Claiming Bailey Read online

  “You’re being awfully secretive, and it’s making me nervous.”

  “Don’t be,” he said immediately and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “I have a feeling from this day forward, your life is gonna get better.”

  “It can’t get worse,” Bailey mumbled.

  “Don’t bet on it,” Clayson returned. “Shit can always get worse.”

  “That’s true. Hey, you think one of the guys will come over and look after Joel for a few hours for me tomorrow night?”

  “I’ll call and ask them for you. If they can’t, I will.”

  “Thanks, Clayson. Seriously,” Bailey said. She didn’t ask for much from anyone, but with the quick way her boss answered, she knew he wasn’t put out in the least.

  “Go on,” he told her. “Get home and feed that boy. Have a good weekend, and I’ll see you on Monday. I want all the details about your date.”

  Bailey chuckled. “You’re worse than a girl.”

  He shrugged. “Old men need to get their jollies where they can.”

  “Whatever,” she returned. “See you on Monday. Have a good weekend yourself.”

  “Plan to. Mrs. Davis texted me and told me she got a new nightie.”

  Bailey threw her hands up to her ears and covered them as she walked away from Clayson. “TMI, God! I don’t want to know that!” But she was smiling as she said it. Secretly, she thought Clayson and his wife were as cute together as they could be. The fact that they still had a healthy sex life was awesome . . . even if she didn’t want to hear about it.

  When she heard him chuckle, she took a hand off her ear, held it over her head, and waggled it at him. When she reached her car, she looked back and caught his chin lift. Clayson might be in his mid- to late fifties, but he was definitely not a nerd, as his goodbye clearly indicated.

  Chapter Seven

  The next morning while Joel played in his room on his video-game console, Bailey lay in bed, dozing. She wasn’t asleep, but wasn’t really awake either. They’d watched a movie until late last night, and after Joel had gone to bed, she’d lain awake for several hours . . . thoughts of Nathan and what secrets he might be hiding running through her head, keeping her from falling asleep.

  Her phone rang, scaring her to death. Bailey reached over, snatched it off the bedside table, and clicked it on.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Bailey. It’s Nathan.”

  “Hey.”

  “Did I wake you up?”

  “No, not really.”

  “Not really?” Nathan asked, laughter in his voice.

  “I’m in bed, but I wasn’t sleeping.”

  Bailey would’ve sworn Nathan’s voice lowered, but she could’ve been imagining it. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I can call back later.”

  “No, it’s fine. I was just thinking about getting up and showering anyway.”

  “I hope you haven’t changed your mind about tonight,” Nathan said.

  Bailey had changed her mind. About a hundred times. She vacillated between deciding she’d go and tell him that she could only be friends with him, to telling him flat out that it wasn’t a good idea. She opened her mouth to tell him the latter when he spoke.

  “I really hope you haven’t,” he said earnestly. “First, because you’re the most interesting woman I’ve met in a really long time. There’s something about you that makes me almost desperate to get to know you better.”

  When he paused, Bailey asked, “And second?”

  He sighed. “And second, because I have something I need to talk to you about.”

  Bailey furrowed her brow at his answer. “What?”

  “Have dinner with me tonight, and I’ll tell you.”

  How did he know exactly what to say to get her to agree? Her curiosity had always gotten her in trouble. Her pa had been a master at teasing her to get her to cooperate. “Tell me now,” she demanded.

  “No. After dinner.”

  “You know you’re just pissing me off.”

  He had the nerve to chuckle, but didn’t say anything else.

  Bailey scooted up on her mattress until her back rested against the wall. She held the phone to her ear and laid her forehead on her upturned knees. She suddenly had the feeling that Nathan knew exactly who she was and everything about what and who she was hiding from. If that was the case, she’d be smart to pack Joel up into her Chevelle and leave town, but she really didn’t want to. Not only was Joel’s party next week, but she actually liked her job. The men she worked with. Living outside Castle Rock.

  She must’ve paused too long, because Nathan said softly. “You’re safe here.”

