Her knight in shining leathers!

Trinity Walker has learned the hard way to stand on her own two feet for her sick son, Oscar. But, when ex-army surgeon Reid Hamilton walks into her life and offers her a job and a home, she can’t refuse!

He might ruffle her feathers, but Trinity can’t help falling for the knight in motorbike leathers. Reid never expected this little family to bring such sparkle into his cynical life but now he’ll do whatever it takes to give Trinity the love she deserves this Christmas!

“I know you’re finding this all a little too good to be true and you’re probably not used to relying on anyone but sometimes good things do happen to good people, Trinity.

“Maybe it’s time you allowed somebody to help you. Aren’t you tired of constantly worrying about how you’re going to make ends meet?”

Trinity was so tired. The fact Reid knew that made her want to burst into tears. But damned if she was going there again. She hadn’t survived this long by crying at every hurdle life had thrown her.

“Trust me.” He smiled, wiggling his eyebrows dramatically. “I’m a doctor.”

His smile wove its way around her ovaries and squeezed. But he had put her dilemma front and center again. He was a doctor. “What if I say no?”

He gave a half laugh. “It’s a free world, I’m not going to force you to live all safe and sound in this beautiful house, Trinity.” He smiled the kind of smile that told her she’d be nuts to turn this down.

Dear Reader,

This book was born from a couple of different sources. I’d had a plot percolating in my head for a while, about a woman in desperate circumstances who rescues an old man from some thugs and ends up becoming his companion. But it was fuzzy and indistinct. Then I was challenged to write a bearded, tattooed, motorbike-riding doctor and the two ideas started to coalesce. Suddenly these two separate entities became one, and Reid and Trinity’s story bloomed like a hothouse flower.

In many ways I knew Trinity and Oscar, her five-year-old son, intimately. Having worked as a PICU nurse for over twenty years, I’ve looked after many expremature babies with long-term respiratory complications and their parents.

Reid, however, was a different story. Sadly, my experience with lumberjack-looking dudes is limited to research on image sites and Pinterest. But I knew his heart. I knew his mile-wide streak of honour and his innate sense of justice. I knew his deep and abiding love for his grandfather. And I knew he was perfect for Trinity. The kind of guy a woman like her—mistrustful, suspicious, wary—could depend on. The kind of guy who would open up his home to a stranger and not expect anything in return.

I absolutely adored giving Trinity and Reid their HEA.

As we immerse ourselves in the festive season I ask that we all spare a thought for people, like Trinity, doing it tough. And perhaps also consider the many ways we can reach out and make things a little brighter for someone less fortunate.

Wishing you and yours a happy and safe holiday season.

Love,

Amy

A Christmas Miracle

Amy Andrews

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Books by Amy Andrews

Mills & Boon Medical Romance

Waking Up With Dr Off-Limits

Sydney Harbour Hospital: Luca’s Bad Girl

How to Mend a Broken Heart

Sydney Harbour Hospital: Evie’s Bombshell

One Night She Would Never Forget

Gold Coast Angels: How to Resist Temptation

200 Harley Street: The Tortured Hero

It Happened One Night Shift

Swept Away by the Seductive Stranger

Visit the Author Profile page at millsandboon.co.uk for more titles.

For Sam Walmsley from the London HMB office, who wanted to see a tattooed, bearded, motorbike-riding doc. This one’s for you!

Praise for Amy Andrews

“A lovely and sweet romance, but with plenty of heat and some ripping sexual tension.”

—Goodreads on It Happened One Night Shift

“A sensual, sexy, hot and steamy read! I highly recommend this read for lovers of romance.”

—CataRomance on One Night She Would Never Forget

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

Booklist

Dedication

Praise

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

TRINITY WALKER WAS having a bad day. In a life that had been punctuated by bad days, it was a drop in the ocean. Sadly, they were beginning to have an accumulative effect.

She was twenty-four years old but she suddenly felt ancient.

She’d just needed three more days. Come Monday her government payment would be in the bank and Oscar would be walking through the school gates for the first time.

She could finally get some order to their lives.

Regular child-free hours to dedicate to a job that would bring in regular money for things like rent instead of relying on government support and a variety of other dodgy alternatives.

Couch surfing, shonky hostels, single room rentals in share houses and the occasional night—like last night—sleeping rough in her ancient Mazda, was no life.

Not for her or her five-year-old.

Every now and then she’d get lucky and land a job with some form of accommodation attached. A room, sometimes a small flat or bedsit. It never usually lasted though. More often than not it was Oscar’s health issues that ended the job and therefore their housing. Yesterday it had been Terrible Todd.

Her big, ugly, bearded, tattooed boss who drove a motorbike and reeked of cheap cologne and engine grease. Todd had announced that he did, after all, want her to pay for the accommodation.

Just not with money.

He’d felt they could come to an arrangement. She’d walked.

Bastard.

Bloody hell, why even bother with a permanently stressed-out, exhausted single mother who wasn’t even that much to look at? She was five feet four, her long dark brown hair was so fine it hung limply down her back and she was somewhat on the thin side.

And not the sleek, glowing, deliberate thin of a catwalk model. The stringy, wrung-out thin of a woman who’d been stressed and struggling to make ends meet for the last five years. She’d used to be passably pretty back in her size twelve days, but even a fairy godmother would baulk at Trinity’s current state.

Hell, it had been so long since she’d even thought of herself as a sexual being it always surprised her when someone else did.

Someone like Terrible Todd.

And here they were. With nowhere to go and no money to pay for anything much until Monday. Homeless again.

Homeless.

The word cast a sinister shadow as a cold hand crept around her heart. Fear over the welfare of her child, always present, threatened to overwhelm her.

Seriously, when was she going to ever catch a freaking break?

Maybe she could impose on Raylene again for the use of her couch tonight. Just one night. They could go after dinner and be gone by breakfast so Raylene, who was also doing it tough, wouldn’t have to feed them.

‘Look, Mummy! Look at all the ducklings. They’re hungry.’

Trinity broke free from the sticky tendrils of anxiety. She was sitting on a park bench about two metres from Oscar, keeping an eye on him near the pond’s edge, but had mentally tuned out.

‘Yes, darling.’ She smiled.

Her own belly growled in hunger as she also smiled at the old man standing next to her son at the pond’s edge. He’d brought the bread with him about ten minutes ago and Oscar had followed him from the slippery dip like the freaking Pied Piper.

The elderly gentleman had said hello to her and had looked down and smiled at an eager Oscar as he’d asked the man politely if he could watch him feed the ducks.

‘Watch me?’ The old man’s fuzzy eyebrows had drawn together before he’d given a hearty belly laugh. ‘Goodness, young man, you can help me.’

Oscar had beamed and for a moment, Trinity had almost burst into tears. It was utterly ridiculous. She didn’t cry. She was not a crier. Tears didn’t put a roof over her kid’s head or food in his belly. But she was feeling so damn low after her brush with Terrible Todd, such a simple act of human kindness had restored her faith in people.

She thought the elderly gentleman might be about eighty. There was a slight stoop to his shoulders and his clothes hung a little as if he might have lost some weight recently but Trinity could tell he once used to be a large man.

A giant next to Oscar that was for sure.

Her heart filled with love for her little guy. He was everything to her. Her stars and moon. Her reason to keep striving, to wake up every morning and eke out a survival when everything seemed so hopeless. A dear little boy who had changed her life.

