He’d always tried not to be like his father. When in doubt he thought about what Bart would do and did the opposite. Now he realized that the decent thing was to walk away. Only he didn’t want to.
“You’re welcome,” she said. “It’ll be fun to catch up.”
He passed her the bottle of wine he’d brought. A nice California Cabernet the store owner had promised would go with pasta. Their fingers brushed and he felt a jolt of attraction. Swearing silently, he took a deliberate step back. No way. Not with Patience. He refused to screw up one of the few decent memories he had in his life. She was his friend, nothing more.
“There you are. All grown up.”
He shifted toward the voice and saw Ava walk into the room.
She looked the same, he thought, accepting the relief as both truth and a statement that he really had to work on his character. But it was a flaw he was willing to accept. He needed Ava to be okay, not just for herself, but for him, as well. To keep his connection to the past.
She was a couple of inches shorter than Patience, with the same brown hair. Hers was in tight curls that brushed her shoulders. She had big brown eyes and an easy smile. When she held out her arms, he moved into them instinctively.
She hugged him close. He’d forgotten what it was like to be hugged by Ava. To be engulfed in a circle of acceptance and affection. She held on as if she would never let go, as if she would always be there. She hugged like a mom who genuinely loved all kids and wanted you to know. When he was a kid, Ava had been something of a revelation. The marshals had done their best to give him a stable home, but they’d been employees on the clock. Ava had been his best friend’s mom. She’d made him cookies and talked to him about going to college. Just as if he was a regular kid.
“I was nervous about seeing you,” he admitted, speaking softly so only she could hear.
She squeezed tighter, then released him. “I have good days and bad days.” She tilted her head.
He followed her gaze and saw the wheelchair folded up in the corner of what was clearly her home office.
“This is a very good day,” she told him, still holding his gaze. “We were so worried about you.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I would have told you if I could have.”
“You came back. That’s what matters.” She turned to her granddaughter. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”
Lillie danced in place. “Yes. Very. I’m starving.”
Ava held her hand out to the girl. “Then let’s get the salads on the table. Patience, why don’t you have Justice open that bottle of wine he brought?”
Patience waited until they’d walked into the kitchen to lean close. “She’s still running the world, as you can see.”
“She’s great and looks terrific. With her disease...” He wasn’t sure what he wanted to ask.
Patience nodded and led him to a hutch in the formal dining room. She pulled open a drawer and removed a wine opener.
“She’s had a couple of bad episodes, but then she went into remission. It came back, but it’s not aggressive right now. Most days she can’t do stairs. Technically she probably could, but it takes so much out of her. The issues have mostly been in her legs, which means she can still work with no problem.”
Ava was a software designer. She’d started back when computers were novelties. Her job allowed her to work from home—a plus considering that her husband had walked out when she’d been diagnosed. When Patience had told him that, he’d realized that a father didn’t have to pull a gun or use his fists to hurt his family. Pain came in all forms.
He went to work on the wine bottle. Patience collected glasses from the hutch.
“She’s the bravest person I know,” she continued. “She’s always so cheerful and caring. I would want to scream at the unfairness of it all, but she never does.” She smiled. “I want to be like my mom when I grow up.”
“She inspires me, too,” he admitted. “When I was in a tough spot, I would think about Ava and remind myself I had it easy.”
Patience blinked several times, as if fighting emotion. “You’re very slick, Mr. Garrett. You could have flattered me with meaningless compliments, but instead you slip right past my defenses by saying that about my mother.”
“I meant it,” he said, looking into her eyes and inhaling the scent of something clean with a hint of flowers. Not perfume, he thought, remembering. Essence of Patience. “I’m not slick. I’m telling the truth. I’ve seen what it takes to be brave, and your mom has it.” He knew the danger of getting close, but couldn’t help reaching out and lightly touching her cheek. “It’s me, Patience. I know it’s been a long time, but no defenses required.”
Although as soon as he said the words, he realized he should have kept his mouth shut. Patience was right to be wary of him.
Something clattered to the floor in the kitchen. Patience turned toward the sound. Justice used the distraction to pick up the wine, thereby putting distance between them.
Fifteen minutes later they were all seated at the table. Lillie had sniffed her mother’s glass of wine and wrinkled her nose, declaring the smell “icky.” The lasagna was sitting on the counter, ready to be served, and they had their salads in front of them.
Patience raised her glass. “Welcome home, Justice,” she said.
“Thank you.”
They all took sips of their drinks. Lillie put her milk down and turned to her grandmother.
“Mr. Garrett is a bodyguard.” She wrinkled her nose. “Like on TV, right?”
Patience had called him Mr. Garrett to make a point. Lillie was doing it because of how she was raised. “If it’s okay with your mom, you can call me Justice.”
Lillie beamed. “Is it, Mom?”
“Sure.”
Lillie sat a little straighter and cleared her throat. “Justice is a bodyguard, Grandma.”
“I heard.” Ava glanced at him. “That sounds dangerous. Is it?”
“Sometimes. Mostly I protect rich people who travel to hazardous places. I make sure they’re safe.”
“What are you doing in Fool’s Gold, then?” Patience asked. “We’re about as far from hazardous as you can get and still stay on the continent. Is it part of your new business?”
He nodded, then glanced at Ava. “I want to open a business with a couple of buddies of mine. We’ll provide training for security firms.”
Ava looked interested. “A bodyguard school?”
“We think of it as more comprehensive than that. We’ll provide instruction on strategy, weapons and other equipment. Up-to-the-minute reports on various conflicts in different parts of the world. In addition, we want to offer corporate retreats. Team building through activities. Obstacles courses and other physical challenges.”
