the opposite. Domestic disturbances, drunk and disorderlies, teenage house parties. It probably looks pretty quiet from the outside, but I get a bird’s-eye view of pretty much everything.”
She nodded. “You hold secrets.”
“Enough of them. But they hold enough of mine, too. I think that’s part of what makes a place home—swapped secrets.”
Malory arched a brow. “You don’t seem like you’d have too many skeletons.”
“Not too many personal ones,” he agreed. “But my family was an out-of-control lot. When I was growing up, the cops came by my place on a weekly basis. My mom died when I was young, and my dad was all I had. He was an alcoholic, and being part of the Cruise clan wasn’t a good thing, I can assure you.”
“You seem to have turned out all right, though.”
“I figured there had to be something more to life.”
“I get that.” She nodded slowly. “It wouldn’t be easy, though.”
“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, seeming ready to drop the topic.
“So what did you do?”
“Hmm?” He wiped his lips with a napkin.
“How did you come out on top?”
“A cop took me under wing.”
“Oh?”
“As a kid, I started out as a troublemaker. I got into a lot of fights. Started most of them. But one day a cruiser dropped my dad off at home—I don’t remember what he’d done that time. The cop took one look at me, and he must have seen something worth saving, because he passed me his card and said I could call him if I wanted a job.”
“What kind of job?” she asked.
“Yard work. He was clearing out some trees on his property. So I called him, he put me to work and he paid me. That was the first time I worked for anything, and it felt good.”
She smiled. “And the rest is history?”
“Pretty much.” He chuckled. “Everyone in this town knows all about my humble beginnings, so it isn’t much of a secret. In fact, there are probably about six or seven old ladies quite willing to fill you in.”
“Well, you’re lucky,” she admitted. “But you don’t want to be that bighearted cop in Katy’s life and help turn things around for her?”
“I might be able to do that,” he agreed. “But you’re forgetting that her mother is in prison. What about when she wants to meet her mom? What about when her mother wants back into her life? What about cousins and uncles and aunts who are involved in crime? I’m not her only family member, and I wouldn’t be her only influence. If she stayed with me, how could I refuse to let her meet the rest of her relatives?”
Malory nodded. Much as she hated to admit it, Mike had a point. The situation was more complicated than it appeared at first glance. While Mike could easily draw some lines if he felt strongly enough, this wasn’t a cut-and-dried situation, and it wasn’t her decision to make.
“I think I understand,” she said with a nod.
A smile twitched at the corners of his lips. “Thanks.”
“But I stand by what I said—she needs to know that she matters and that when she does move on, she’ll be missed. That shows her that she has value. It might not be easy on you, but it’s better for her in the long run.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” His tone turned gruff, and he cleared his throat. His walls had just gone back up again.
She could see a flicker of the real man underneath the tough shell, and he had a softer heart than he liked to let on.
“Thanks for the pizza,” she said, licking her fingertips. “That hit the spot.”
He grabbed the plates and proceeded to clean up around her. “Look, I, uh—” He glanced toward her, then turned back to the counter. “I don’t normally chatter like that.”
“Like what?” she asked curiously.
“Oh, family history, that kind of thing.” He turned to face her, and for the first time she saw uncertainty swimming in those dark eyes. He obviously wasn’t comfortable with vulnerability.
“It helps to understand the situation,” she assured him. “And you can trust me to be discreet.”
“Thanks.”
Malory looked toward the window, where the sun was lowering temptingly in the sky. The breeze would be cool by now, and she longed for some time to herself.
“I thought I’d go for a walk,” she said.
He nodded. “You can walk east, if you want to, but don’t head west. There are some dogs that are pretty protective of their property out that direction.”
His eyes met hers, warm and gentle, and her heart gave a lurch. If the situation were different, he’d be very easy to fall for.
She smiled. “Thanks for the warning.”
Mike was afraid to get attached to Katy, and she could understand that. She didn’t really want to take a walk so much as she wanted to get out of the house. Her handsome boss was just a little too attractive, a little too intriguing... She had to say goodbye in a few months, too, and while she knew she’d miss little Katy, she had no intention of making that harder than it needed to be by getting too close to Mike, too.
If nothing else, Malory was a consummate professional.
The next morning, Mike stood in the kitchen, listening to the soft peals of laughter filtering through the ceiling above. Malory was getting Katy dressed, and he had to admit that there was something very sweet about the sound of a woman’s voice in the house.
“One...two...up we go!” Katy’s laughter followed.
Mike took another sip of aromatic black coffee and leaned with his backside against the counter. Tonight he’d work a late shift, so this morning was free. There’d been a time—about a week ago, to be exact—when that had meant sleeping in, watching a movie or working out at the gym. Now those things seemed out of place, somehow. Malory’s words from the evening before were still echoing through his mind. He had a responsibility to Katy, whether he thought he was good for the girl or not. He might be trying to keep an emotional distance, but Katy needed more from him. He wasn’t even sure he knew how to give it, but maybe he could put in some effort here.
The clatter of footsteps echoed down the staircase, and a moment later, a beaming little face appeared around the corner, blond curls in pigtails and a little pink dress ruffling out around her thin legs.
“Good morning, Katy,” Mike said.
“Hi.” She stared up at him, big blue eyes fixed on his face. “Do you have food?”
“Uh—” He looked over at the kitchen table, where a breakfast spread awaited. “Yes.”
Katy scampered over to a kitchen chair and climbed up, grabbing for the nearest box of cereal and shaking it exuberantly. Malory calmly rescued the box before it exploded, slipping it from her charge’s small fingers.
“Not like that,” Malory said. “I’ll pour you a bowl, okay? Sit down.”
Malory shot Mike a smile as she prepared Katy’s bowl of cornflakes. “How did you sleep?”
“Fine.” He cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable with this domestic scene in the middle of his house. “And you?”
“Like a baby.” She chuckled as she stretched forward to reach the pitcher.
“So