Mine to Hold (3 page)

“Delaney . . .” Tyler didn’t know what the hell to say. It wasn’t
all
his fault. But a good deal of the blame rested on his shoulders. The need to know why she was here now also kept circling his brain.

“It’s okay. I know you have company and that this is uncomfortable. I know I handled everything between us badly in the past. I’m sorry. I regret it like hell.”

Delaney’s blue eyes filled up with tears. As she fought them back, Tyler resisted the urge to comfort her as he had when they’d been friends . . . then more.

“Can I come in? There’s something we really need to talk about—and we shouldn’t do it on your porch.”

Everything inside Tyler seized up. The last time they’d talked, she’d asked him to leave, then cut him out of her life. Whatever was on her mind, it would be heavy. She hadn’t come all the way to Lafayette from Los Angeles to shoot the shit.

Despite everything, how the hell could he say no? He’d ruined her life, and deep down, he’d been pretty damn sure that would be the outcome the second the deed was done. He owed her. Besides, he’d never been in love . . . but he’d come perilously close with Delaney.

“Sure.” He swallowed, grabbed her duffel, and stepped back. “Come in. How did you know I had company?”

Delaney glanced at the object with the tall plastic handle beside her, the rest hidden by the exterior wall of the porch. She looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I rang the doorbell a bit ago, and no one answered. So I popped around to the side of the house and . . . saw that you weren’t alone.”

“They’re my buddies’ wives.” He’d meant the words as an explanation, a defense. Then he winced. God, Delaney probably already imagined—with good reason—that he was fucking each and every one of them.

“It’s none of my business.” She glanced at the hidden object beside her again, then the empty street behind her. “I came because I need your help. Really badly and right now.”

“You look tired, Del. And too thin. Come in and tell me what you need.”

She drew in a deep breath, then bent to the hidden item just beside her. A trunk? A dolly? Did she mean to move in?

A moment later, she straightened up, clutching a child. A little boy. He was deadweight in her arms, half asleep, his face against her shoulder, thick blond hair askew. Tyler’s heart skidded to a stop.

The kid’s meaty hands and feet peeked out beyond the arms and legs of his Spider-Man pajamas that were just a bit too small. He hooked one arm around Delaney’s neck, then began rubbing an eye with his little fist. Then the kid turned. That little face possessed the Murphy nose. His own green eyes, uncertain and watchful, stared back at him.

Tyler’s entire body went cold. His jaw dropped as his mind came to a screeching halt.
Oh God. Oh fucking God . . .

“Tyler, meet your son, Seth.”

His son
. Tyler had known this kid was his at a glance. A thousand emotions pelted him at once. Shock blazed through his system first. Wonder crashed in next.

He had a son. He and Delaney had created life together that beautiful May night when he’d finally stopped seeing her as a friend and had little choice but to touch her as a woman.

But she’d never bothered to tell him. Had she even tried to find him or just decided that he was irrelevant and had the child on her own?

Fury swept over him, relentless. One scathing accusation after another perched on the edge of his tongue. Gritting his teeth, he pushed it down for the boy’s sake.

“Hi, Seth,” he spoke in soft tones, then speared Delaney with a glare that dared her to defy him. “I want to hold him now.”

Suddenly, Tyler ached to. This was his son.
His
 . . . with her.

Regret made Delaney’s mouth tremble as she nodded. She kissed the little boy’s head, then whispered, “It’s okay, little man.”

Seth frowned and watched him suspiciously, but went into his arms without a fight. Then Tyler was holding his son for the first time, wrapping him as tightly in his arms as he dared.

He tried to swallow, but his throat felt too tight. His jaw ached. His heart beat fast, like a fucking racehorse at the Kentucky Derby. Something warm flooded his chest. Tyler had never fallen instantly in love with anything or anyone, but Seth seized his heart in a single moment. He kissed the little boy’s forehead, and the feeling swelled tenfold.

“Why am I just now finding out about him?” Tyler tried to keep his voice calm and even. But his eyes accused her. What he really wanted to know was how the fuck she could have robbed him of the first fifteen months of his own son’s life.

She glanced at the street behind her again apprehensively and shimmied out of the porch’s light. “You have every right to be angry. Things were complicated, and you became impossible to find once you moved out of state. And I know those seem like poor excuses. At the end of the day, I didn’t know what to tell you or if you’d even care. You can take it out of my hide later. I’m sure I deserve it. But right now, I need your help. I need you to protect Seth.” She swallowed, her red-rimmed eyes looking stark and afraid. “Someone is trying to kill me.”

