to himself to trim back bushes and install motion-sensor lighting to ward off surprise attacks. Since he, PJ and Cara Jo were the only people who should be parking behind the buildings, safety in numbers wasn’t really an option.
At the top of the staircase leading to the pair of apartments he and PJ occupied, Chuck paused and surveyed the hallway. The light overhead gave a dingy glow. He’d clean the globe and change the bulbs.
He paused with his fist hovering over PJ’s door and got a good whiff of his own stench. After mucking horse manure for part of the day, he probably smelled like the stuff.
Chuck turned back toward his apartment when PJ’s door jerked open.
“I knew it.”
Chuck spun to face her.
She had Charlie in her arms and a scowl on her face. “You were following me, weren’t you?”
Chuck couldn’t lie to her. “Yes.”
“I don’t need a keeper, so back off.”
“Are you mad because I followed you or because I saw that you stopped at an attorney’s office?” he threw back at her.
Charlie batted at her mother’s face, blowing bubbles with her spit.
Chuck had a hard time staying mad when the baby drew his attention out of the fight.
“I only made an appointment. I figured we’d have to have some kind of agreement written up over visitation with Charlie.”
“We still need to have that talk.”
PJ sighed. “I know.”
“But let me get a shower first. I smell like hell.”
PJ’s nose twitched, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “You really do.”
Chuck’s heart flipped. He’d missed her smile. “Five minutes.”
“Just knock.”
Chuck hurriedly collected his toiletries and ducked beneath the hot spray, scrubbing away a day of hard work. It had been a long time since he’d worked with horses and barnyards. His muscles were stiff from shoveling. Other than digging foxholes, he hadn’t had to shovel much in the army, and he could tell the muscles had been neglected. And his bum leg ached like hell.
He let the warm water pepper his muscles as he collected his thoughts for the coming confrontation with PJ.
Showered and dressed in clean clothes, he knocked on PJ’s door.
“Just a minute,” she called out.
A moment later, she opened the door, again holding Charlie. “Sorry. We were in the middle of Charlie’s supper.” PJ tugged her T-shirt down over her hip.
It took a moment for Chuck to digest her meaning. When it hit him that she had been breastfeeding Charlie, his face heated.
PJ folded a cloth over his shoulder and held Charlie out. “Here, you can burp her while I fix something to eat.” Once he’d taken the baby, she performed an about-face and hurried toward the kitchenette in the corner. “I hope you like spaghetti. It’s cheap and easy to fix.”
“I didn’t expect you to cook for me.”
She shrugged. “It’s just as easy to cook spaghetti for two as for one person.”
Chuck still held Charlie out at arm’s length. “How do I burp her?”
PJ chuckled. “Lay her over your shoulder and pat her back. She’ll do the rest.”
No sooner had Chuck laid her over his shoulder than Charlie burped.
“See?” PJ turned with a wooden spoon in her hand. “Easy.”
“All I did was put her on my shoulder.”
“Sometimes that’s all it takes.” She waved the spoon. “Pat her back anyway. She probably has another one in there.”
In awe and a little afraid of the tiny bundle of baby, Chuck patted her back gently, afraid he’d break her little body with his big hand.
“Oh, come on, she won’t break. Give her a firm pat.”
Chuck patted her back again, this time a little harder. Nothing happened.
“Don’t stop. She likes it.”
As he patted her back, Chuck paced across the small room and back, sure he was doing it wrong. Finally Charlie burped again and cooed.
The sound made Chuck’s heart skip several beats. “Is that normal?”
“That’s her way of saying thank you. I told you, she likes it.”
Chuck glanced at PJ standing with her back to him. She seemed to be thinner than he remembered. “How was it?”
“What?”
“Your pregnancy, the delivery? I want to know.”
“I did fine. I guess my body is built for bearing children. No health issues and a natural delivery.”
He wanted to know more, but he clamped down on his tongue to keep from asking too many personal questions. “I would have been there...”
“I know you would have. If you could have.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He tipped Charlie into the crook of his arm and stared down into her little face.
“You weren’t here. You wouldn’t have been here even had you known.” Her hand stopped stirring the sauce, and she stood for a long moment, unmoving. “Your focus needed to be on staying alive. What was the point in telling you?”
His anger stirred again. “The point is, I’m Charlie’s father.”
“And if there had been complications, what could you have done from Afghanistan?”
Chuck sighed. “Nothing.”
A long silence stretched between them.
“I won’t try to keep you from seeing Charlie,” PJ said.
Chuck stared up at PJ. She’d lied by omission about Charlie. Would she lie about trying to keep him from seeing his daughter? What about the visit to the attorney? Was she only trying to set an agreement in place, or was she preparing to cut him out of Charlie’s life?
At this point, Hank didn’t want her to know Chuck had been hired as her bodyguard, not as a handyman as he’d told PJ.
PJ glanced at him and sighed. Then she held her hand up, spoon and all. “I swear on my mothers’ graves I won’t keep you from Charlie. There. Are you satisfied?”
Chuck nodded. He liked the strong, determined woman she’d grown into in the year he’d