  How in the hell he could read her mind, she had no idea, but she lifted her head and said, “Okay.”

  “Give me your address, and I’ll pick you up around five.”

  Bailey hesitated for a moment, then gave him her address. A part of her wanted to keep it a secret, but it wasn’t as if she’d tried to hide it. Joel’s school had their address, as did Clayson. It would probably be an easy matter to find it if someone really wanted to. And she had a feeling Nathan really wanted to.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, wanting to know so she could dress appropriately.

  “Scarpetti’s.”

  Bailey gasped. She’d thought he’d say something like Applebee’s or the Rockyard American Grill & Brewing Company or something. Not the newest Italian place in Castle Rock. It had started out as any other Italian place, but the owner had somehow managed to lure renowned chef Cameron Grimbaldi back to Colorado from Italy to spend two months training the executive chef.

  Almost overnight the small restaurant had become the most popular place to eat, with patrons coming from Denver, Boulder, and Colorado Springs to experience Chef Grimbaldi’s creations.

  “But they require reservations to be made weeks in advance,” Bailey protested.

  “My brothers and I have an in with them,” Nathan said, not explaining further.

  “It’s awfully fancy,” Bailey tried again.

  “I can’t promise I know the correct fork to use for which course, but I won’t embarrass you.”

  Bailey shook her head in frustration. “It’s not you I’m worried about, Nathan. I don’t exactly fit in at a place like that.”

  “Why?”

  “My tattoos?” Bailey told him in a tone that clearly stated he should’ve known why.

  “They don’t bother me or any of my friends. Remind me to introduce you to one of the owners of the gym in town sometime. Felicity has arm sleeves too, but they aren’t as beautiful as yours.”

  Aren’t as beautiful as yours. Wow. “It’s expensive,” Bailey murmured, letting the tattoo thing go, yet still protesting. “We can just go to Cracker Barrel or something.”

  “It’s our first date. I want to go somewhere memorable. Treat you right.”

  “Okay. Fine.” It was silly to keep protesting. It was obvious Nathan had made up his mind and that he really did want to take her there. If she was being honest with herself, she’d been curious about the restaurant ever since Clayson talked about it after taking his wife there for their anniversary dinner. She loved Italian food, and now that she’d given in, she couldn’t wait to taste the delicious creations the chef was known for.

  “I’ll be at your place around five. You got someone to watch Joel?”

  “Yeah. Clayson called earlier and said Duke, a guy from work, could do it.”

  “Good. Call if something comes up. Okay?”

  “I will.”

  “Go take your shower, Bailey. I’ll see you later.”

  “Bye.”

  He hung up without saying anything else. Bailey hugged her knees for a moment, lost in the pleasure coursing through her at the anticipation of her first real date in what seemed like forever. Then another through struck her. Shit! What was she going to wear?

  She jumped out of bed and hurried to her closet. It wasn’t hard to look through the few clothes she had and to know she had n
othing that would be appropriate for dinner at Scarpetti’s.

  “Joel!” she shouted, wrenching open her bedroom door.

  “What?” his muffled voice returned.

  “We need to go to town as soon as I’ve showered.”

  “Okay!” he hollered back, and Bailey relaxed. It looked like her brother was in a good mood, which was a pleasant surprise. Sometimes all he wanted to do was hang out at home and play his games, but she refused to leave him there alone . . . just in case.

  He didn’t particularly like tagging after her as she did errands, especially when she went clothes shopping at the thrift shop, but it couldn’t be helped. Hopefully one of the two secondhand stores in town would have an appropriate outfit in her size.

  Nathan sat back in his office chair and sighed in relief. He’d thought that Bailey would back out, but was thrilled she hadn’t. It was obvious she wanted to, but her curiosity about what he wanted to talk to her about, and the lure of Scarpetti’s, was enough to make her agree.

  After he’d driven home the night before, he’d made the decision to tell her everything. That he knew who she was, about his family’s connection to the gang, and most important, that Donovan was out of jail and probably looking for her.