Who had saved her from a life going nowhere.

It made her sick thinking about the number of times she’d nearly lost him. Born at twenty-six weeks, with tiny lungs and a major heart condition, he’d had an uphill battle. Six months in the NICU including two major heart operations. Another three months in the children’s hospital until he was finally discharged home on sub-nasal oxygen. Then the next few years being knocked flat by every cold and flu bug going, in and out of ICU.

Trinity had been scared out of her wits for nearly five years.

Although he hadn’t been sick for over six months. She hoped that it was a sign and not just flu season being over. That he was finally growing out of his chronic lung condition as the specialists had predicted, that his lungs were finally growing big enough to cope.

She really hoped so. He’d frightened her out of nine lives already.

A group of three teenage boys who should, no doubt, have been in school, were climbing all over the play equipment behind her. They were far too big for it, laughing too loud, talking too loud.

The bread all gone, Oscar ran back and started chattering at her, his voice high and excited. The old man walked by, nodding his head at her and saying, ‘See you later, alligator,’ to Oscar who laughed as if it were the funniest joke in the world.

‘In a while, crocodile,’ he called out after the man’s disappearing back, hopping from foot to foot.

Trinity smiled, pulling his skinny little body hard against hers. His wispy white-blond hair tickled her face as a lump rose in her throat. Just three more days.

She could do this.

A shout interrupted the hug and they both turned to investigate. The teenagers had bailed up the old man. They were shoving him none too gently from all directions and the old man was not taking it quietly.

‘What are they doing, Mummy?’ Oscar said, anxiety trembling through his voice. She’d heard that anxiety too often during his hospitalisations.

The man stumbled and almost fell and a surge of red-hot fury flashed through Trinity’s veins. How dare they? This was a suburban park in a reasonably well-to-do neighbourhood—it was safe. That was why Trinity had chosen to pull the car up here last night. They were nothing but thugs.

‘Stop it,’ he said, his voice strong and angry. ‘You have no right to do this!’

‘We can do whatever we want, old man.’

Trinity’s heart hammered as rage took hold. Yes, these guys and the Todds of the world always thought they could do whatever they wanted.

She looked around—there was no one else in the park. She was it. Her pulse skyrocketing, she set Oscar down on the bench beside her. ‘Darling, I want you to stay here and don’t move, do you hear me? Stay very still.’

His little fingers clutched her forearm. ‘Like when they give me the drips, Mummy?’

Trinity hated that so much of her son’s young life had involved needles and doctors and hospitals and pain.

It fuelled her anger.

‘Yes.’ She kissed his forehead. ‘Exactly like that. Mummy will be back in a minute.’

She rose then, covering the distance quickly. ‘Oi!’ she yelled. ‘Stop that right now.’

The three teens were clearly startled enough to obey as she stormed up to them. There was thunder in her veins and lightning in her eyes. She was furious but there was a clarity to her anger as skills from a distant time in her life surfaced again.

These guys had chosen the wrong person to mess with today.

The guys laughed when they realised from whom the demand had come. ‘Oh, yeah?’ the beefiest one sneered at her. ‘What are you going to do if we don’t?’

‘I’m going to put you on your ass.’

The old man looked bewildered, his white hair mad-scientist-wild. ‘It’s okay, my dear,’ he said, a gentleman to the core despite his confusion.

There was more hysterical laughter before it cut out and sneering guy locked gazes with her before giving another, very deliberate shove, right in the middle of his victim’s chest.

‘I say!’ he objected, his voice quivering with outrage, causing more laughter from the moron gallery.

And an eruption inside Trinity’s head.

The rage she’d been trying to keep in check exploded in a blinding flash. She grabbed the hand of the beefy guy just as he was about to push again and in one swift, practised, if a little rusty move he was on his back, his arm twisted painfully in her grasp, her foot jammed hard against his throat.

His friends’ eyes widened as he gurgled on the ground, clutching at Trinity’s foot with his spare hand. A second or two passed before either moved, then one of them puffed his chest out and lunged. Trinity was ready for him, landing a solid blow to his solar plexus with one efficient chop, dropping him to the ground.

She cocked an eyebrow at the third guy. ‘You want some?’ she demanded, her voice icy. ‘Get out of here, now,’ she snapped, giving an extra little twist to the guy’s arm before removing her foot from his throat. She pulled her phone out of her pocket. ‘I’m calling the cops.’

The three guys didn’t wait around; they scarpered.

It was only then Trinity realised how fast her heart was beating. Automatically she turned back to Oscar, who was watching her with an owl-like expression, his big eyes huge and unblinking.

She rushed to him, her hands shaking as she scooped him up. ‘Mummy, you were like a superhero,’ he whispered, his voice reverent.

Trinity laughed. A kid who spent three quarters of his life in hospital had seen a lot of cartoons and the superhero ones were his favourite.

‘C’mon,’ she said, ‘let’s go and check on your friend.’

She turned around to find he’d walked away and was almost at the road near where she’d parked her car. He walked hesitantly though, looking around.

She put Oscar down and they half walked, half jogged to catch up. ‘Excuse me,’ Trinity called. He didn’t answer. ‘Excuse me, mister?’

The old man turned around, his face blank until he saw Oscar. ‘Are you okay?’

‘What?’ he asked, ruffling Oscar’s hair. ‘Oh, yes, thank you, dear. I just...’ He looked around him as if he didn’t know where he was. ‘I’m not sure why I’m here. Do you know where I am?’

A spike of concern knitted Trinity’s brows together. Had the incident with the teenage boys traumatised him? They hadn’t physically hurt him but she couldn’t blame him for being shook up.

‘It’s Monno Park,’ she said, laying a gentle hand on his arm. ‘You came to feed the ducks.’

The man stared at the pond for long moments. ‘Oh. Did I?’

‘Do you live around here?’

The man glanced at the park around him and the houses on the street opposite. ‘I...think so,’ he said, his big hairy eyebrows beetling together.

Trinity was really worried now. Maybe this wasn’t a reaction to his confrontation with the thugs; maybe he wasn’t of sound mind to begin with? Maybe he had dementia? Had he wandered or...escaped from somewhere?

‘Is there someone I can ring for you?’

‘Oh, yes.’ His face brightened. ‘My grandson, Reid Hamilton.’

‘Okay.’ She nodded encouragingly. ‘Do you know his number?’

His expression blanked out again. ‘He works at Allura. The veterans’ hospital.’ He stood taller. ‘He’s a doctor.’

‘Right, then.’ She smiled. Not even dementia, it seemed, diminished a grandparent’s pride. She felt a momentary spike of envy at that. ‘I’ll look it up.’

Trinity wasn’t at all confident as she rang the hospital and asked for Reid Hamilton. If the man had some kind of dementia, who knew if the information was correct? She might need to ring the police, after all.

The phone picked up and a male voice enquired who was calling, then informed her Dr Hamilton was with a patient. Trinity was relieved that she was on the right track. ‘It’s about his grandfather,’ she said. ‘I’ve found him wandering in a park. I’m sure he’ll want to know.’

‘One moment.’

Trinity smiled at the man, who was watching her intently, rubbing his creased forehead as if it would help clarify things for him.

‘Hello? Who’s this?’

Trinity blinked at the brisk voice. There was an authority to it she doubted few messed with. But she was over boorish men. ‘Is this Reid?’

‘Yes.’ The impatience in his voice could have cut diamonds.