***

TYLER’S
face changed immediately, closing up, tensing. Cop mode; she recognized it. He might not be an LAPD Vice detective anymore, but some instincts never changed.

He dragged her into the house, then rolled her duffel and their son’s stroller into the little foyer. Shoulders taut, he slammed the door, then locked it behind him.

When he turned to her again, his green eyes were laser sharp and focused. “Tell me everything.”

Delaney licked her lips, her legs about to wobble out from under her. She was starving and exhausted. All of her cash had gone toward feeding Seth and buying gas. She hadn’t dared to use her credit cards.

Her thoughts were racing, and her son stirred restlessly. He’d been cooped up for days. Now that he was awake, he would want to roam around. As a mother who knew the bastard after her didn’t care if Seth was collateral damage, she was terrified to let the little boy out of her sight.

Sensing her problem, Tyler gently rocked him. “Hey, it’s okay.”

Seth frowned. Delaney handed the little boy the last of his apple juice from his sippy cup and a few animal crackers in the colorful but dented box.

Once he settled down, she risked a glance at Tyler. The man was waiting for an explanation—and not patiently. Where to begin?

“You remember Martin Carlson?”

“One of L.A.’s upcoming assistant district attorneys, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Slimy bastard.”

“That one, yes.” She sighed. “You know how Eric always teased me about reporting on fluff pieces, like society baby showers and dog shows, when I first started writing for the
Times
?”

He shrugged. “Of course.”

“So I pushed and pushed my editor, Preston, for meatier stories. On New Year’s Eve, he assigned me to cover a party that Martin Carlson and his wife were giving. During the party, I sneaked away to call the babysitter and check on Seth. I overheard Carlson on the phone, talking. He threatened that he’d better see the money show up in his Cayman account or the police would be banging on the door the next day. Then I heard Carlson specifically call Double T by name and tell the guy not to fuck him over or he was going to find his ass in prison and his operation shut down.”

Thunder rolled across Tyler’s face. “The gangster Double T of the 18th Street gang?”

“Precisely,” Delaney said grimly. “Everyone who knows anything about the drug scene near the Pico-Union district knows that he rules his turf with an iron fist. Carlson didn’t see me, thank God. It was a short conversation, two minutes max. But after that, I started digging. I wanted to write a story that would blow Preston away.”

“Oh, fuck. Double T isn’t the person to get all tenacious and crusading about.”

“Preston said the same thing. He wanted me to call the feds.”

“Clearly, you didn’t listen.” And Tyler looked more than pissed about that fact. “So Double T is trying to kill you because you know some of his crap?”

“I think it’s Carlson, actually. I got my hands on a copy of one of the evidence logs down at your old precinct, Rampart. I’m pretty sure it was tampered with. A whole bunch of guns and bags of white powder, supposedly with Double T’s prints, suddenly turned up missing. I took a picture of the original log. Carlson and some beat cop went in the evidence room. But when I looked again, it only listed the beat cop’s name. I hunted that rookie down and found out he’d supposedly died during a drive-by.”

The frown that crossed Tyler’s face wasn’t comforting. “Gangsters don’t usually shoot cops without provocation. It brings too much shit raining down on their head, which is bad for business.”

“Exactly. No one else died in the incident, either. One shooter, one bullet, which seemed even more fishy. So I kept investigating. I found one of Double T’s lieutenants, Lobato Loco, who wanted to make a power play, so he was willing to talk off the record. He didn’t like his boss giving the ADA a cut of the money and figured that he could eliminate the problem and Double T at once by snitching anonymously to a reporter. He said he’d sign an affidavit to that effect.

“Armed with information, I went to Carlson’s office and asked him about his dealings with Double T on the record. Of course he denied everything, but after that, shit started happening fast. I went to the police, but none of Eric’s buddies wanted to lift a finger to help the bitch who’d cheated on him, least of all that creep, Becker the Pecker. So I had to fend for myself, especially since I didn’t have any tangible proof of Carlson’s guilt.”

“Motherfucker,” Tyler muttered. “Did you tell Eric this? You might be divorced, but he wouldn’t want you dead.”

“I left messages. He didn’t call back.” She pressed her lips together, watching as Tyler got angry all over again.

In some ways, Tyler had always been more protective than Eric. Her ex-husband had always said that she was strong and capable. He’d never seen her as needing a champion. Tyler had his affable moments, but underneath, he was pure caveman. He’d threatened to bust up just about any asshole at Rampart who’d dared to ogle her or acted a bit too friendly.

