Let Us Prey: BBW Military Paranormal Romance (Wild Operatives, #2) (3 page)

“To offer you a job.”

I opened the door to stare at him. “Bullshit.”

“Give me a second and hear me out. I’m told you’re in need of a job. As luck would have it, I need an employee.”

It was too good to be true, the perfect solution to my problem at the ideal time. I gazed at the handsome man on my doorstep and felt a cold stab of shame streak through me when I realized he could see the room behind me. The rough concrete floors needed another sweep, but it was the least of my troubles when I had a spreading water stain on the ceiling.

“May I come in to talk?”

“We can talk out here.” I scurried outside and shut the door behind me.

“I want to offer you a job. You see, I work out of town and my grandmother’s getting up in her years. The home health agency only gives her so many hours on the weekends, and she won’t hire a housekeeper through the week or allow me to do it for her.”

A flash of rage shot through me. “Housekeeping? Is this a joke? Is that it? Did you come to have a laugh at me too because no one wants to hire me for a real job in this shithole?”

“Leigh—”

“Fuck you, Mr. MacArthur. You can go to hell along with everyone else.”

I slammed the door in his face before the tears began, and within moments, I was reduced to uncontrollable sobs. Damn him. Damn him and everyone else laughing behind my back. In the privacy of my own home, I wiped at the hot flood trickling down my cheeks and succumbed to my anguish. I needed a legitimate, tax-paying job, and under the table work cleaning bathtubs wouldn’t cut it.

Maybe I brought it on myself, but why couldn’t they just allow me to wallow in my own well-deserved punishment without rubbing in the salt?

“Leigh?” Ian’s soft voice penetrated my flimsy door. A glance through the peephole showed the man hadn’t moved. “I only want to talk to you for a moment. I’m not here to make fun or judge you. If you’d just let me come in for a moment to talk...”

“Is it a real job?”

“A real job,” he confirmed.

I opened the door for him again after I wiped my face. “Okay.”

When Ian entered and removed his glasses, he barely gave my sparsely decorated home a glance. His eyes lingered on me, resting on my face instead of my thick thighs and single bare shoulder. His features held no judgment and lacked the mockery I expected.

“Thank you. I brought the paperwork with me, and you can keep it to review overnight if you’d like, or sign it now and I’ll take it with me. Choice is yours.”

He offered me a manila folder filled with official looking papers and not like something he’d typed up at home. The fancy letterhead and watermark featured a wolf’s head logo from the law offices of Argus Prescott.

“I’m sorry for losing my temper and slamming the door,” I apologized. “Can I get you anything? I have...”
Nothing. I have nothing to offer him except tap water.
Soda wasn’t in my budget lately. Food stamps could only get a single person so far.

“Water’s great.”

I set the papers on the coffee table — a handmade, beautiful piece my dad had carved and assembled himself about ten years ago — then gestured for him to have a seat on the paisley green sofa. I returned with his glass of ice water and joined him.

“Thank you, Leigh. Why don’t you take a moment to review those while I’m here in case you have any questions.”

My hands shook as I lifted the thin folder and flipped it open for a look. Responsibilities of the job and daily duties, a schedule, protocols for calling in sick, and a close set of rules to follow. He’d outlined everything professionally, complete with information about healthcare and vacation days.

“Vacation days?” I asked.

“Twenty-one days a year with two weeks advance notice so I can be there for her in your stead. I expect you to be at Gram’s place five days a week. You’ve got two paid sick days a month, but they’ll add up and won’t expire so make them count. But keep in mind, I’d prefer if my grandmother wasn’t made ill because you forced yourself on the job with the flu, got it?”

“Okay. What’s my pay?”

“Fifteen dollars an hour to start, paid every Friday. If you like it a month from now, I’ll raise you to twenty.”

Tears stung my eyes. “I... you want to pay me twenty dollars an hour to clean your grandmother’s house?” Sniffling and wiping my cheeks, I tried to maintain a calm expression. I couldn’t. Emotion burned my throat and tears spilled over my face too quickly to be dried for long. “This isn’t a joke?” I repeated again.

“It isn’t a joke.”

“Why help me? Why?”