‘My name’s Trinity. I think I’ve found your grandfather wandering around in Monno Park. He seems a little...’ she dropped her voice, not wanting to hurt the man’s feelings ‘...confused.’

‘Goddamn it,’ the man cursed, low and growly. ‘I’ll be there in fifteen.’ And the phone cut out in her ear.

* * *

The low rumble of a motorbike engine always put an itch up Trinity’s spine and today was no different as, fifteen minutes later exactly, a big black bike pulled up at the kerb not far from where she, Oscar and Edward—he’d asked her to call him Eddie—were standing.

‘Ah, here he is,’ Eddie announced with palpable relief and obvious pleasure.

Trinity watched as the guy on the bike, dressed in top-to-toe black leather, dismounted with a long-legged ease that spoke of many hours in the seat. His helmet was a sleek black dome—gleaming and aerodynamic.

A little hand tugged at her pants and Trinity glanced down at her son, who was even more bug-eyed than he had been witnessing her drop two beefy teenagers to the ground.

‘Mummy,’ he whispered. ‘It’s the black Power Ranger.’

Trinity almost laughed—he did look very Power Ranger-esque in his boots, leathers, gloves and helmet. But then he took the gloves and helmet off, unzipped his jacket and completely destroyed that theory.

Reid Hamilton was more lumberjack than superhero. He certainly looked like no doctor she’d ever met and she’d met many. He had endless blue eyes, a wild mane of dirty-blond hair, pushed back off his forehead, and a full, thick beard that was neatly trimmed rather than long and scruffy. He was big and rangy like his grandfather and she could just make out tattoos on the backs of his hands.

‘Hey, Pops,’ he said, smiling at his grandfather as he strode towards them. When he drew level he enveloped Eddie in a big bear hug, holding him close for long moments before clapping him on the back a couple of times in a very manly demonstration of his affection.

He pulled back and flicked a glance at Trinity. ‘Ma’am,’ he said.

Trinity, who despised everything to do with beards, tats and bikes and hadn’t had an orgasm in five years, almost came on the spot.

CHAPTER TWO

THE NAUSEATING SLICK of adrenaline that had been threatening Reid on his ride from the hospital dissipated instantly at the sight of his grandfather. Pops looked pleased to see him and there was strength in the old man’s arms as he returned the hug. He seemed to be in good shape.

But clearly Reid was going to have to get someone in to care for him in the mornings while he worked now he was becoming more mobile after his fractured neck of femur. Or at least keep an eye on him. This was the third time he’d wandered. Reid had figured with the cricket on the television nothing short of a bomb would shift his grandfather from the living room.

Obviously he’d been wrong.

‘Thank you so much for ringing,’ he said to the woman who stood staring at him with a mix of unease and something akin to distaste on her face.

He was used to the look. A lot of people didn’t trust dudes who rode bikes and had tats. And, God knew, some of them had reason. It didn’t usually bother him.

For some reason, with her, it did.

She was probably a foot shorter than his six-foot-four frame and holding on tight to a kid’s hand. The boy was skinny with hair as white and feathery as Pops’. He craned his neck, staring up at Reid all goggle-eyed.

‘No problem,’ she said. Her voice was cool, her expression tight, but, even so, two full, sensuous lips drew his gaze. There was an intriguing set to her jaw. Something told him this chick had gumption. ‘I’m just glad it all ended well. I was worried.’

‘You were?’

She started as if she’d said too much but she recovered quickly. ‘Yes.’ It was prickly and defensive.

‘Are you a Power Ranger, mister?’

He dragged his attention from the woman to the child. His voice was small but it rang clear, full of awe. Reid laughed.

‘Nope, sorry, little dude. But they are my favourites.’ He presented his fist to the kid, who bumped it enthusiastically with his own pale, puny one.

‘Mummy fought off the men who were being mean to Eddie like a Power Ranger,’ the kid said conversationally.

The words were like a punch to Reid’s abdominals. He glanced sharply at the woman who until a minute ago had been a complete stranger.

‘Shh, Oscar,’ she dismissed, shaking her head at her son, her cheeks flushed.

Instincts that had kept him alert and alive in the Middle East on two tours of duty went into overdrive. His scalp pricked. ‘What happened?’

‘It was nothing,’ she insisted, her gaze darting to the nearby car.

Reid glanced at his grandfather, who was smiling blankly. Clearly he’d forgotten the events already.

‘There were three of them and they were all pushing Eddie and Mummy threw one on the ground—’

The kid let go of his mother’s hand to demonstrate, making a pshwoar noise as he lunged with his legs, dropping an imaginary person in front of him.

‘And then she karate-chopped another one.’ The kid sliced his hand through the air with a hai ya! ‘Then she told them to leave and they ran away.’

Reid blinked at the revelations. He believed them. Not because the kid was so convincing but because the woman wasn’t quite meeting his eye. ‘Really?’ he mused, lifting an eyebrow in her direction.

‘They were just teenagers. Anyone would have done the same.’

Sadly, Reid knew that wasn’t true. Over a decade in the military had taught him that most people did nothing. But not this woman. This woman had taken on three people—guys—in defence of his grandfather. He took a moment to look a little closer at his grandfather’s guardian ninja.

She wasn’t exactly big and strong. There were fine lines around her eyes and on her forehead and he thought she might be about thirty. She didn’t look tough, especially not with a mouth that could have been perfectly at home on a catwalk model.

She looked...tired.

But he’d definitely picked up on an inner resilience. The kind that people in war zones displayed. And he knew enough about the world to know that war zones came in many guises.

What kind of war zone had made her so tough? Crappy childhood? Dangerous relationship? He slid his gaze to her left hand. No ring. Not even a white line or indentation where one might have been.

Not that lack of tan line meant anything necessarily.

But he had a feeling in his gut about her. Something told him her resilience had come from bitter experience. And Reid always went with his gut.

‘Reid,’ he said, reaching out his hand.

She eyed it warily before slipping her hand into his. ‘Trinity.’ She shook briefly—firm and sure—before quickly withdrawing.

‘And you’re Oscar, right?’ Reid said, turning his attention to the kid.

Oscar nodded and held out his hand for a shake. Reid smiled but obliged, shaking the kid’s hand. Also firm and sure considering he looked as if a puff of wind would blow him over.

He glanced at the woman. ‘Well, Trinity, it seems I am in your debt.’

Her eyes, tawny brown with flecks of amber, widened as she drew Oscar closer. Most women he knew would have flirted with him over that but she looked as if she wanted to bolt.

‘No, of course not,’ she dismissed, her gaze darting towards the car again. ‘It’s fine.’

Reid frowned. ‘Be that as it may, how about I take you guys out to lunch as a thank you?’ He checked his watch. ‘What d’you reckon, Pops? You hungry?’

‘I could eat a bear,’ he said. He made claws with his hands and gave a little roar for Oscar’s benefit. Oscar giggled.

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘Really. I don’t need to be thanked. C’mon, Oscar.’ She reached for his hand again. ‘Say goodbye to Eddie.’

‘Oh, but I want to go with Eddie and eat a bear.’

The kid looked as if he could do with a bear-sized meal. So did she. ‘Sorry, we really must be going. We have plenty to do today.’

Oscar’s eyebrows practically hit his hairline; he was clearly surprised at the announcement of such a full day. Reid suspected that was because there wasn’t one. But the kid didn’t push, just sighed and shuffled over to Pops.