“Wait!” She pushed a hand against Tyler’s chest when he looked ready to charge forward and find someone to beat the crap out of.

But her fingers encountered hard muscle, bulges, sinew—all male. Delaney gulped and withdrew her hand from the burning heat of Tyler’s skin. Too often, she’d mentally replayed their night together and remembered the utter masculine perfection of his body. The way his lips had lingered on her neck, his rough fingertips had scraped every inch of her flesh, his sex-roughened growl had talked her through each one of the five orgasms he’d given her in that sublime hour.

Those thoughts wouldn’t help her now. Lives were on the line.

“What the fuck am I supposed to wait for? I’m going to tear Eric a new one. And Carlson was always a fucking prick, more concerned with his own ambition than justice. If he’s threatening you, I’m going to put a stop to it.”

“You can’t.” She shook her head. His urge to help her was sweet . . . but misguided. “I started this. I have to finish it. Lobato Loco will only talk to me. No one else knows the facts like I do. Or has cultivated the contacts. But I can’t keep Seth in the middle of this danger. After the bomb destroyed my Toyota—I’m so glad I hadn’t strapped Seth in his car seat before I started the car with my key fob—I realized that—”

“The prick bombed your car?” Now Tyler sounded beyond furious. He’d gone deadly, with his jaw clenched damn tight. Delaney wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him so enraged. “They meant to kill both you and our son?”

“Me more than Seth. Focus. All the admittedly circumstantial evidence I’d collected against Carlson was in that car, and now it’s gone. He means business. So I need you to protect Seth. It kills me to ask this of you.” She pressed her lips together, her eyes watering as she stroked her son’s arm, then gripped his little hand. “So please, don’t make this harder. I don’t want to leave him, but I’d rather he be alive with you than dead with me. No one knows you’re his father, and no one will think to look for him here. I have to go back to California and fix this mess. While I do, please keep our son safe.”

Chapter Two

C
LENCHING
his jaw, Tyler stared at Delaney. Clearly, the woman had lost her mind if she thought for an instant that he was going to stay behind and babysit while she threw herself headlong into danger. The bad shit was his department; she’d never faced it, and he’d be damned if he let her do it alone.

But he also knew Delaney. If he argued, she’d only dig in her heels. Tyler weighed his words carefully. “I’ll be very glad for any time you give me to get to know Seth.”

She released the pent-up breath she’d been holding and closed her eyes. “Thank you.”

“But before I agree to anything, we’re going to do a little bargaining, angel.”

He intentionally sent her his most dazzling smile, the one that had been melting hearts and panties since he was thirteen.

Delaney knew him too well. Her eyes narrowed. “What do you want? Spit it out.”

If anything, his smile widened. “Who says I’m going to ask for much?”

She snorted. “Oh my God . . . Do you forget how many times I’ve seen that expression? You’re going to ask for the moon, then act like it’s nothing. Then you’ll ask for the stars, and smooth talk me until I either (a) think it was my idea or (b) thank you for the suggestion—or both. Not this time, buster. I’m not listening. This is one request I know you won’t refuse me. Regardless of what happened between us in the past, I know you don’t want to see your son die.”

“Absolutely true. But I’m also not willing to let you walk out the door again without some assurances that, from here on out, I have some parental rights.” Which was true, but not his primary concern at the moment.

Surprised crossed her face. “You want visitation?”

At the very least, but they’d do details later. “Something like that. But I also want you to think about what you’re doing. What happens to Seth’s emotional stability if his mama leaves him with a stranger, then comes back in a pine box?”

She closed her eyes. “I’ll have to figure out how to not die, I guess. I’d walk away from this, if I could. But Carlson is going to come after me no matter what. He’s not going to leave a loose end like me hanging.”

No, he wouldn’t.

“I can’t take Seth with me. Carlson won’t care if he becomes collateral damage. My baby is too young . . .” She sobbed, sniffed, then tried to find her fortitude to press on. “I’m his mother, and I’m choosing life and safety for him.”

Over her own.
Damn
. Tyler respected the hell out of her for this, but he also wanted to throttle her. He stroked his chin absently, hashing out a plan. It wasn’t perfect and it forced him to prioritize objectives, but he could roll with it. If he achieved his primary goal—keeping Delaney safe and eliminating Carlson—then the rest of his wants might take care of themselves.

“Del, you need someone to watch your back while you clear up this mess.”

“I need someone to watch Seth’s back more.”

For some reason, he found it incredibly sexy that Delaney was such a devoted mother. He wasn’t equating her mothering skills with his desire to fuck her . . . Rather, it was seeing her fierce side, her determination, that started his blood pumping south of his belt buckle again.

