Elle James - Bodyguard Under Fire

Hank nodded. “Exactly.”

“You think Alana’s ex-fiancé might have traced PJ through the adoption agency?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“How long ago did you say it was when you helped this woman, Alana?”

Hank stared across the table at Chuck. “Twenty-six years ago.”

Chuck did the math in his head. PJ had turned twenty-five while he’d been in Afghanistan. His gut tightened. “The next question—and I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it might be important—but just who is PJ’s father?”

The older man opened his mouth and then closed it and smiled, his head turning toward the woman in question.

“Your breakfast.” PJ set a steaming plate of eggs, sunny-side up, in front of Hank and one in front of Chuck, her arm brushing against his, sending sensual shock waves across his senses.

Chuck’s fingers tightened on the napkin in his lap to keep from reaching out and pulling PJ into his arms.

PJ jerked her arm back, her eyes flaring wide for a moment. Her chest rose and fell on a deep breath. “Is there anything else I can get you?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“No, thank you,” Hank answered for them both.

Chuck couldn’t speak, his throat tight around his vocal cords. He wanted to hold PJ so badly, he had to remain completely still or risk leaping from his seat and taking her into his arms.

When PJ turned and hurried away, Chuck let go of the breath he’d been holding and faced Hank. “Were you and Alana more than just acquaintances?”

Hank nodded.

“So PJ could be your and Alana’s daughter.”

The older man lifted his fork and put it down again. “I don’t know. Without informing PJ of our connection, I don’t know how to get a sample for DNA testing. If she’s my daughter, she runs the risk of kidnapping attempts.”

“Like your wife and son...” Chuck had heard about Hank’s family before he’d deployed. Everyone in Wild Oak Canyon knew they’d disappeared two years ago and Hank had been looking for them ever since.

Hank stared across the table at Chuck, his face haggard, older than his fifty-something years. “I couldn’t bear for her to be hurt because of me.”

“You need to tell her,” Chuck said.

“When I know for sure.”

“The only way you’ll know for sure is to do DNA testing. You’d have to tell her something to get the sample you need.”

Hank threw his napkin on the table, his brows furrowed. “I couldn’t bear it if someone targeted another person because of me.”

“She might not be yours at all. Alana could have had another relationship with someone else shortly after disappearing.”

Hank’s eyes narrowed. “Then why leave the letter for me?”

“She counted on you to help.” Chuck stared across the room at PJ, leaning close to an elderly woman, taking her order. “What if PJ is the ex-fiancé’s daughter?”

“Things might get even worse.” Hank’s lips tightened. “He’ll want what is his and will stop at nothing to take her and the child.”

Chapter Four

PJ felt as if she was walking on eggshells the entire time Chuck and Hank were eating their breakfast. Several times she fumbled coffee mugs, almost dropping them.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Cara Jo rested a hand on her arm. “The world will not come to an end because the old fiancé is back in town.”

“I know. But we haven’t had the talk yet. I don’t know what he’s going to want in the way of visitation with Charlie.” PJ wrung her hands, staring at Chuck’s back. “He might sue for custody, for all I know.”

Cara Jo clucked her tongue. “Don’t borrow trouble, sweetie. He doesn’t strike me as the vindictive type.”

“No, but he’s always wanted children. He’ll want to be a part of Charlie’s life.”

“And that’s a problem?” Cara Jo’s brows rose. “Honey, a girl needs a daddy in her life. Not that you wouldn’t do a good job of raising her. But having a good male role model sets her up for future relationships and expectations of the kind of men she should date.”

“Charlie’s only three months old, for God’s sake.” PJ flung her hands in the air. “I’m not ready for my baby to start dating.”

Cara Jo chuckled. “I know. But having a good role model early in her life gives her a firm foundation when it comes to the kind of guy she might one day marry.”

PJ pinched the bridge of her nose, a headache forming at the thought of Charlie as a teen. “I don’t want to think about Charlie dating or marrying until at least after the terrible twos.”

“Order up!” Mrs. Kinsley yelled through the window from the kitchen.

Cara Jo handed her two plates of biscuits and gravy. “Sadly, it’ll be here before you know it. Take these to table nine, while I see if I can help Mrs. Kinsley catch up.”

PJ threw herself into taking orders and delivering food, busing tables in between. The hectic pace kept her too busy for her eyes to stray to the corner where Chuck and Hank sat, taking their sweet time over coffee. Still, her gaze found its way there every time she turned around.

Chuck’s broad shoulders and the high-and-tight military haircut made butterflies swarm in her belly and stirred the longing she’d thought was buried with the letters from Chuck she’d kept in a box beneath her bed.

She hadn’t opened them for fear she’d lose her determination and conviction that she was doing the right thing by moving on. Yet she hadn’t returned them or thrown them away. At first, he’d sent a letter every other day after he’d deployed to Afghanistan. When she refused to respond, the letters slowed to a trickle until about a month before Charlie was born, when they’d stopped altogether.

In her eighth month of pregnancy, PJ had never felt more alone. Sure, Cara Jo had been beside her, had gone to prenatal classes with her and coached her through the actual delivery, but it wasn’t the same.

The guilt of not having told Chuck of the baby and her continued longing gnawed at her heart. She hadn’t wanted to give her heart to him, knowing he’d leave her and possibly never come back. With her luck, he’d die just like every other presumably permanent person in her life. Her mother, what little she remembered of her, and her adoptive mother. Hell, she had never known her father.

Now she had Charlie in her life, and every day she worried that something horrible would happen to her. And it almost had the night before.

On her break PJ retreated to the diner office to use the telephone and dialed the number for the day care.

“Heavenly Hope Day Care, this is Dana.”

“Oh, good,” PJ breathed. “Just the person I wanted to talk to.”

“PJ?”

“I know it’s overprotective of me, but I had to call and check on Charlie.”

“I’m holding her in my arms as we speak. She’s just fine.” Dana paused. “How about you? You sound a bit shaken.”

“I guess I am after last night’s attack.”

The phone clattered and Dana muttered an expletive before saying, “Sorry, dropped the phone. Now, what do you mean attack? You didn’t say anything about it when you dropped Charlie off. Did Chuck attack you?”

PJ shoved a hand through her hair and sighed. “Sorry, Dana. I must have forgotten, what with Chuck being there and all.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No. Chuck came in and saved the day.” PJ glanced around the office. “I have to get back to work. I just wanted to know Charlie was okay.”

“I’ll keep an extra special eye on her and let you know of anything out of the ordinary. Sheesh. Attacked? You better fill me in on all the details this afternoon.”

“I will.”

“That’s something a girl doesn’t forget. I guess having Chuck around has you completely rattled.”