‘See ya later, alligator,’ he said, his voice chirpy despite the resigned slump to his shoulders.

Pops stuck out his hand and they shook. ‘In a while, crocodile.’

She said a quick goodbye too, ignoring Reid as she bundled her son into his safety seat in the back of the car. It was possibly the oldest car Reid had seen in a long time—about thirty years if his guess was right. Back in the days when cars were heavy and solid and not made to crumple. The paint job was faded and peeling around the edges and there were several small dings in the panelling where rust had invaded like cancer.

He’d noticed it parked here yesterday afternoon as he and Pops had gone for some fish and chips at Bondi. It had still been here on their way back last night. And as he’d left this morning.

It was rare to see bomby old cars in this street. Reid doubted there was a car in the entire neighbourhood that was more than three years old. He glanced inside as Trinity buckled Oscar in. The car was bulging with black garbage bags. On the back seat, in the foot wells and along the back dash. It was a similar situation in the front, the passenger seat and foot well crammed with plastic bags.

It looked as if everything they owned was in the car.

His scalp prickled some more. He was starting to get a very bad feeling about Trinity’s situation.

She backed out of the car and shut Oscar’s door. ‘Goodbye,’ she said, the cheerfulness forced as she smiled at Pops and flashed him a quick glance of acknowledgement before sliding into the driver’s seat and pulling the door closed. Her seat belt was on quicker than he could blink.

Reid almost laughed out loud. This was a first. Women didn’t usually object to spending time in his company. Not even the tats turned them off. In fact, these days, that usually drew them like a magnet.

But this chick couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

Before she had a chance to escape, he knocked on her window. She shot him an impatient look but rolled the window down. ‘If there’s ever anything I can do for you.’ He handed over his card. ‘Please don’t hesitate.’

She took it to be polite but Reid had no doubt she’d toss it the first chance she got. He’d known her for fifteen minutes but he already knew that. She reminded him of some of the village women he’d met in Afghanistan. All he’d been able to see of them were their eyes but they’d told him plenty about their relief and resentment.

‘Thank you,’ she said and rolled the window up.

She jammed the key in and turned it. The engine didn’t roar to life. In fact the only sound coming from the front of the car was a click. Her knuckles whitened around the steering wheel as she turned the key again. And again. And again.

Click. Click. Click.

She undid her belt and Reid took a step back as she opened the door. ‘It does this sometimes,’ she said, her face tight as she reached down and pulled a lever before exiting the car. ‘It’s a battery thing.’

It sounded like a starter motor to Reid. He’d tinkered with enough engines in his life—cars, motorbikes and military vehicles—to know the sound of a dead one. Although if the battery connection was dodgy then that was possible too.

She walked to the bonnet and slid her fingers under the lip, lifting the heavy metal lid. Her biceps tensed beneath the weight of it as she secured it in place. Reid joined her. The engine looked as old as the exterior. None of the clean, sleek functionality of a modern engine. Just a greasy, blackened chunk of metal with years of built-up grime and neglect.

His arm brushed hers as he peered into the mess. He didn’t miss her sideways step as she tightened all the battery terminals.

‘That should do it,’ she announced as she unlatched the bonnet and clicked it shut, giving him a wide berth as she all but sprinted into the car.

Reid stood on the footpath next to his grandfather as she tried again.

Click.

Click. Click. Click.

‘Sounds like the starter motor,’ Pops said.

Reid smiled to himself. His grandfather was getting more and more forgetful but, a car enthusiast from way back, those memories were still fresh and vivid. ‘Yes.’

He strode over to the car. Trinity, gripping the wheel, appeared to be praying for it to work. He knocked on the window. It was a few seconds before she acknowledged him with a straight-out glare. But she rolled the window down anyway.

‘Sounds like the starter motor.’

She blew out her breath, staring at the bonnet through the windscreen. ‘The starter motor.’ The lines on her forehead furrowed a little deeper.

Reid crouched by the car door, searching for the right thing to say. A wild animal was always at its most dangerous when it was cornered. And that was how Trinity seemed at the moment—wild.

‘I’ve got a mate who’s a mechanic. He’ll fix it pronto.’

She seemed to contemplate that for a few seconds. ‘Do you know how much it would cost?’

Reid shrugged. ‘A few hundred dollars.’

She looked away but not before he saw the quick flash of dismay in her gaze. Her knuckles went so white around the wheel he was worried they were going to burst through her skin. He knew in that moment Trinity was just barely keeping her shit together.

‘I can pay for it.’

‘No.’ She shook her head vehemently.

Reid put his hands up in a placating manner. ‘Just hear me out. I said that I owed you and I meant it. Let me do this for you. As a thank you. I can arrange it right away and give you a lift home.’ He flicked a glance to Oscar sitting quietly in the back seat as if he was used to such breakdowns. ‘What do you reckon, little dude?’

‘We don’t have a home.’

Reid blinked at the matter-of-fact revelation as Trinity admonished her son with a quick, ‘Oscar!’

He glanced at the interior of the car, packed to the rafters with bulging black garbage bags. He’d suspected as much...

‘Ignore him,’ she said, her laughter so brittle he was surprised it didn’t shatter into pieces around her. ‘Kids say the damnedest things.’ Her gaze was overly bright, the smile plastered to her face so big it looked painful.

Reid didn’t know why fate had landed Trinity and her son in his lap today. But he was standing at a crossroads. He could take her assurances at face value and walk away. Or he could step in. As she’d done for Pops earlier.

Reid was a big believer in fate. His faith in any kind of God had been destroyed a long time ago but he’d seen too many incidences of people being in the right or wrong places at the right or wrong time to dismiss the mystical forces of predetermination. Trinity and Oscar had crossed his path for a reason and if he could help them in some way, he would.

Part of his job was advocating for homeless veterans—why wouldn’t he afford these two the same courtesy?

‘I’m going to call my mechanic friend. He’s going to come and pick your car up. Then you and Oscar are going to come to my house where we can talk a bit more.’

‘Oh, no, we’re not,’ she said, the plastered smile disappearing, a determined jut to her chin.

‘Trinity...’ He didn’t know why she was looking a gift horse in the mouth. He supposed a woman in her situation was wary about who to trust. ‘You can trust me. I live just down the road. In this street. The big white house that you can just see from here.’ He pointed at it and she glanced in its direction. ‘It’s my grandfather’s house, I live with him. Don’t I, Pops?’

Eddie nodded. ‘He’s a good ’un. Looks after his old grandad, real fine.’

She glanced from Reid to Eddie and back to Reid. He changed tack. ‘Look...to be honest, you’d be doing me a favour. I have to go back to work for two more hours and I won’t be able to organise someone to be with Pops at such short notice. I know you’ve already gone above and beyond and I know I don’t have any right to ask but if you and Oscar could hang with him until I get back it would be a load off my mind.’

She glanced at Eddie and her face softened a little, her chin lost its defiant jut. Bingo.

‘He’s completely independent,’ Reid said, pressing his advantage, although the thought that the dementia might progress until that was no longer true churned in his gut. ‘You don’t need to do anything with him. He just loves company.’ He flicked his gaze to Oscar, smiling at him. ‘What you say, little dude? Want to come back to my house and hang out with Eddie for a bit? We have a cat.’

‘Oh, yes.’ Oscar clapped, bouncing in his chair. ‘Mummy, can we, please? Please? Pleeease?’