“Well, I hope you’re not too mad at me, but I asked about you, and the way I see it, there’s a little girl depending on her mama finding a stable job. And I have a legally blind grandmother with rheumatoid arthritis. We need each other, right?” Ian asked.

I wanted to throw my arms around him and smother his neatly groomed face in kisses. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Mr. MacArthur—”

“Ian,” he said again with a pleasant smile on his handsome face. “Just call me Ian.”

“Ian,” I agreed. Shock made it impossible to convey my gratitude without floundering for words. I repeated the simplest ones. “Thank you.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a couple of questions for my own curiosity.”

My belly sank a little, like a lead weight hit the bottom of my gut. “Okay.”

“I know you’ve had some drug problems, Leigh. I want to believe it won’t be a problem again. I’m not one to mince words, so I’m sorry if I offend you but... what happened? Did your boyfriend get you hooked?”

“It
won’t
be a problem again,” I quickly blurted out, too defensive. “This is a bit of a long story, and it’s no excuse, but it started in college. I played volleyball until I blew out my knee at the start of my junior year. Surgery was out of the question because my dad was fighting cancer.”

“Right. You probably couldn’t afford two sets of medical bills,” Ian deduced.

“Yes. So my doc prescribed me some codeine while I did physical therapy. I got into therapeutic horseback riding at this ranch at the edge of town, volunteering to help the kids in exchange for riding lessons and time with the therapist. Loved it. At the start of my senior year, Dad’s cancer got worse. I dropped out to care for him and the ranch closed down due to lack of funds. They weren’t getting enough money to care for the horses even though the therapist and trainer volunteered their time. Because I’d dropped out of school, I lost my student insurance plan.”

Ian shook his head. “I wish I’d known about the ranch’s troubles. I knew they shut down, but never heard about why. I must have been away at the time.”

“Yeah. It was really sad. I couldn’t afford my doctor or a new therapist, so Dennis supplied me with codeine. I was too stupid to ask where it came from. Or I didn’t care. I was hurting and always needed one more to get through a day with Dad. The laryngectomy didn’t help him, you know? The surgeon missed some of the cancer, and it metastasized to his lymph nodes. He came home here to die instead of hospice in a facility.”

I swallowed and focused on my lap, fearing if I looked up at Ian, I’d see the judgment in his handsome face. Stealing a quick glance revealed compassion instead.

“I wanted to get help, Ian. I did. By the time I realized I had a problem, I was pregnant. I tried to kick it a dozen times on my own, but I was so afraid they’d take her from me. If I had it to do over again, I’d have never started taking them.” Time had given my knee the chance to heal, but I’d probably benefit from resuming therapy.

Ian’s fingers brushed the top of my hand in a reassuring stroke and left goose bumps in their wake. “It’s behind you now, Leigh. What about your boyfriend?”

“We’re done. I don’t even know what I saw in him anymore. His parents used to love me, you know?” These days, I couldn’t get them to talk to me unless it was my scheduled visit to see Sophia.

“What about the theft? Do I have to worry about you stealing?”

I shook my head. “I stole a television a couple years back when my dad lost his job and we fell on hard times. Welfare office was going to take forever to process our case, and your food pantry didn’t exist back then.”

“So you stole a TV to sell for money to buy food?”

My cheeks flared with heat. “It only made things worse for us and was a dumb thing to do. I can’t take it back and undo it, but I’ll always regret the way he looked at me when we had to go to court. I shamed him and myself trying to take the easy way out.”

Ian and I talked a while longer while I reviewed the rest of the papers. At the conclusion of our meeting, he wished me a good evening and made his way outside onto the pebbled road. He was gone and out of sight a few minutes later, leaving me to marvel over my change in luck.

I finally had the chance I needed to earn Sophia back. My prayers had been answered.

~Leigh~

M
y change in luck was too good to be true, leading me to believe I’d make the two-mile walk to Mrs. MacArthur’s house to meet an old lady who loathed me on sight. I was wrong. She drew me into a motherly embrace and kissed my cheek before inviting me inside.

Two hours later, I finished cleaning the kitchen from top to bottom. I reached all the nooks and crannies Ian neglected whenever he visited to help. Afterward, I tried to move on to the master bedroom of the small six room ranch style home, but Mrs. MacArthur dragged me into the living room and made me sit with her.

