Strategic Engagement

“You need me?” Mary Elise enunciated slowly.

Daniel watched her brows pull together over confused green eyes. He wasn’t feeling much steadier himself.

He braced a hand against the bulkhead and planted both boots for balance. Where the hell had his words come from?

There were probably a hundred different services he could call to help at a moment’s notice. He knew at least a dozen women who would enjoy nothing more than mothering the boys as a way to entice him into being “emotionally available.”

And none of them were Mary Elise.

He tried to tell himself his motives for keeping her close were rooted in protectiveness. That long-ago connection had kicked into overdrive in the past few minutes. Right about the time he’d mentioned calling Savannah.

He didn’t consider himself an intuitive guy, a fact reinforced by his double-digit tally of breakups. But even he could sense something was wrong here. Her edginess should be easing with every mile they put between themselves and Rubistan.

Should be.

But wasn’t.

Eleven years of distance between them didn’t matter. He owed this woman, and until her frown smoothed, he wouldn’t back off.

He was doing this for her. And for the boys. Not because he wanted to find out if the freckles dotting her smooth creamy skin had faded with age. “I need your help with stuff like asthma meds and nut allergies. At this rate, the boys won’t make it through the week with me.”

Mary Elise straightened in her seat. Daniel looked deeper into those lush green eyes that had once been so expressive and wondered when she’d learned to close herself off.

“I’ll make a list.” Her cool efficiency almost covered her underlying edginess. Almost. “Starting with Austin’s EpiPen.”

“Eppie what?”

“Epinephrine injection pen. Medicine in case he accidentally eats something with nuts or peanut oil or—”

“Stop.” He made a giant T with his hands. “Time out. You can compile lists all day long and it won’t change the fact that I have no experience with kids. I need help settling the boys.”

She pleated her pants between fidgety fingers. “You haven’t made any accommodations for them?”

“Hell, Mary Elise, I was a little busy planning how to smuggle them out of Rubistan without getting our asses shot off.”

“Oh.”

“Apology accepted.”

Her hands flattened on her trim thighs, a smile playing with her lips. “Uh, sorry?”

He winked. “No problem.”

A smile and a wink linked them more than all his earlier speeches.

The deafening din of engines and the closed curtain offered a bubble of privacy and protection from being overheard. Not that he had thoughts of unrolling the past with her. He hadn’t been much for emotional sharefests then, either.

Besides, he didn’t want to trek back to the past. Too many memories waited there of a time he’d been less of a man. Too much his father’s son—seducing an innocent, betraying a friendship. His father’s wedding had marked a time of rotten decisions for everyone.

Halfway into a bottle of champagne, Daniel had found himself watching nineteen-year-old Mary Elise with new eyes. Another shared bottle and some consolation later, Daniel had found himself looking at all of Mary Elise with new eyes.

“What happens now?”

She’d asked him that then as well. What do I do now, Danny?

God help him, he’d shown her.

He’d been so pissed at his old man for going the whole trophy wife route. He didn’t deal well with emotions on a good day, and a bad day had a way of playing hell with a man’s self-control. Today marked another one of his worst days on record, but he wouldn’t screw up this time. No matter how enticing the image of draping that red hair over his chest. Mary Elise over him.

Mary Elise sighing.

“Danny?” She flung her hair over her shoulder in a crimson waterfall. “If you haven’t made arrangements for the boys, what do you propose we do once we land?”

“Hell if I know.” Then or now. “And it doesn’t look as if Trey knows what to do about me any more than I know what to do about him.”

Her brows pulled tighter, deepening her perpetual frown. “You aren’t going to give them up. Are you?”

“No. Absolutely not. I’ll figure it out. Soon.”

“Once you’re through worrying about our asses.”

He did not want to think about her ass. “Right.” Daniel scrubbed a hand over his bristly chin. “I have leave time built up. I’ll take it now until the boys and I can work out a plan. But I sure would appreciate your help for the next few days. Since you’re an American Express card short of being able to check into a Motel 6, I’m thinking we can make a trade.”

She shot him a disapproving look that had likely commanded boardrooms, then later classrooms. “Or you could do the gentlemanly thing and loan me a couple hundred bucks.”

Already he could feel her slipping away. Damn it, the boys needed her. And while he might not be Captain Communication, he wasn’t walking away without finding out what had her forehead trenched deeper than a fresh-plowed field. “Sure, I could loan you the money.”

“But you don’t want to.” Mary Elise willed away the rogue twinge of excitement. She wanted to say her goodbyes. Right? Danny had been a generous friend. An exciting lover.

And a lousy boyfriend.

Once that boyfriend/lover line had been crossed, recapturing the friendship became impossible. She knew keeping her distance now lent more credence to her feelings all those years ago. But her heart bore too many scars to risk opening it again.

All the same, guilt nudged her to say, “The boys do need me.”

“Yes, ma’am, they do,” he continued with a sincerity too reminiscent of past times conning his way out of trouble. “This is about more than asthma and EpiPens. Trey and Austin are alone and scared. They don’t know me from Adam.”

She didn’t buy into the Danny-perfected con tones for even a minute, but his logic had merit. Turning away from Austin crying in the crate hadn’t been an option. Why did she think now would be any different?

Scar tissue also made a person tough. She would hang on to that for the next few days with Danny and the boys. “Okay, okay! I actually agreed two arguments ago. You always were persistent.”

“And you were always too nice.”

Watching the dimples creep into Daniel’s cheeks and past her defenses, Mary Elise decided “nice” didn’t factor anywhere into her swirl of emotions. “Nice? Careful, Danny, or I’ll change my mind.”

“So you’ll help me for a couple of weeks?”

“A couple of days.” Hopefully enough time to formulate a new plan.