She shot him a withering look. ‘Are you kidding me?’ she murmured, her incredulous gaze calling him out on his blatant manipulation.

Yeah...that had been a bit of a low move. Not quite like offering candy to a baby but not far off. ‘Look. The car will probably be fixed by the time I get back from work and you can be on your way.’

Suddenly her shoulders slumped and he knew he’d won. It didn’t give him much pleasure, manipulating a woman who probably had few choices in life anyway. But he really wanted to help her if he could and he needed a way in.

She turned her head to face Oscar. ‘Of course, darling,’ she said. Her voice was chirpy and Oscar beamed as if he’d just found a million bucks, but as she turned to face him her eyes shot daggers right through his heart.

If looks could kill, he’d be dead for sure.

CHAPTER THREE

‘DO YOU LIKE CRICKET, young man?’

Oscar’s eyes grew to the size of saucers at the massive wall-mounted television screen. It had obviously been on when Eddie had wandered away from the house.

Cartoons and cricket were Oscar’s two favourite things in the world. Maybe because one of his earliest memories was the captain of the Australian cricket team visiting during one of his many hospitalisations. Oscar had wanted to play cricket ever since.

‘I love cricket,’ he said, voice full of reverence.

‘Well, come on, then,’ Eddie said, pointing to a big, comfy recliner chair. ‘Climb up. There’s still a couple of hours before they break for lunch.’ He eased himself down very gently into a more formal, higher chair.

Back in the familiarity of his surroundings, Eddie seemed perfectly compos mentis. He was pointing to the screen and reciting some stats to Oscar, who was nodding in fascination as if Eddie were some kind of guru.

A big old marmalade cat wandered into the room, tail flicking from side to side. It jumped up on the chair beside Oscar before collapsing regally across his skinny legs.

‘That’s Ginger,’ Eddie said.

Oscar patted the cat as if she were the most precious creature on earth. Ginger, obviously approving, purred like a motor. God. How was she ever going to prise Oscar away from this paradise? Cricket on a big-screen television and a marmalade cat?

She looked around her. It was paradise. She’d grown up with thin fibro walls and then thin air during her two years living rough on the streets. Reid’s house was like a freaking palace by comparison.

She was glad he wasn’t here. That he’d left for work as soon as he’d opened the door for them. She hadn’t been able to breathe properly since she’d clapped eyes on him so it was nice to re-oxygenate her brain.

To be able to think clearly.

The fact that her car was about to be towed and fixed, which would cost money she didn’t have, was uppermost but the surroundings were distracting as well. What would it be like to have grown up in a nice house with grandparents who loved you as much as Eddie clearly loved Reid?

Reid didn’t look as if he came from a well-to-do suburban background. If anything his badass biker/lumberjack look reminded her of a few guys she’d met while she was living rough.

But he was a doctor?

What the hell kind of doctor? She’d dealt with a lot of doctors these last five years—physicians, specialists, surgeons, intensive-care consultants—and by and large they were a conservative lot.

How had the medical establishment taken to Reid?

As much as Trinity was determined to stay put and not give into the urge to explore the house, the need to go to the toilet got the better of her after an hour and she followed Eddie’s directions to the downstairs bathroom.

She passed a huge kitchen and a formal lounge room as well as a bedroom, which looked as if it might be Eddie’s if the handrails she spied were any indication. The bathroom was at the end of the hallway and was bigger and whiter and cleaner than the room that Terrible Todd had demanded sex for.

Hell, if his room had been this big and clean she might just have considered it...

There was a huge shower complete with a rose as big as a dinner plate. It sure beat the crappy showers at the service station she and Oscar had used last night.

A hot wave of longing swept over her and Trinity grabbed the vanity as it threatened to overwhelm. This was too much. Just all too much. She should be grateful to have this opportunity to use these beautiful amenities and take a break from her life for a few hours but the pressure growing in her chest wouldn’t allow it. Things like this didn’t happen to her. She never caught a break.

And that panicked her more than anything.

She used the facilities and fled from the bathroom as quickly as her legs would carry her.

* * *

An hour later the cricket broke for lunch and Eddie said, ‘Who fancies a sandwich?’

‘Oh, I’ll get them,’ Trinity said, jumping to her feet. It was the least she could do. ‘You and Oscar stay here and watch all the analysis.’

Eddie’s kitchen was the kind she’d always fantasised about having. Large and open and airy, full of light from the massive bay window that jutted out from the sink. Pots of herbs sat on the ledge throwing a splash of green into the mix.

A massive central bench with a stone top dominated the space. It was beautifully smooth and Trinity ran the flat of her palm back and forth over it, hypnotised by its cool sensuality. A bowl of red apples decorated one end.

Underfoot, there were large white tiles, which carried through to the splash-back areas, where an occasional coloured tile broke up the uniformity. She could practically see her face in the sleek white overhead cupboards. Stainless-steel trim helped to break up the clinical feel.

All the appliances were stainless steel too and reeked of money and European innovation.

The fridge was a gleaming four-door with an ice and cold water dispenser on the outside and packed on the inside with an array of beautiful food. Trinity’s mouth watered and her stomach growled.

For the third time today she wanted to cry.

This was what Oscar needed. What she couldn’t give. A full fridge. Proper nutrition. She did the best she could with what she had and he’d always had a notoriously bird-like appetite, but maybe he’d be bigger and stronger if she could constantly tempt him with this kind of variety?

Trinity shut her eyes, squeezing back the tears. She would not cry. ‘It’s going to get better,’ she whispered.

Once Oscar started school.

‘Just hold on.’

She opened her eyes, tears now at bay, and grabbed things out of the fridge.

* * *

It was closer to three when Reid made it home and Trinity was as antsy as a cat on a hot tin roof. Oscar had already become firm friends with Eddie and Ginger and she was dreading dragging him away from it to spend another couple of nights in the car.

If it was fixed.

She was going to have to talk to Reid’s friend about some kind of payment plan for the repair. She hoped like hell he was open to it because she needed Monday’s payment to source some accommodation.

Trinity’s pulse spiked as she heard the front door open. She’d dozed off in the recliner with her son but she’d obviously been subconsciously tuned into the sound of a key in a lock. Oscar barely looked up from the screen despite being jostled as she practically levitated out of the chair.

She was fuzzy-headed from her nap. She never napped! She didn’t have the time for such luxuries. Her body, though, was eerily alert as she met him in the hall. On high alert, actually, as his black-leather-clad frame strode towards her and butterflies bloomed in her belly.

The man walked as if he owned the Earth. For a woman who’d spent most of her life trying not to be noticed, it was breathtaking. He was big and raw and...primal and she couldn’t drag her eyes off him.

‘Is it fixed?’ she blurted as he stopped to dump his keys and backpack on the hallstand.

‘And good afternoon to you too,’ he said, a wry smile playing on his mouth.

God, even that was primal. Full with a sensual twist that hinted at long, hot, sweaty nights and tangled sheets.

He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on a wall hook. ‘Pops okay?’

Trinity’s mouth went dry as her gaze took in his chest. Not because of the way his plain black T-shirt stretched across his chest and shoulders or how snug it sat against a flat abdomen. No. Because of the intricate web of ink covering both arms.

Invisible fingers trailed across her belly and the pulse at her temple fibrillated wildly. It wasn’t from fear, although God knew it should be. Or even from the kind of revulsion she’d felt when Terrible Todd had caged her in against the storeroom wall with his tat-covered arms.