  She might decide not to have anything to do with him after dinner, but he hoped he could convince her that he and his brothers would do everything they could to keep Joel and her safe. He hoped that the added protection for her brother would convince her not to tell him to go to hell and skip town.

  It was certainly a possibility.

  The chance that she’d hate him by the end of the night was another reason why he wanted to pick Bailey up, so she’d have no choice but to let him take her home at the end of the night.

  “You think this is the right thing?” Blake asked.

  He and Logan were in the office early because they were headed up to Boulder for a job. Nathan had told them his plan for the night with Bailey, and they weren’t exactly excited about it.

  “I won’t lie to her. She needs to know,” Nathan said firmly.

  “She might run,” Logan observed.

  “She might,” Nathan agreed, “but she might not. I just need to convince her that it’s in her best interest to work with us and to trust me . . . us.”

  “We can meet you guys when we get home tonight,” Blake suggested.

  Nathan clenched his teeth together, his jaw flexing with the force. He hated that his brothers didn’t think he could handle Bailey. He might not be Mr. Suave, but their lack of confidence in him stung.

  As if he knew exactly what his brother was thinking, Logan said softly, “It’s not that we don’t think you have the ability to get her to open up to you, to trust you. It’s just that she grew up around the Inca Boyz. She’s probably a master at manipulation and doesn’t trust easily. And face it, you’re nothing like Donovan.”

  Nathan knew what his brother meant, but it still hurt. “You’re right. I’m nothing like him. I’m a good man who treats women as if they’re more than a piece of ass. Otherwise, I’m fully aware of my shortcomings when it comes to the opposite sex.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s fine,” Nathan said, interrupting Logan. “I know what you meant. And you’re right. But there’s something between us. She’ll listen to me. Trust me.”

  “We do,” Blake told him. “Let us know tomorrow what you need from us.”

  The support was a bit late, but still welcome. “I will. Oh, and her brother, Joel, is having a birthday party next weekend at Phillip S. Miller Park. I got the feeling he wasn’t sure many of his classmates would show up, so I asked if you guys could come. He was keen on the idea. And Grace and Alexis are also invited.”

  “It depends if Grace has had our babies or not, but if possible, we’ll be there.”

  “I’m sure Alexis would love it,” Blake said. “How old is he?”

  “Ten.”

  “I’ll talk to Grace,” Logan told his brother. “If he won’t have many of his kids from his school there, I’m sure she could talk to Felicity and see if she might invite some of the patrons from Rock Hard Gym as well. If it wouldn’t be an imposition.”

  Nathan thought about it for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I think that’d be great. If they’ve got bikes, Rollerblades, or a hoverboard or something, tell ’em to bring ’em.”

  Logan nodded. “Will do. Whether or not me and Grace can be there, we’ll make sure there are some kids who’ll show up.”

  “Appreciate it,” Nathan said, nodding at his brother.

  “Of course. It’s tough being a new kid in town. How many birthdays did we spend with just the three of us?”

  All three men chuckled.

  “How about all of them? Mom was too cheap to let us have a party,” Blake said. “Oh, speaking of which, I found a journal of Mom’s in all the crap left in the house. Actually, Alexis found it when she was cleaning out the office to get ready for the construction to begin in there. There’s still a ton of paperwork I need to go through, lots of Dad’s papers, but when Alexis flipped through the pages of Mom’s journal, she found something interesting.”

  “A journal?” Logan asked, leaning back and putting his hands on his head. He looked relaxed, but it was obvious to his brothers that he was anything but.

  “Yeah. You know how we always wondered why she was so bitter and mean?” Blake asked.

  Logan and Nathan nodded.

  “I haven’t read all of it, but I think self-preservation was part of it.”

  “What do you mean?” Nathan asked.

  “I don’t know for sure, and I could be wrong, but the journal is from when she was a teenager. Apparently her dad regularly beat both her mom and her.”

  The silence in the office was heavy and oppressive as Blake’s words sunk in. The brothers had never met their grandparents, and perhaps this was why.