“Understood. We’ll work it out.” He’d have to move carefully or his plan would backfire. “You look exhausted. Sit down. When did you last eat? Sleep?”

“It’s not relevant.” Delaney shook her head, sinking into the recliner beside her. “Are you going to help me or not?”

“We’ll get there. Before now, how hard did you try to find me?”

She heaved an exhausted sigh. “We’re going to play this game, huh? Okay, if you want me to be honest, not very hard.” She pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “As soon as Eric found out I was pregnant, we separated for good. I was dealing with a lot—a new place to live, morning sickness, being served divorce papers . . . you being gone.”

“You told me to leave.” And goddamn it, if she hadn’t meant that, he was going to string himself up for listening.

“I did. Eric couldn’t handle what happened between us. I thought giving us all some time and space would help.”

Her request had damn near destroyed Tyler, but he had lived with it because he’d thought it would help Del and Eric. He’d thought he was giving her what she needed. But clearly not.

Still, in the long run, Del was better off without her ex-husband.

Delaney’s breath trembled. “Then Eric told me that you’d moved out of state and left for good.”

Tyler froze. “Did he lead you to believe that I didn’t want to come back? That I wasn’t dying to call you twenty times a day and find out if you were okay? Because that’s complete bullshit.”

Those blue eyes of hers turned up to him, wide, teary. “He didn’t say anything, and I didn’t know what to think. Your reputation with women . . .”

The same one Alyssa and the other girls had been nagging him about fifteen minutes ago, before Delaney had knocked his world upside down—for the second time in his life. Ironic that his long string of conquests had come back to haunt him with a vengeance. His own Karma boomeranging him in the ass. And every friend he’d made in Lafayette would know it in the next few minutes.

“Is that really why you didn’t try harder to reach me? I would have helped. I would have done whatever the hell you wanted.”

Yes, he’d been best buddies with Eric since shortly after becoming his partner in Vice. But in some ways, he’d been closer to Delaney, connected more with her sense of humor, her intelligence. Something about her . . . He hadn’t really tuned into what that was until he’d been balls deep inside her and falling for her fast. Until it was too late.

She shook her head. “I needed a father for Seth, and we both know you’re short on commitment. At first, I was angry that you’d left without another word. I was tired and pissed and hormonal. I told myself it would serve you right to not know about your child.” Tyler opened his mouth to object, and Delaney waved him off. “It lasted ten minutes. Then I felt . . . abandoned. I figured you’d gone on a case. But then your PI business closed and you didn’t come back. I knew you must be using an assumed name, and it would take me time to find you. Eric certainly wasn’t going to help me.”

Mentally, Tyler added that to the list of Eric’s infractions and planned to gleefully beat the shit out of him for being a raving douche.

“And I guess . . . there was a part of me that wanted this child to be
mine
. Everyone else in my life had left me—my parents died, Eric divorced me, you walked away—but this baby . . . I could raise him with love and get back unconditional love in return. I didn’t mean to be selfish. I think”—she blew out a noisy breath—“I was just hurting. I know it was lousy. I’m sorry.”

Fuck, she’d always had a way of diffusing his anger, and today was no different. In her place, he’d have been so angry, he’d have done serious damage.

She sobbed once, then clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to hold it in. Tyler crouched down next to her, settled a quizzical Seth into her lap, then wrapped his arm around her. She clutched her son, then stiffened, retreating into the back of the chair—away from him. Tyler sighed, all kinds of pissed off at the disappointment gnawing in his gut, then gave Del some space.

“You need to eat, angel. And rest.” He stared down at his son, now patting his mother’s hand as if he understood that she needed consoling. “How about you, Seth? Want a peanut butter sandwich?”

Delaney’s head whipped up. “He’s allergic to peanut butter. I’ll make a list of his allergies and write out his routine.”

Great. That would come in handy—for someone else
.

“What can he eat?”

She wiped away her tears impatiently, then sent a wobbly smile to Seth. “We like eggs, don’t we? We eat lots of eggs.”

“Egg!” Seth gave her a snaggletooth smile.

Tyler grinned. Well, hot damn. Eggs had always been one of his favorite foods, too.

“Eggs it is.”

“Thanks.” As if she realized that she’d smiled at him, too, Delaney blinked and looked away. “Can I use your bathroom? I need to change Seth.”

Tyler pointed down the hall, and she grabbed a diaper bag from the stroller. “Take your time. Scrambled with cheese?”