It was from...fascination. Between the thick waves of his golden hair pushed back carelessly from his forehead to his beard to the tattoos she just knew didn’t stop at his arms, she couldn’t look away from him.

It had been a long time since she’d felt attracted to a man and even then it hadn’t felt like this. Oscar’s father had been her first and an ill-conceived choice at that. She’d loved him stupidly, blindly—all the way to the streets. But she’d never felt this kind of pull.

This was biology. Chemistry. She knew it in her gut. She knew it a lot lower too...

‘He’s fine. Still watching cricket with Oscar,’ she said, forcing herself to focus on getting out of here, something even more vital now her attraction to Reid was a living, breathing beast. ‘Is it ready?’ she repeated.

‘Not yet.’ He brushed past her, heading for the kitchen. ‘I’m starving, what about you?’ He made a beeline for the fridge.

Trinity ignored the question as her brain grappled with his not yet. Where would they stay the night if they didn’t have the car and just how long would it take to fix? There was no choice now, she was going to have to ring Raylene and see if she could have the couch for the night. Reid had offered to drive them home; maybe he’d drop them at Raylene’s?

‘What do you mean, not yet?’

He dragged the bread and some sandwich fillers out of the fridge and placed them on the bench. He glanced at her, his hands resting flat on the bench top. ‘Gav has to source a starter motor for you from a wrecker’s yard. Believe it or not parts that old are hard to find.’

He said it with a twinkle in his eye and dry humour in his voice but it rankled. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket of her three-quarter-length capris. It was a basic model—no fancy apps or data downloads for frivolous things like Facebook and Instagram—just a standard, cheap, pre-paid package but, like her car, something she couldn’t do without.

Being contactable and able to make phone calls was essential for someone with a high-needs child. ‘If you could give me his number, I’d like to make arrangements about the bill.’

His gaze held hers for long moments before he said, ‘I’ve already covered it.’

Goose bumps pricked at Trinity’s neck as her hackles rose. ‘I said no.’ She kept her voice low but even she was impressed with the degree of menace she managed to inject.

He shrugged. ‘It’s done. Now...’ He turned back to the fridge. ‘Would you like some wine? There’s a nice bottle of Pinot Grigio in here.’

She blinked at his back. Was he freaking kidding?

‘No,’ she said, testily. ‘I don’t want a goddamn glass of wine.’

‘You’re right,’ he said, completely undeterred. ‘I much prefer beer.’ He grabbed two bottles and set them down on the counter with a light tink. He twisted both the tops before she could stop him and sent one sailing in her direction with a deft push.

She wasn’t much of a beer drinker—not at three in the afternoon, that was for sure—but she caught it automatically.

Keeping her temper in check, she tried again. ‘I don’t want you paying my bills.’ He opened his mouth to object but she waved him quiet. ‘I know you feel like you have to thank me somehow but you really don’t. My bills, my responsibility.’

He tipped his head back and took three long swallows of his beer. Her gaze was drawn to the demarcation line between where his beard ended and his throat began. The thick brown and blond bristles of his close-cropped beard hugged the underside of his jaw line before meeting the smooth, bare column of his throat.

Trinity watched it undulate as he swallowed and leaned heavily against the counter as things south of her belly button went a little weak. There was just something so damn masculine about a big, thirsty-looking man drinking beer.

‘Look, Trinity,’ he said as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. ‘Let’s cut to the chase.’ He reached for the loaf of bread and pulled out four slices. ‘I’m paying your bill because frankly I don’t think you have two brass razoos to rub together and, if I’m not very much mistaken, you need that rusty old car asap because you’re homeless.’

He said asap as one word, as she heard American soldiers say it on the television.

‘So,’ he continued, calmly applying butter, ‘how about you—?’

‘I am not homeless,’ Trinity snapped.

He sighed and shook his head as he added sliced ham to the bread. ‘I was in the military for fifteen years, Trinity, and I have a very sensitive bullshit detector which at the moment is flickering like crazy. How about you drop the act?’

It wasn’t said with any kind of threat or malice but it was said with an authority that was plainly not used to being challenged. Her pulse accelerated and, like some errant rookie soldier who’d been caught out saying the wrong thing, she scrambled to qualify her statement. ‘I’m just...between domiciles.’

‘And how often are you...between domiciles?’

‘Only very occasionally.’

She’d realised while he’d been gone that Reid being a doctor could mean trouble for her. That it was mandatory for him to report any suspicion of child abuse or neglect. If it hadn’t been for Eddie and the car, she’d have picked Oscar up and run like the wind.

‘A rare night,’ she clarified. ‘Here and there.’

He smothered the bread in pickles and mayonnaise and slapped the slices together. He ate half of it in two bites, regarding her the entire time. Trinity didn’t like being scrutinised. She’d spent the last five years flying under the radar so Reid’s astute gaze made her squirm. Because of the power he could wield over her if he wanted to but mostly because of what it did to her body.

She felt the heat of it everywhere. The echo of it in every beat of her heart. It made her nervous and breathless.

Good nervous. Good breathless.

Her muscles tensed as he held her to the spot with his eyes. The man had clearly missed his calling. He should have been a cop. If he kept it up she’d probably start admitting to a bunch of unsolved crimes.

Or possibly have an orgasm.

‘You should come and live here.’

CHAPTER FOUR

TRINITY BLINKED. IT WAS all she was capable of. She couldn’t move or think or talk. Had she had a stroke? Or slipped down the rabbit hole to an alternate reality?

Had he drugged her?

‘Wh...what?’

Okay. Good. She could talk...or croak anyway.

‘Look, it’s really simple, Trinity.’ He scoffed the rest of the sandwich and wiped the crumbs off his hands by brushing them down the front of his shirt. Her gaze followed helplessly as the shirt moved interestingly against hidden muscles.

‘You’re homeless and I have a home.’

‘But...’ She shook her head, trying to wrap her head around such an outlandish proposal. ‘You don’t even know me.’

‘No, I don’t. But I do know you came to the aid of an old man today when you could have easily not got involved. And that tells me a lot.’

‘I told you I didn’t want anything for that.’ Stubborn bloody man.

‘I know. Which also tells me a lot. Look—’ He held up his hands as she opened her mouth to protest and Trinity closed it again. ‘I don’t know what your situation is exactly but I do understand homelessness. I work with a lot of veterans who are going through the same thing. I think you’re doing it tough and I’d like to give you a roof over your head while you get back on your feet. There are eight bedrooms in this house. I couldn’t live with myself knowing you’re out there in your car when we have plenty of space here.’

Eight bedrooms? Trinity didn’t think this could get any more fantasy-like. She was sure she was going to wake up any minute in her crappy Mazda with her back bitching at her. Things like this just did not happen to her. And she’d learned to be suspicious of good fortune.

If something seemed too good to be true, it usually was too good to be true.

‘Isn’t this Eddie’s home? Should you just be inviting total strangers to come and live in it without talking to him about it first?’

‘Pops will be cool with it, trust me. Just think about it, Trinity. If you won’t do it for yourself, you should do it for Oscar.’

A trickle of fear oozed down her spine. What did that mean? Was it a threat? Would he report her to child services if she left? Every muscle tensed as her instinct to run took over. How dared he spend five minutes in her world and lord it over her about her son.

