton.

Joe had first sent Ashton over when she’d had a garbage disposal problem a few months ago. She’d somehow found multiple reasons for him to come back since. He must think she was completely useless around the house. But he never seemed to mind coming over to help with whatever she needed.

So Summer kept calling. And Ashton kept showing up.

With his tall, gorgeous body and thick brown hair. Muscular arms that stretched the sleeves of his T-shirts.

She had to admit, she didn’t mind the view whenever he was here.

She hadn’t gone so far as to actually break anything herself to get him to come over, but she’d never tried to fix even the smallest problem when it occurred. Since the unit was really bigger than she and Chloe needed—three bedrooms, two different levels, plus a basement—there did seem to be a lot of different things she could call him for.

Summer began putting back the cleaning supplies she’d moved out of the way before Ashton had arrived. Ashton barely ever talked while he was there. At least, not to Summer. She could hear him keeping up a steady stream of conversation with Chloe, but the most Summer got were short, direct sentences. He was shy and a little bit awkward. Unbelievable in a man with his looks.

Not that Summer would know what to do if the man could get a full sentence out and began to really talk to her. Then she’d be the one stuttering.

So she kept her one-sided attraction to herself. She was sure she wasn’t really his type. She didn’t know what that type may be, but it was probably someone more into things he was into...

Like being quiet.

She knocked her head softly against the sink cabinet door. She didn’t really know anything about Ashton. She knew some basics—that he’d been raised on his parents’ farm, that he still went out to Wyoming to see them as often as he could. She knew he was kind and gentle with her daughter and always polite to her. But she had no idea what he was into, what he liked. Only knew he tended to be reserved. A man of few words.

And that he had a face, hair and biceps to die for.

She would’ve totally given up on any possibility of anything ever happening between them if she didn’t catch him looking at her with heat in his eyes every once in a while. Like he felt the same attraction she did but couldn’t seem to move on it. He never moved on it.

Maybe because he was too shy.

Or maybe she’d just imagined those looks.

She put a stack of sponges where they belonged before closing the cabinet and resting her head against the wood. It had been too long since Tyler died. Too long since she’d had a man’s attention focused on her. And as much as she’d like that focus to be from Ashton, she didn’t see that happening any time soon.

“Okay, got your water turned back on and everything should be great.”

As she stood back up, Summer couldn’t help but notice his shirt had gotten a little damp, probably while he’d been under the sink, and clung to his midsection, showing off the perfectly defined abs underneath.

Weren’t plumbers and maintenance guys supposed to have beer bellies and ill-fitting pants? She may not know what Ashton did on his time off, but it definitely wasn’t sitting around watching TV and drinking beer, that was for sure.

And then she noticed how he kept Chloe up high in his arms so her little legs wouldn’t get damp from his shirt.

And darn it if that wasn’t almost as sexy.

“Ashton, thank you again for coming by. Especially since you weren’t planning to work in our complex this morning.”

He looked a little sheepish, she had no idea why. Chloe reached for her. “Ma-ma.”

Summer took her daughter, nuzzling her soft hair. “Hey, sweetheart. You have fun with Ashton?”

Chloe began jabbering an entire story only she could understand.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay you extra for your time? Coming out here—out of your way? I feel bad.”

Ashton’s eyes widened. “No. No. That’s really not necessary. You definitely cannot pay me. Summer, I should—”

He stopped, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

“You should what?” she finally asked when it became apparent he wasn’t going to say anything more.

As usual.

He gave a tiny sigh, then a smile. “Nothing. Really, it was no problem helping you. Just call me if there’s anything else you need.”

What if she needed to ask him to dinner? What would he say to that? No doubt he would stutter and get embarrassed.

But would he stutter yes or stutter no?

Summer had been out of the dating game for a long time. She and Tyler had been married three years when he’d died nearly two years ago. So it had been over five years since she’d asked anyone—or been asked by anyone—for a date. She wasn’t sure she even knew how to start now.