Patience blinked. “Wow. That puts my idea of a coffeehouse to shame. I mean, I got as far as having a book club and maybe an open-mike comedy night, but that’s it.”“My partners and I have been working on the plan for a while. We’ve been waiting to find the right place. Ford suggested Fool’s Gold, so when I came here last year, I checked it out.”
Ava’s surprise was evident in her voice.
“Ford? Ford Hendrix?”
He nodded. “We’ve been friends awhile now. We reconnected in the military. Our third partner is a guy named Angel Whittaker.”
“I’d heard Ford was returning,” Ava said, “but no one knows when. He’s been serving in the military for years.”
“He gets out in the next couple of months. He should be back then.”
Angel didn’t care where they started the business, and once Justice had come back last year, he’d lobbied for Fool’s Gold. He’d thought about looking up Patience then, but he had enough self-control to avoid her. This time, not so much.
“Who’s Ford?” Lillie asked.
“You know the Hendrix triplets and Mrs. Hendrix,” Patience said. “Ford is the youngest brother in the Hendrix family.”
“Oh. He’s old.”
Ava smiled. “He’s in his thirties, Lillie.”
The girl looked confused. “That old?”
“Ah, to be young again.” Ava picked up her fork and speared a piece of lettuce. “So, Justice, tell me what you’ve been doing for the past fifteen years. Did you get married?”
CHAPTER THREE
PATIENCE SILENTLY VOWED she would never complain about her mother again. Not that she did it very much, but sometimes it was difficult sharing a house. Tonight, though, Ava had proved herself to be a master at getting information from anyone at any time.
By the time the dinner plates had been cleared and the dessert served, Justice had spilled nearly all his secrets. He’d spent a decade in the military before going into private-sector security. He had never been married and had no children. He’d come close to getting engaged once, he’d lived all over the world, but didn’t call any place home and had put off finding a house or an apartment in Fool’s Gold, preferring to live in a hotel until the business was up and running.
Patience had simply settled in to listen. Her mother’s gentle grilling had been better than live theater and she’d been able to enjoy both the floor show and the view.
Since their earlier encounter in the salon where she worked, Justice had traded in his suit for jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. She liked the way he’d filled out—all muscles and strength. No doubt a result of excellent physical conditioning. She would suspect that the bodyguard business required that sort of thing.
Watching him talk, she noticed the odd line or two around his eyes and that his expression was more guarded than she remembered. She was also very conscious of the fact that the last man to walk into their house had been a plumber and before that, the guy who had upgraded their cable TV. Ava hadn’t dated much after her husband had left. Patience hadn’t meant to follow in her mother’s footsteps on that front, yet here she was, pushing thirty and chronically single.
Justice was the kind of man to set the most chaste of hearts to fluttering, and Patience had to admit that any chastity on her part had been due to circumstance, not choice. If her handsome, slightly dangerous former childhood crush made a move, she would cheerfully agree. Justice seemed like the type of man to cure nearly any female ill. As long as she was careful to keep things emotionally casual.
She supposed that in today’s modern age, she should be willing to make the first move herself. To self-actualize. But that wasn’t her style. She’d never been especially brave and now, walking Justice out onto the front porch, she didn’t experience any sudden surge in courage.
“Still adore my mother?” she asked as she closed the door behind them. Just in case he had the idea he should kiss her good-night. Which he should. She was doing her best to send that message telepathically. Not that she had any psychic talent.
Justice sat on the porch railing and nodded. “She’s good. I’m going to talk to Ford and Angel about hiring her to teach the interrogation classes.”
Patience smiled. “It’s a gift and she uses it. I think people believe that I was a pretty decent kid naturally, but that’s not true at all. It’s because I knew my mother could make me confess if she suspected I’d done anything wrong.” She leaned against the upright support and smiled. “It helps keep Lillie in line, too.”
Justice grinned. “Lillie’s great. You’re lucky to have her.”
“I agree.”
His smile faded. “Can I ask about her dad?”
“You can, and I’ll even answer.” She shrugged. “Ned and I got married because I got pregnant. I was young and stupid.”
“Lillie’s ten?”
“Uh-huh. I’ll do the math for you. I was nineteen when she was born. Ned was a guy I was dating. I was bored and confused about my life, and one thing led to another. I got pregnant, he did the right thing and we were married. Six months later, he ran off with a fortysomething redhead who had more money than sense. Lillie was three weeks old.”
Justice’s expression hardened. “Does he pay his child support?”
She allowed herself the brief illusion of believing that Justice would rush to take care of Ned if he didn’t. The fantasy was very satisfying.
“He doesn’t have to. He signed away all rights in return for not having to support her financially. I think I got the better deal. He wouldn’t have been consistent, and that would have hurt Lillie.”
“You could have used the money.”
“Maybe, but we get by. I’ll never be able to save enough to open Brew-haha, but I can live with that.”
He straightened. “What?”
She laughed. “Brew-haha. It’s what I would call my coffee place. I’ve actually designed the logo. It’s a coffee cup with little hearts on it. Brew-haha, Ooh, la-la is the part in writing.”
His mouth twitched.
She put her hands on her hips. “Excuse me, but are you making fun of my business?”
“Not me.”
“You think the name is silly.”
“I think it’s perfect.”
“I’m not sure I believe you.” She glared at him. “I’m playing the lottery most weeks, and when I win, you’re going to see just how great the name is.”
“I hope that happens.”
Maybe it was her imagination, but she would swear Justice was moving closer to her. His dark blue gaze locked with hers. The night got quiet and she suddenly found it difficult to breathe.