We watched soap operas until noon then I made her lunch, which she insisted on sharing.

“Sweetheart, if you’re going to make lunch for me, you have to make something for yourself. It’s just not right to watch someone else eat.”

“Mrs. MacArthur, I don’t think your grandson wants me eating your food while I’m here.”

“Baby, my grandson didn’t hire you to be my maid. He wants you to give me company, and
I
say I don’t like to eat alone.”

I made another sandwich for myself and took out fish to thaw for dinner. By the time Ian arrived from a day of work in Houston, doing whatever it was rich and sexy guys like him did, I’d whipped together a delicious meal for the three of us to enjoy.

After we ate, I scrubbed the dishes and cleaned my mess. I kissed Mrs. MacArthur, who firmly insisted on me calling her Betty, on the cheek and hugged her tight.

“Will I see you at the same time tomorrow?” she asked.

“Of course.”

I left her house with a big smile on my face and a feeling of self-worth I never knew was possible. Before my feet touched the sidewalk, the door opened again to frame Ian’s tall body.

“If you wait just a sec, I can give you a ride home, Leigh.”

His black Escalade chirped when he released the door locks by remote. A second later, the lights flashed and the engine powered on with a roar. I stared at him.

“Mr. Mac— Ian, you don’t have to drive me home. I like the walk.”

“I’d like to talk to you,” he countered.

I was positive he intended to fire me for some unknown transgression. My mind jumped to every worst possible conclusion until he stepped from his grandmother’s house precisely a minute later and flashed me a great big grin.

It wasn’t fair for one man to be so damned good looking. Ian’s high cheekbones made him resemble his late grandfather the most. There were old black and white photos of our town founder in the house. He was a handsome Native American man with flowing black hair past his shoulders and equally pale eyes. It must have been a family trait.

“So, tell me how you like it.” Ian fastened his seatbelt and waited for me to do the same. I clicked in quickly.

“Betty and I had an awesome time. I think she sees better than she lets you believe though. You wouldn’t believe how she moves around the kitchen.”

“Nah, she’s just good at fooling you. You’ll catch on,” he assured me.

Tucked into his car, I was keenly aware of everything about him. His cologne was subtle, a scent I associated with cool wind snaking between sweet autumn trees. Resisting the temptation to lean over and breathe him in became an exercise in willpower.

“You said you wanted to talk,” I prompted.

“When’s your next appearance in court?”

“I’m supposed to report having a job by next week, then we reconvene next month. The judge only gave me so much time to prove I can make a stable environment for Sophia.” I nervously bit my lower lip and stole another glance at my new boss. “I guess I have the job part done.”

“Then I’d better give you an advance on your paycheck so you can get a head start on providing the stable environment part.”

“An advance?”

He pulled out his wallet and a giant roll of cash bigger than anything I ever saw outside of a bank. I stared at him in amazement as he handed over ten crisp hundred dollar bills.

“What about the taxes?” I asked lamely. Math wasn’t my preferred subject of study in school, but I was positive 40 hours at 15 dollars wouldn’t add up to a grand.

Ian chuckled. “Well, we’ll just pretend between you and me that I paid you in exact change. Don’t count on it next time though. I’ll pay by check and you can open a bank account to cash it.”

“Okay,” I agreed while focusing on my lap. It was a better alternative to staring at my boss and melting over the way his grin crinkled his pale eyes at the corners. Or how he had just the perfect amount of scruff on his tanned face.

“I have big expectations out of you, Leigh. I trust you won’t relapse, but if you ever need to talk, I want you to call me, all right?” He passed me a business card with a U.S. Air Force eagle emblem above a blue banner announcing him as a veteran.

Colonel Ian MacArthur, Retired

MacArthur Security, Co.

(936) 555-5555

“There’s my cell phone number. You’re welcome to contact me at any time and any hour. I’ll always answer if I can.”

“Why are you being so good to me?”

Ian pulled out from the drive without answering right away. The houses passed by outside and the sky dimmed.

“My ancestors believed in strengthening the community and the people who lived in it. I look at you and I see a woman striving to make positive changes in her life. That’s something I respect, Leigh.”