“You remember how I like eggs?” She bit her lip, as if trying to conceal the fact that it pleased her.

Fuck that. He was going to find out exactly how she felt. The whole shitty house of cards may have toppled once, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to find a way to rebuild it at least enough to be on good terms with his son’s mother.

But he was beginning to suspect that wouldn’t be enough for him. Despite looking ragged and tired, Delaney was still one of the sexiest women to him. So sharp in some ways, innocent in others. Determined, brave . . . stubborn. Yeah, he was going to have to get past the walls she’d erected if he wanted to play a role in her life beyond Seth’s father.

“Of course, I remember.”

“But you don’t like cheese in eggs.” She frowned.

Ah, and she remembered, too. He shrugged. “I can adjust.”

After a cock of her head, like she was trying to figure out exactly what he meant, she lifted Seth and carted him down the hall. The second the door shut and locked, Tyler sent out a quick text, then darted toward the patio. All the instigators of his “intervention” still sat there, drinking and clearly trying to decide how best to direct his life. He was about to give them one great big heaping dose of help.

Sticking his head out the back door, he glanced at the ladies. “Come inside. Have I got a surprise for you . . .”

***

DELANEY
thanked God for the long countertop in the bathroom and laid Seth out. No doubt, he had to be wet by now.

“Da da da,” her son babbled.

Yeah, that’s your daddy
. Tyler had seen it immediately. It
was
obvious and probably better than having to prove Seth’s parentage to him. But it hadn’t escaped Del that Tyler hadn’t yet committed to staying here and protecting Seth. And if she knew that man, he had something up his sleeve. Whatever ran around in Tyler’s half-crazy head, she couldn’t let him derail her. He had all kinds of incentive to keep Seth safe that no one else would. She was sticking to her guns. If she didn’t make it out of this alive . . . at least she knew Seth would be safe. And loved. Tyler, for all his seemingly carefree ways, had tremendous capacity for caring.

After a quick tug of Seth’s clothes, the wet diaper came off. A fresh one replaced it, then Del righted his shorts. She looked longingly at the shower. How she’d love to bathe with Seth, hold his little body close to her and revel in the skin-to-skin contact. She’d only stopped breast-feeding a few months ago, and she missed having him that close. Showers were like gold to her now.

But this wasn’t the time.

Quickly, she set Seth on his feet, used the toilet, then washed her hands. “Ready?”

In response, Seth blew air out of his lax lips, making noises like a car engine. She smiled softly, sniffing back fresh tears. He was little boy, through and through. She’d miss him desperately while she tried to nail Carlson to a wall and did everything in her power to make it back to her son alive.

Suddenly, a knock interrupted her thoughts. “You okay in there?”

“Be right out, Tyler.”

Gathering her things and taping up Seth’s wet diaper, she drew in a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom, down the hall, and into the kitchen—with the five other women from the patio. She stopped short.

They didn’t make any bones about staring at her with rampant curiosity.

Then the gorgeous platinum blonde stared at Seth and gasped. “Oh my God, Tyler. He looks just like you. Is he . . .”

“Yep. Mine.” Tyler’s expression was unreadable, but Del sensed a smile somewhere in there. Her mind racing, she tossed away Seth’s diaper. What the hell was this about?

“You’re just now telling us about him?” the pregnant redhead challenged.

The athletic, auburn-haired beauty tapped her foot. “Of course. He gets in the middle of all our shit, but notice that he doesn’t fess up about his own.”

The curvy Latina frowned. “True, but I don’t think that’s the issue this time. See how he looks at the boy, with curiosity and wonder. How long have you known?”

“Ten minutes.”

The women collectively gasped.

Del held Seth tighter. “Look, I didn’t know exactly how to find Tyler. And . . . what’s going on here?”

“Ladies, this an old . . . friend, Delaney Catalano. And my son, Seth.”

“Nice to meet you. He’s precious,” the other redhead, this one with the dancing dark eyes, said. “Tyler made him eggs. Can I feed him?”

Snapping around, Delaney spied a plate on the counter. Sure enough, steaming eggs and toast sat beside the stove. Seth saw, too—and lunged.

The platinum knockout caught him before he squirmed headfirst out of Del’s grasp. She scooped him right up against her chest and took him over to the eggs, calling over her shoulder, “I’m Alyssa, Tyler’s boss. I’ve got a little girl just about the same age as your boy. I probably won’t have more children, so I’d love the opportunity to spoil your son. Come on, Tara. Grab a spoon.” She tickled Seth’s cheek. “You hungry?”