Despite her anger, his words struck at the very heart of her. He was offering them something she couldn’t. It rankled but could she afford her pride? Pride had walked her out of Todd’s door but her options were even crappier now. At least she had a working car yesterday.

She’d spent the last of their money on brand-new school uniforms and books because she hadn’t wanted Oscar to look like the poor kid on his first day—she’d been there and kids could be cruel. She hadn’t bargained on being turfed out of their accommodation. Or on the car breaking down.

She eyed him as he took another mouthful of his beer. ‘I’m not going to sleep with you.’

She said it as much for herself as for him.

He half choked as he struggled to swallow the beer, coughing and spluttering before placing the bottle on the bench. ‘What?’

‘The last guy who offered me a roof over my head felt that there should be some kind of arrangement attached.’

‘I am not the last guy.’ His voice was low and tight, his knuckles white around the beer bottle. ‘I’m not that kind of guy at all. Frankly I find the idea of bribing a homeless, single mother into my bed completely abhorrent. I’m sorry that there are douchebags like that out there but that is not me.’

His quick, angry admonishment of the Todds of the world was just about the sexiest thing Trinity had ever heard and it did funny things to her pulse.

‘There is absolutely no agenda here. It’s a no-strings-attached deal.’

Trinity couldn’t believe it was that easy. ‘You must want something in return?’

He shrugged, the whiteness of his knuckles dissipating, the tension in his shoulders melting away. ‘I can’t deny having a presence in the house for Pops when I’m not here would be advantageous.’

Trinity frowned. ‘So you want me to look out for him. Or like...be his carer?’ She needed to get a job while Oscar was at school; she wouldn’t have time to babysit. ‘I don’t have any qualifications.’

‘No, I don’t mean anything like that,’ he assured her. ‘Although if you’ve raised a kid then you’re probably more than qualified to deal with a slightly forgetful, sometimes naughty, definitely cheeky eighty-year-old.’

Trinity laughed then stopped, surprised by the sound in the midst of such a serious conversation. Surprised she could even laugh at all in her predicament. But Reid’s description of Eddie was so damn apt.

‘I know you’re finding this all a little too good to be true and you’re probably not used to relying on anyone but sometimes good things do happen to good people, Trinity. Maybe it’s time you allowed somebody to help you. Aren’t you tired of constantly worrying about how you’re going to make ends meet?’

Trinity was so damn tired. The fact he knew that made her want to burst into tears. But damned if she was going there again. She hadn’t survived this long by crying at every hurdle life had thrown her.

‘Trust me.’ He smiled, wiggling his eyebrows dramatically. ‘I’m a doctor.’

His smile wove its way around her ovaries and squeezed. But he had put her dilemma front and centre again. He was a doctor. ‘What if I say no?’

He gave a half-laugh. ‘It’s a free world. I’m not going to force you to live all safe and sound in this beautiful house, Trinity.’ He smiled the kind of smile that told her she’d be nuts to turn this down.

But that wasn’t what she was asking.

‘And there won’t be any...repercussions?’

‘Repercussions?’ He frowned.

She decided to put her worst fear out there. She didn’t want to be looking over her shoulder all the time. Living life looking forward was hard enough. If he was going to dob her in, she’d appreciate a heads-up.

‘You’re a doctor,’ she said, stripping her voice of any emotion that might betray how desperately worried she was. ‘It’s your mandatory duty to report incidences of child abuse and neglect to the relevant authorities.’

The light slowly dawned in his eyes. He shook his head slowly, his gaze seeking hers and holding it again. ‘You don’t need to worry about that. I see no evidence of abuse or neglect.’

Trinity blinked back a spurt of unexpected tears at his quiet conviction. For God’s sake—what the hell was with wanting to cry every ten seconds around the man? ‘I can’t even give him a roof over his head,’ she whispered.

‘You can now.’

Yes. Maybe. Not her roof but a roof nonetheless. If she had the courage to take a risk.

‘Say yes, Trinity. Stay here with me and Pops. For as long as you like. Get back on your feet.’

Her brain turned his proposition over and over. On the surface it was a dream come true. She could have a base. A permanent base she could depend on. A chance to forget about her troubles and worries and save some money. Actually make plans for the future. Get back on her feet as he’d said.

But then there was the attraction she felt for Reid. That could complicate the hell out of things. It could potentially screw everything up. If she let it.

If she indulged it.

Which was stupid and fanciful. Why would someone like Reid be remotely interested in her?

Oscar chose that moment to wander into the kitchen, carrying an uncomplaining Ginger, who almost dwarfed him, the top half of her body clutched to his chest, the bottom half dangling down.

‘Mummy, Ginger purrs so loudly,’ he said, beaming at her.

A huge lump lodged in Trinity’s throat as Oscar sidled up to her. He leaned his skinny frame against her thigh and rubbed his face on top of Ginger’s head.

‘Okay,’ she said quietly, glancing at Reid. Even just saying the word felt good. As if all the weight had magically disappeared from her shoulders. For now anyway. ‘Just for a short while though.’

Christmas was a couple of months away—being in her own place by then seemed like a worthy goal.

He nodded. ‘Stay as long as you need.’

* * *

If Reid thought he was going to see a different side to Trinity once she’d agreed to his offer, he was wrong. She might have said yes but it was probably the most reluctant yes on record and she was clearly still not comfortable with the deal.

At dinner she’d tried to talk to him about making a monetary contribution towards their food and board, which he’d dismissed outright, and then she’d tried to make a bargain with him about taking over the cooking from now on so she was at least doing something to contribute. But Reid had shooed her out of the kitchen.

After years of army rations he enjoyed eating home-made meals and found cooking therapeutic. He’d told her she could sit and watch with a glass of wine if she wanted but she’d declined politely, a pleasant smile fixed to her face.

Which had been pretty much par for the course today. She’d been polite and pleasant all day but there was a coolness to it, a reserve, that kept him at a distance.

As far as he was concerned anyway.

It melted away with Oscar. Hell, even with his grandfather she was more at ease. But with him, she was cool and polite.

Not that it surprised him. He didn’t know how long Trinity had been doing it tough but long enough to have built a shell of wariness around her. And he knew that time was the only antidote. It was obviously going to take her a while to trust him. She needed time to get to know him. To believe that he meant what he said. No funny business. No strings.

I’m not going to sleep with you.

It had been shocking to hear her say it. To realise that a part of her actually believed he had an ulterior motive for inviting her into his home. A sexual one. It’d made him so angry he’d wanted to smash the kitchen bench top in two.

He didn’t know who the guy was that had put the hard word on her but it disgusted Reid. He felt insulted on behalf of his entire gender that there were douchebags like that out in the world harassing vulnerable women.

They gave men a bad name.

The thought that he’d take advantage of her situation was sickening. Sure, Trinity had fight and spunk, two attributes he found sexier than a great rack or an awesome booty. But he could see beyond her prickly, standoffish, tough-as-nails exterior to the frightened, vulnerable woman underneath and all he really wanted to do was protect her.

It was what he’d done most of his life and he couldn’t switch that off because he no longer wore a set of khakis. There’d been so many women and children he hadn’t been able to help, but he could protect Trinity and Oscar.

* * *

He went in search of her after dinner. She’d told him she was going to put Oscar to bed and he’d assumed she’d come back down and sit with him and Pops for a while—if only out of politeness. But it had been over an hour and she still hadn’t showed.