All she knew was that it was nice to be around a man who didn’t know that her husband had died suddenly and tragically. Didn’t look at her with barely veiled pity in his eyes.

She turned toward the kitchen counter and grabbed a plate. “Well, I made you some muffins. Blueberry.”

She thrust the plate holding the half dozen oversize muffins toward him.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Now she felt like an idiot. “Oh. Yeah, well, I just felt like baking.” At four o’clock this morning when she’d realized he might be coming over in a few hours to fix the leak. “And thought you might like some. I can’t eat them all.”

She wished she’d never brought it up.

“Oh, well, they look delicious. Thank you very much.”

He took the plate. She ignored the tiny bit of guilt she felt over the knowledge that he’d probably return the plate in the next couple of days and she’d get to see him again.

That was not why she’d baked him muffins.

He was a single guy. He probably didn’t get a lot of home-cooked items. That’s why she’d baked him muffins.

He glanced at his watch and winced. “Okay, I’ve got to get going. Just call me if there are any other problems, okay? And thank you.” He held up the plate.

He reached over quickly and tickled Chloe’s cheek, causing her to laugh. “Bye, you little heartbreaker. Be good for your mama.”

He was out the door before she could say anything else.

What would she say anyway?

Bring me back my muffin plate tomorrow and when you do, ask me to dinner!

She wished she had the guts.

Summer put Chloe in her high chair and set some Cheerios in a small plastic bowl on the tray. Within seconds, they were spread out all over the tray and she was trying to feed herself with both fists at once.

Chloe wasn’t much of a conversationalist either.

Summer had lost her husband to useless violence so long ago now. She missed Tyler every day, wished he was here to see his daughter and what a beautiful, smart, delightful baby she was. But Summer had long since accepted Tyler wasn’t coming back. He wouldn’t want her to waste her life pining over what couldn’t be changed. He would always live in her heart.

So maybe someday soon she would ask Ashton out. He seemed like a good man, if a little shy, but solid, steady, dependable.

And hot as all get-out.

Summer could use a little solid-and-steady, even if the words sounded boring to her. She’d had enough excitement in her twenty-six years. First Tyler’s death, then eight months ago when a crazy stalker linked to Tyler’s case had taken her and Chloe and trapped them in a burning building.

Some Omega Sector agents who worked with Joe Matarazzo had gotten her and Chloe out. Joe had been able to stop the stalker and save his wife, Laura—whom the psycho had also taken—although only barely.

Summer didn’t remember a lot of what had happened in that building. She’d been drugged so everything had been hazy. She just remembered a man in full combat gear, breaking through the door of the small room where she and Chloe had been placed and carrying them both out to safety—as if carrying them had been no difficulty for him at all. The whole scene had been so chaotic, Summer hadn’t even been able to thank him.

So yeah, she’d had enough of excitement. Was ready for a little bit of boring, like maybe a quiet handyman. Although she doubted Ashton was boring once someone got to know him. At least she hoped not.

Summer almost absently gave Chloe more Cheerios before reaching down to grab the ones that had been knocked to the floor and throwing them in the trash.

Summer dreamed a lot—almost every night. Vivid, lifelike dreams. For a while they had been terrifying ones of Tyler’s death. Thankfully those had gone away.

Now she often dreamed about her kidnapping and the fire. She dreamed about the man who’d gotten her out. Who’d carried her safely in his arms.

Capable. Strong. Calm and steady under pressure.

But in every dream, no matter how it started or what she did differently, there was only one face she ever assigned to her hero: Ashton’s.

Ashton Fitzgerald may be strong. And even capable in a lot of situations. But he was no rush-into-a-burning-building sort of hero. Which was fine. There were all types of heroes. Ashton was just the type who came by early and fixed sinks, rather than leaping tall buildings in a single bound. Summer had no problem with that.

She just wished she could convince her subconscious.