the guy,” Jenna whispered, tugging on the sleeve of Cal’s leather jacket. “He’s the one who followed me to the grocery store.”
The words had hardly left her mouth when the man gunned the engine and sped away. But not before Cal made eye contact with him.
Oh, hell.
Cal recognized him from the intel surveillance photos.
He cursed, dropped the grocery bag and slipped his hand inside his jacket in case he had to draw his gun. “How long did you say he’s been following you?”
Jenna shook her head and looked to be on the verge of panicking. “I think just today. Why? Do you know him? Is he a friend of yours?”
There was way too much hope in her voice.
“Not a friend,” Cal assured her. “But I know of him.” He left it at that. “Where’s your baby?”
“In the apartment. My landlord’s daughter is watching her. Why?”
Cal didn’t answer that. “Come on. We’ll finish this conversation there.”
And once they had finished the discussion about the paternity of her child, he’d move on to some security measures he wanted her to take. Maybe the Justice Department could even provide her with protection or a safe house. He’d call Hollywood and Director Kowalski and put in a request.
Cal tried to get her moving, but Jenna held her ground. “Tell me—who’s that man?”
Okay, so that wasn’t panic in her eyes. It was determination. She wasn’t about to drop this. Not even for a couple of minutes until they could reach her apartment.
“Anthony Salazar,” Cal let her know. “That’s his real name, anyway. He often uses an alias.”
She stared at him. “He works for Holden Carr?”
“He usually just works for the person who’ll pay him the most.” Cal hadn’t intended to pause, but he had to so he could clear his throat. “He’s a hired assassin, Jenna.”
Jenna was glad the exterior wall of the café was there to support her, or her legs might have given way.
First, there was Cal’s out-of-the-blue visit to deal with.
Then the news that he knew about the lie she’d told.
And now this.
“An assassin?” she repeated.
Somehow she managed to say aloud the two little words that had sent her world spinning out of control—again. She’d had a lot of that lately and was more than ready for it to stop.
Cal cursed under his breath. He picked up the grocery bag he’d dropped and then slipped his arm around her waist.
Jenna thought of her baby. Of Sophie. She couldn’t let that assassin get anywhere near her daughter.
She started to break into a run, but Cal maneuvered her off the sidewalk and behind the café. They walked quickly into the alley that ran the entire length of Main Street. So they’d be out of sight.
“You didn’t know that guy was here?” she asked as they hurried.
“No.”
That meant Cal had come to confront her about naming him as Sophie’s father. That alone was a powerful reason for a visit. She owed him an explanation.
And a Texas-size apology.
But for now, all Jenna wanted to do was get inside her apartment and make sure that hired gun, Anthony Salazar, was nowhere near her baby. And to think he might have been following her on her entire walk to the grocery store. Or even longer. He could have taken out a gun and fired at any time, and there wouldn’t have been a thing she could do to stop it.
He could have hurt Sophie.
Maybe because she was shaking now, Cal tightened his grip around her, pulling her deeper into the warmth of his arm, while increasing the pace until they were jogging.
“I didn’t name you as my baby’s father to hurt your career,” she assured him. “I didn’t think anyone other than Holden would hear what I was saying.”
A deep sound of disapproval rumbled in Cal’s throat. He didn’t offer anything else until they reached the bookstore. Her apartment was at the back and up the flight of stairs on the second floor.
“You have a security system?” he asked as they hurried up the steps.
“Yes.”
She unlocked the door—both locks—tossed the groceries and her purse on the table in the entry and bolted across the room. The sixteen-year-old sitter, Manda, was on the sofa reading a magazine. Jenna raced past her to the bedroom and saw Sophie sleeping in her crib. Exactly where she’d left her just a half hour earlier at the start of her afternoon nap.
“Is something wrong?” Manda asked, standing.
Jenna didn’t answer that. “Did anyone come by or call?”
Manda shook her head, obviously concerned. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Jenna lied. “I just had a bad case of baby separation. I had to get back and make sure Sophie was all right. And she is. She’s sleeping like…well, a baby.”
Still looking concerned, Manda nodded, and her gaze landed on Cal.
“He’s an old friend,” Jenna explained. She purposely didn’t say Cal’s name. Best not to give too much information until she knew what was going on. Besides, she’d already caused Cal enough trouble.
Jenna took the twenty-dollar bill from her pocket and handed it to Manda. “But I was barely here thirty minutes,” the teen protested. “Five bucks an hour, remember?”
“Consider the rest a tip.” Jenna put her hand on Manda’s back to get her moving. She needed some privacy so she could find out what was going on.
“Why didn’t the alarm go off when we came in?” he wanted to know as soon as Manda walked out with her magazine tucked beneath her arm. It wasn’t a question, exactly. More like the start of a cross-examination.
“It’s connected to the bookstore.” She shut the door and locked it. “The owner turns it on when she closes for the evening.”
That didn’t please him. His disapproving gaze fired around the apartment, but it didn’t have to too far. It was one large twenty-by-twenty-five-foot room with an adjoining bath and a tiny nursery. The kitchenette and dining area were on one side, and the living room with its sofa bed was on the other. It wasn’t exactly quaint and cozy with the vaulted, exposed beam ceiling, but it was a far cry from her massive family home near Houston.
“Why this place?”