He was worried she was hiding away and he needed her to know that she and Oscar had the entire run of the house. That she didn’t have to sit up in her room like some frightened little mouse. That they had several televisions in the house plus a range of DVDs or she could use his computer.

He stopped at the room where he’d dumped Oscar’s bag earlier this afternoon but it was empty. In fact it didn’t look as if it had been touched. The door was open. There was no rumpled bedspread. No open cupboard doors. No discarded clothes or shoes.

Reid frowned as he moved to the next room along, which he’d given to Trinity because it had an en-suite. If he hadn’t been very much mistaken, she’d blinked back tears when she saw it and it had made him happy to throw some luxury her way.

The door was shut. If a closed door wasn’t a big old ‘keep out’ message nothing was. He hesitated for a moment, prevaricating about whether to knock. The last thing he wanted was to encroach on her privacy. And maybe she was asleep.

At eight o’clock at night...

The strip of light at the bottom of the door told him the light was at least on. So maybe she was lying awake staring at four walls worrying about things she didn’t have to worry about.

Reid gave himself a mental shake. He was dithering. Reid Hamilton did not dither. He was a surgeon, for crying out loud.

Or used to be anyway.

He knocked gently. Low enough to be heard but hopefully not wake her if she was asleep. There was silence for a moment, then a quiet, ‘Come in,’ that sounded wary and tight even through the barrier of the door.

He opened it to find a sleeping Oscar tucked up in bed beside his mother, his fine white-blond hair and the pale wedge of his cheekbone a contrast to the crimson pillowcase. A mangy-looking stuffed rabbit tucked in with him.

A surge of pride filled his chest knowing that the kid would be sleeping safe from now on. ‘Sorry,’ he whispered.

‘It’s okay,’ she said, her voice low, her hand sliding protectively onto her son’s back. ‘He sleeps like a rock.’

Reid envied the kid that. He slept lightly and dreamed too much.

Trinity was chewing on her bottom lip, regarding him with a solemn gaze. Her hair was wet, or rather it had been. It was half dry now with dozens of dark, fluffy, flyaway strands, which made her look about eighteen and not the thirty he’d originally pegged her as.

Just how old was she?

She was wearing some kind of sloppy V-necked T-shirt that dwarfed her shape and fell off her right shoulder. He noted absently there was a hole in her sleeve as his gaze was drawn to the exposed flesh. Her skin was pale, and the hollow between her collarbone and the slope where neck met shoulder was pronounced.

He loved that dip. Hell, he loved all the dips and hollows on a woman’s body.

Suddenly it was gone as she yanked the sleeve up. Reid blinked at the action and the direction of his thoughts. Bloody hell. What was he thinking? He dragged his gaze back to her face but she wasn’t looking at him; her eyes were planted firmly downwards on a book she’d obviously been reading.

Good one, man.

‘I...just came to check everything’s okay.’

‘It is.’ Cool and pleasant replaced by stiff and formal.

He glanced at Oscar again. ‘You know, you guys don’t have to share the same room. There’s enough for one each.’

‘I know. It’s what we’re used to. We don’t mind.’

Reid nodded. He hoped she’d start to feel comfortable enough to open up to him about her past. To let the apron strings out a little on Oscar.

‘Okay. Well... I also wanted you to know that you don’t have to hide away up here. Pops and I usually watch some television together each night. We have three TVs and subscribe to a couple of streaming services so there’s something for everyone. I also have a stack of DVDs if you’d prefer and you’re more than welcome to use the computer if you want to go online for any reason.’

She’d slowly shrunk back into the bed head as he spoke, clearly overwhelmed. Reid rubbed his forehead. ‘What I’m trying to say is that you have the run of the house. Help yourself to whatever you want, whenever you want. Mi casa es su casa. Okay?’

She nodded. ‘Okay.’

But she didn’t look convinced.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘MI CASA ES su casa.’

Trinity turned the expression over and over in her head during the course of the weekend. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the camera crew to pop out from a cupboard and tell her she’d been punked.

Reid’s offer had been outstandingly generous and she understood that he wanted her to feel comfortable in his house, but that was going to take a little while. Who knew the luxuries of a fridge full of food and a pillow top mattress would be so difficult to adjust to?

But the street kid in Trinity was never far away. That person had been baptised in the ill will people wrought, not their generosity. She desperately wanted to be able to take a breath and relax but she didn’t want to get too used to going to sleep with a full belly and waking up without a sore back in case it all came crashing down.

Two months. That was all she needed. Reid was making it possible for them to have a place of their own by Christmas.

But even if it only was for a few days it was worth it for how happy Oscar was. He hadn’t stopped smiling since he’d walked into Reid’s house and Trinity swore he actually had some colour back in his cheeks.

For however long it lasted, she was glad that Oscar could have this bright interlude in his otherwise grey existence. They were used to doing it tough and they would again if this bubble burst tomorrow but, for now, it was a little bit of magic she couldn’t deny him.

Or herself.

Like her and Oscar and Eddie heading over the road to the pond the last two mornings to feed the ducks. The rest of the weekend filled up with the cricket. And, right now, it was a spot of soccer.

The afternoon shadows were growing long across the back yard as she sat on the porch swaying gently in Eddie’s old white wrought-iron love seat, watching him kick a ball to Oscar.

It was surreal and she had to pinch herself.

The old man was good with Oscar. Infinitely patient and encouraging and Trinity had watched Oscar’s confidence in himself grow in just three days. Oscar hadn’t had any male role models and, in Eddie, she couldn’t have picked a better one for her son.

A foot fall behind her raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Quickened her pulse.

Reid.

Living on the streets had heightened Trinity’s senses to danger. But this was different. Her heart didn’t beat faster from fear of being threatened or harmed, it was from...awareness.

A sexual one. A primal one. An acknowledgement deep in her cells of a man.

She hadn’t seen a lot of him over the weekend and it’d lulled her into a false sense of security. He’d worked Saturday morning then spent a couple of hours watching cricket with his grandfather and Oscar before disappearing into the room with the computer that Eddie called the office.

This morning he’d done a bunch of yard work. With his shirt off. His tattoos did indeed extend further than his arms. In fact his entire back was inked from the wings that stretched across his shoulder blades to the barbed wire in the small of his back.

The real estate between the meaty slabs of his pecs and his collarbones was also decorated but the rest of his torso was ink free. Who needed ink when there were flat, bronzed abs on display? And a tantalising trail of hair arrowing south of his belly button?

Trinity had tried very hard not to look at that trail and where it went. She’d mostly succeeded.

After lunch he’d gone next door and done their yard work too, also sans shirt. What the elderly couple who had apparently been Eddie’s neighbours for thirty years thought of Reid’s big, bare-chested, tattoo-riddled frame she had no idea but, according to Eddie, Reid had been helping them out since he’d moved back in.

A frosty bottle appeared in front of her and she started even though her street-kid senses had tracked every millimetre of his progress towards her. ‘Beer?’

Trinity shook her head as Reid—smelling freshly showered, and clad in a T-shirt and denim cut-offs—stepped around her and plonked himself down on the other end of the love seat. She tensed as it rocked and protested under his weight, the steady rhythm disrupted. It didn’t feel right to be sitting so close to him. Sure, a whole other person could fit between them but she was excruciatingly aware of the type of chair they were sitting on.

‘Come on,’ he said, waggling it at her. ‘You don’t want me to drink alone, do you?’

She quirked an eyebrow. ‘That hasn’t stopped you the last couple of nights.’

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