  “Seriously?” Logan asked. “She knew firsthand what it was like to be afraid of her father, and yet she turned out to be exactly like him?”

  “Dad wouldn’t have hit her,” Nathan said in a low tone.

  “I agree, but from what she wrote in her journal, her father literally beat her every day of her life from the time she could remember to the time he died of a heart attack when she was seventeen. By then, she’d learned that having the upper hand was the only way to keep herself safe.”

  “I’ll be in the truck,” Logan said flatly to Blake, then walked out of the office, the door closing behind him with a loud click.

  Nathan looked at Blake after their brother left. “It makes sense in a warped way.”

  Blake nodded. “Unfortunately, a lot of children who grow up in abusive households become abusers themselves. It’s the only thing they know. The only kind of relationship they understand.”

  Nathan nodded. He knew the statistics as well as his brothers did. “But it’s more unusual for a woman to become the abuser. She’s typically more likely to become a battered woman. We’ve seen that over and over in the last year we’ve run Ace Security.”

  “But it’s not unheard of,” Blake said.

  “You ever wonder why dad never left her?” Nathan asked.

  “Dad took his marriage vows very seriously. He might not have liked Mom, but once he married her, that was it,” Blake insisted. “Besides, he had us. He wouldn’t have left us with her.”

  Nathan wasn’t sure he completely agreed with his brother. About their dad not wanting to leave them with their mom, yes. But not about the marriage vows. Their dad could’ve fought for custody. Nathan knew he would’ve said whatever needed to be said to get away from Rose Anderson. They were quiet for a moment before Nathan said, “It sucks that she couldn’t see Dad for what he was—a good, gentle man.”

  “And it sucks more that she saw her own sons as a possible future threat and treated us accordingly.”

  Nathan nodded. “Give him some time,” he said, referring to Logan. “It’s going to be hard for him to s
ee her as a victim when he took the brunt of her abuse growing up.”

  “Yeah,” Blake said, years of hurt and confusion evident in his voice.

  “I’ll call tomorrow and bring you up to date on Bailey’s situation.”

  “All right.” Blake paused for a moment. “You want a copy of the journal?”

  Nathan was tempted to say no, but he knew himself. Eventually he’d get curious and want to know for himself what their mom went through to make her the woman she’d become . . . an abuser and murderer. “Yeah. And if you find anything else interesting in Dad’s papers, I’d love to see those too. No rush, though.”

  “Got it.”

  “Don’t forget to ask Alexis about next Saturday,” Nathan told him.

  “Will do. Later, Bro.”

  “Later.”

  Nathan stared at the door long after Blake had left, lost in thought, then finally pulled himself together and turned to his computer. Their monthly taxes were due, and he needed to send off their 401(k) contribution to their financial planner and pay some bills.

  His mind whirling with not only the bombshell Blake had dropped, but what he was going to tell Bailey that night, Nathan got to work.

  Chapter Eight

  “You’re gonna be good for Duke tonight, right?” Bailey asked Joel as she smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear for the tenth time that night. She’d found a perfect little black dress at the second thrift shop she’d visited that afternoon, thank God. It had long sleeves and it was relatively modest. It had a scoop neck in the front and back and hugged her torso before flaring out into a cute flouncy skirt that hit her right at her knees. It wasn’t exactly her style, but since her options were limited, and it hid all her gang tattoos she stupidly had inked on her skin, it was exactly what she needed.

  She’d showered and shaved her legs, then took the time to blow-dry and style her thick black hair. It was easier to keep it up in a ponytail and out of her face day to day, but for tonight, she wanted to look her best for Nathan.

  She’d gone a little heavy on her makeup since she assumed the lighting at Scarpetti’s would be dim, and the overall result was that Bailey felt better about herself than she had in a long time. She felt feminine and pretty. And even though she’d decided she’d tell Nathan she could only be friends, that she didn’t want anything more, a part of her hoped he’d appreciate the effort she put into getting ready for the night anyway.